Hard Fought (A Stepbrother Warriors Novel) (10 page)

Chapter Eighteen

"Am I interrupting something?"

I glance toward the door of the gym to see Jack standing by
the shoulder press machine, arms folded across his chest, a smirk on his lips.
I roll my eyes at him, but I feel a blush spread across my cheeks.

"Ten more seconds," I say to Carter, ignoring
Jack, as I press down further on top of him as I stretch his hamstring. He
nods, and after one more deep breath, I slowly lower his leg back to the mat.
"Did you need something?" I ask my older brother sarcastically.

"Jack? Where'd you—" I hear Bree's voice and then
her footsteps along the hallway. "Oh, hi," she says, looking between
me and her brother. "Am I interrupting something?"

I burst out laughing. "Sorry, but Jack just said the
exact same thing. Maybe you two have been spending too much time
together."

"Gross," Bree mumbles.

"Are you guys going to this gala on Saturday?"
Jack asks, sitting on one of the benches. Bree hops onto the mat and crosses
her legs.

"I guess. You?"

"I have a bye week, so I don't really have any excuse.
If we all go, it'll be less boring."

"The Driscoll kids and the Stratton kids, a united
front," I say with a smile.

"Carter, you have to get a tux," Bree says, poking
her older brother with her foot.

"Yeah, as soon as you get a gown," Carter replies
sarcastically.

"I already have one," Bree retorts with a smile.
"And this isn't my first gala."

"You never wear dresses," Carter says, turning
over into a plank. I reach over and adjust his hips slightly.

"Sometimes I do," Bree replies. "You've been
away for a while."

"Why don't we get ready together, Bree?" I
suggest. I've been thinking that I need to expand my friend circle to include
people that don't go to clubs on Wednesday nights, and I like Bree.

"Aw, look at you two, bonding," Jack says.

"Shut up," I tell him playfully.

"First of all, yes, and also, Carter told me you're
going to go back to college?" Bree asks brightly.

I glance at Carter and raise my eyebrows. "Maybe. I
said
maybe
," he says. "Thanks, Bree."

"Sorry! I didn't know it was supposed to be a
secret."

"Well, just keep it under wraps for a little while. I
want to have all my ducks in a row before I tell my dad what I'm
thinking."

"He'll love the idea," Jack assures me.

"Maybe," I reply. Jack has always had an easier
relationship with my dad than I have, so I'm not sure he's seen how
manipulative my dad can be. Jack's always ready to believe the best in him, and
I'm always ready to believe the worst. "Is your boyfriend going to come to
the gala?" I ask Bree to avoid more of a conversation about my father.

"No, he can't. Out of town."

"I want to meet him," Carter says, picking up an
exercise band.

"No, you want to interrogate him," Bree replies
with a smile. "Mom met him, and she liked him."

"Is it serious?" I ask.

"Um...I think so," she says with a blush.

"Ooo," Jack says teasingly. "Sounds like love
to me."

"Is it?" Carter asks, frowning.

"Hey