Crash: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance (13 page)

Luke

That afternoon, we were both nervous wrecks. Our parents got home within a few minutes of each other, and were sitting at the kitchen table waiting for us when I took Katherine’s hand in mind, and we made our appearance holding hands. Dad and Lucy exchanged glances and raised eyebrows.

“We have something to tell you,” Katherine said as we took the seats across from them. “We’re in love, and we’re expecting a baby.”

“Blunt,” Dad said. “I like it.”

Lucy stared at me like she was going to kill me for a moment before finally saying, “You do realize we’ve known this for several weeks now, right?”

Say what?

“How?” Katherine asked. “We’ve been trying so hard to hide it!”

“You don’t think I recognize the way you look at each other?” Lucy asked.

“And you don’t think we’ve heard the two of you going at it at night?” Dad said.

My cheeks heated at the thought of them hearing us, and I glanced at Katherine whose cheeks had turned cherry red.

“So… you’re not mad?” I asked.

“Hell no, why would we be?” Dad asked. “You two are legal adults, for God’s sake.”

“And I’m getting a grandchild out of it!” Lucy cried, standing up and walking over to embrace her daughter.

“Thank God!” Katherine sighed happily. “We were afraid you’d disown us or something!”

“She was,” I pointed out. “I just figured you’d chew us out.”

Dad clapped me on the shoulder and said, “We just want you to be happy, son. Just like we are.”

The next few months were spent making arrangements for the baby. Our house was plenty large enough for a baby, but Katherine and I wanted our own place, so we pooled our income and rented a two-bedroom house in Encino, not too far from where Katherine and her mother had lived when we first met. We could always upgrade later.

We completed the nursery just a few days before Katherine went into labor, and got married the next day. She delivered a healthy baby boy, just shy of seven pounds, and we named him Steven Luke.

* * *

Stevie is three years old now, and his baby sister Katie just turned a year old last week. We’re at the family beach house in Malibu, and I’m watching my beautiful wife chasing our son, who’s decided to chase the dog down the beach. She scoops the laughing boy into her arms and nuzzles her nose against his belly, and he launches into a fit of giggles.

God, she’s incredible. Smart, beautiful, talented, kind—the greatest wife and mother I could ever imagine.

She releases our son, who runs toward his grandma and his baby sister, and my wife shields her eyes from the sun took look in my direction. I lean on the rail of the deck and wave at her, and she waves back.

A muscular young surfer is jogging down the beach. He passes by her at first, and his head turns toward her. He slows down and finally stops, turning around and jogging back toward my wife. I can see him saying something to her. She shakes her head and points toward me, and he shrugs and says something else. She shakes her head again, turns away, and he grabs her wrist.

I’m off the porch in a dead run. I reach them, tackling the guy to the ground and wrapping my hand around his neck, squeezing until his eyes bulge and the veins in his temples begin to pulse.

“Luke!” Katherine cries, pulling at my shoulders. “That’s enough! Stop!”

I squeeze harder. This man touched my wife. She tried to turn him away, and he grabbed her. My wife. Mine!

“Stop!” she screams. “You’re going to kill him!”

The faces of our children flash through my eyes. Stevie and Katie need their father. I can’t go to prison. Not for some punk. I ease my grip.

“Let him go, honey,” Katherine says soothingly, her soft hands rubbing my bare shoulders.

I finally let go, and I allow her to pull me off him. He stares at me in disbelief for a moment before scrambling to his feet and running away.

“Stay the fuck away from my wife!” I shout after him.

I turn to her and she’s smiling. She always likes it when I’m jealous. Who could blame me? She’s fucking gorgeous.

She stands on her toes, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a kiss on my cheek, so close to my ear I can feel her breath there and it makes me shiver.

“Fucking punk better run,” I mutter.

“I don’t know why you’re so jealous,” she says. “You know I belong to you completely.”

“You’re damned right you do,” I say. “I just don’t want anybody to take you away from me.”

“Nobody can ever take me away from you,” she whispers in my ear. “Nobody.”

She’s right, because I’d kill anyone who tried.

Sophie Sawyer loves writing erotic romances featuring over-the-top alpha males, innocent, sassy young girls, and lots of sex and breeding!

Please like me on Facebook and visit my website to find out how you can get my books for FREE!

https://www.facebook.com/SophieSawyerBooks

http://www.SophieSawyer.com

Don’t forget to leave a review if you liked this book. I would really appreciate it, and it helps me out more than you know!