Dirty Country Love: A Step-Brother Romance Novella (3 page)

“So then, let’s all take a seat and get down to it,
shall we?” he said.

“Sounds good,” Britney said, seating herself in her
dress.

“What did pa have to say then?” Damien asked, anxious
to get it on with.

“Well,” the lawyer said, slowly seating himself, “your
pa loved you both very much. But then, you don’t need me to
tell you that.” He looked between them with a warm smile. “And
the farm goes back in his family for… generations. And that
was somethin’ he hoped to see continue.”

Britney’s brows knit as she took in the words. Her legs
crossed daintily at the ankle, she begged herself not to glance at
Damien. She knew the scowl that’d be there on his face at the
thought of not sellin’ the place and makin’ some quick
cash.

But she had a little bit more excitement in her, a kind of light
that flickered into existence.

“Continue how?” she asked in her soft voice.

“Well…” he said, clearing his throat and
opening the folder on his desk to peer at the will again. Though it
was clear he didn’t need to. “He has it in his will, that
if either of you has a child and is willing to settle down on the
farm, you get the whole thing. What was most important to him was to
see the family farm benefit the family goin’ ahead.”

Britney frowned. She didn’t even have a boyfriend, let alone
close to settling down. And she knew for a fact that Damien wasn’t
likely to ever settle down. He was the type of man who did what he
wanted, when he wanted. He couldn’t even wait to get out of the
farmhouse when he came of age.

“Neither of us has a kid, that’s for damn sure,”
Damien said gruffly, arms folded over his broad chest. “And I
ain’t even got a woman at the moment, so it isn’t likely
neither.”

“Well,” the lawyer said, drawing out his words so
slowly, “the terms of the will give you each a year to sort it
out. After which time the farm will be split between you and divvied
up, as you initially expected.”

She glanced at Damien from the corner of her eye. A year wasn’t
so long to wait, but it wasn’t so long to plan a family either.
She slumped back in her chair, her arms foldin’ around herself
defensively.

“What the fuck kind of game was he playing with us?”
Damien said, standing up, and from there the lawyer and him hashed it
out.

It wasn’t long before they headed on out, Damien looking
annoyed, to say the last.

“Can you believe that shit, Brit?” he asked, jerking
his thumb back at the place as he strode towards his motorcycle. “Pa
sure as hell knew neither of us had a kid.”

“And he knew neither of us had brought anyone home either,”
she added with a sigh. She was embarrassed that Damien had caused
such a scene, but she understood it. Prolonging it like Mr. Drake did
wasn’t fair.

It woulda been easier just to mourn and be done with it.

“C’mon,” he said, handing me the helmet again
before he swung his leg up over the motorcycle. “I need to blow
off some steam. You in?” he asked, peering back at me over his
shoulder as I strapped on the helmet.

She had no idea how he blew off steam, but she knew it wasn’t
likely that it’d be the same as her. She preferred to just lose
herself in music or in the fresh smell of the country. He tried to
escape the latter and his music wasn’t quite about calmin’
down.

Still, she nodded, if only because she didn’t want to be
alone right then.

“Sure, Damien.”

He took her on down country roads and trails she never knew of,
until at last they had to abandon the motorcycle altogether.

“C’mon,” he said, beckoning her with an
outstretched hand as she took off the helmet.

Her hand in his, able to feel his rough, hard grasp, she followed
after him into the woods, over craggy ground. It was one of the few
areas where it wasn’t flat land or rolling hills, but
eventually she saw the point.

He took her to a secluded spot, where the river that fed the farms
nearby instead formed a secluded little pond, away from all else. A
place she never even knew about it, despite her years spent living
nearby.

“Ain’t been here in years,” he said, stripping
off his leather jacket as the sun reached its peak up over them.

She’d been wrong about him. About the types of things he
might’ve done, the places he could’ve taken her. More
than one bar in town was opened at that hour, and she couldn’t
deny that takin’ her there would’ve surprised her far
less.

She looked along the glittering water, smelled the fresh air, and
it was like all the tension in her shoulders started to slip away.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah it is,” he said simply in his gruff voice,
stripping away his tight white shirt.

She was surprised by it, but there he went, stripping away his
clothes so that his bare, tattooed body was gleaming in the sun. Then
next came his belt on his jeans.

“I used to escape away here after pa would worked me to the
bone all day, wash away the sweat and grime before takin’ off
and headin’ to town for the night,” he explained
casually, tugging his jeans down from his hips, showing his thick,
well-muscled thighs.

Her breathing picked up despite her best efforts to remain calm as
she looked over his body before sheepishly glancing away. They’d
grown up together, and she’d seen him swim before. So why’d
it feel so different?

Her arms hugged around her waist, her white dress clinging to her
form, her lightly tanned shoulders peeking out from her blonde hair.

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, her blue
eyes glued to a tree.

Damien shed his boots and jeans entirely, until he wore nothing
more than his black boxer-briefs. A brief glimpse showing they were
tightly wrapped about his muscled form, though she dared not look
longer.

He strode on down into the water without delay, slipping into it
until it was nearly up to his shoulders.

“Not as big as I remember it,” he said, though he was
bigger than she ever remembered him.

Maybe that was just it. He’d filled out so the pond seemed
smaller.

She held a hand over her eyes to block out the glare of the sun as
it beat down upon her. She had to admit it was warm, and that a nice
dip in the cold water would feel right nice. But she didn’t
trust herself around him. Not with the way her eyes lingered and
wanted for more.

“So,” he said, his deep voice punctuating the silence
of the picturesque scene. “You don’t got yourself a
boyfriend off where you’re workin’ and livin’?”
he asked, dunking his head down beneath the water to give her a
moment to think before he rose back up, splashed water about as he
whipped his head back and stroked a hand over his glistening hair.

She shook her head, moving a bit closer to a large rock on the
bank. She sat atop it, curling her legs up.

“Naw. Most guys your age left for the big city long ago. Not
many stickin’ around anymore.”

He paused and looked at her, running both hands through his hair
to squeeze the water out, but in the process giving her ample view of
those thick, bulging muscles of his biceps.

“Yeah that’s probably true, huh?” he said
thoughtfully. “But you still stuck around in the country. Never
took off to the city like I did. Why’s that, Britney?” he
asked.

“Never cared for the noise,” she said, feeling more at
ease as they spoke. She hadn’t really spoken to him, not
before. Not when they were still livin’ together and he had a
chip on his shoulder.

“I know it’s not glamorous, livin’ simple, but I
like it. All I gotta worry about is goin’ to work, and I like
all the folks there.”

He stepped back further into the pond, floating on the water a
little now that he was deep enough in, his thick arms moving gently
to keep him steady as he watched her.

“Is that what you had in mind then for the long run? Workin’
in town at the diner? Always thought you was a born farm girl,”
he said, no mockery or scorn there. If he looked down on her for it,
he didn’t show it too directly.

“Couldn’t take care of it on my own. It’s a big
job, you know. Lots of heavy liftin’, and never really ends,
you know? I figured there’d be time, if I still wanted to do it
when I was older. Once I found someone, or...” she trailed off.
She hadn’t given it much thought, truly. She simply knew what
felt right.

Damien took the time to dip beneath the water and swim about the
pond for a while, before finally surfacing again and walking up
towards her. His thick shoulders cascading water over his body as he
approached her. Those black boxer-briefs clinging to the outline of
his large package.

“Just playin’ it all by the feeling in your gut, huh?”
he asked, standing close to her, so casually as he poured water off
his body in the sun, standing upon the grassy bank.

There was something about his casual confidence that kept drawin’
her in, beggin’ her to steal a glance at him even though she
shouldn’t. He’d changed so much since they were young,
and he was so much kinder.

“I guess,” she said with a nod.

Was hard to think about whether it was her gut leadin’ the
way when it was his gut — hard and ripped, with a six pack that
was so prominent — that had her full attention.

“I suppose I never told you why I left for the city, huh?”
he said, sittin’ himself back down beside her, leaning on one
hand as he let the sun dry the water off of him slowly.

“Didn’t tell me much of anything,” she agreed,
her face turned to look up at him. Even sat down he had at least a
half foot on her.

“Well, I hoped to find a gal,” he said thoughtfully,
peering off over the water and into the forest. “Find some
excitin’ times, good stories, return home someday with a good
woman on my arm, and settle back down on
my
terms,” he
explained.

That took her by surprise, the idea that he’d want to come
back home eventually. She figured he couldn’t wait to leave and
stay gone.

Her hair wound around her finger as she watched him.

“Did you find what you wanted?”

He chuckled, but only a little.

“Nah, not exactly,” he said, shaking his head. “I
found women there, sure. But none of ‘em were worth holdin’
onto. Good stories? Not really. But as for excitin’ times? Oh
yeah, plenty of those,” he remarked with a wry smile. “Plenty
of excitement. Like I never dreamed of, or had nightmares of before.”

Resting her chin on her knee, she stared at him.

“Like what?” She hadn’t done much of anythin’,
not really, since he left. It was just the plain Jane routine that
she liked, but it didn’t lend much to any decent stories.

Damien looked aside at her, seeming to ponder what he should say.
If anything.

“Lots of violence in the big city. Lots of fightin’.
As many guns as out here, but people are packed tighter, and more
willin’ to use ‘em,” he said, less a story and more
of an explanation. “And if you go there without any cash on
you, you’re in for a rough time fightin’ your way up.
Ain’t the stuff of good stories, like I said.”

A chill of fright went through her, but she’d heard as much.
It was always on the news, this or that happening. People fighting,
getting into trouble and usin’ drugs to numb themselves to the
pain of it all. She felt bad that he’d suffered through that by
himself, but that was his own choice.

“You plannin’ on goin’ back then?”

He ran a hand back through his glossy black hair, combing it with
his fingers as he puffed up his chest with a deep inhale.

“I sure as hell weren’t plannin’ on stayin’
out here with no gal, and all on my lonesome. That ain’t no
fuckin’ life for a man, with or without a farm,” he said,
letting his breath out slowly. “Loneliness is enough to make a
man lose all control. Become a beast.”

She frowned. Even though she knew he didn’t want to stay, it
still hurt her to hear it. He was all she had left of family, of
someone who really knew her inside and out.

“That’s a shame,” she said with a little sigh of
frustration, not like she expected anythin’ different.

They rested a while, basking in the sun. Until, at last, Damien
rose up, his skin toasted. Now dry, he pulled on his clothes and
tugged his jeans back into place.

“I’ll take ya on to the farm now. Unless there’s
somewhere else you want me to take you,” he said, looking to
her curiously. “I plan to stay out at pa’s farm a few
days more, at least. No rush to get back.”

She didn’t want to leave him. Not so soon, not when they
were gettin’ on so much better than they ever had before.

And maybe it was part selfish. Maybe it was spurred on by the fact
that she liked seein’ him, that she was really growin’
fond of their talks and of the way he treated her.

“I suppose I don’t gotta rush back right away. The
owners said to take as much time as I needed. They weren’t
close to Mr. Drake but they knew what he meant to me.”

His strong-jawed face formed a bright smile, and he reached out,
taking her hand and tugged her to her feet.

“Sounds good. Hard worker like you are, I bet you need a
break anyhow,” he said, leadin’ her onto his motorcycle
once more for the ride back.

But all the way back, the roar of the bike vibrating through her
couldn’t quiet the voice in her head that said she should go
back to work. That the way she was starting to feel wasn’t
right.

So why did it feel like truly comin’ home?

Britney was struggling to get down a box of veggies from one of
the upper shelves in the pantry for supper, but seein’ as the
Drake family were all tall as giants, and she was short as a sprout,
it was a real nuisance. She grunted and stretched up on her tippy
toes, and then slipped…

The heavy box shifted and slid, toppling down towards her.

Comin’ in from outside, Damien arrived just in time to see
and rush to help. The towering man dropped the vegetables he carried
and stopped the box just before it fell entirely atop her.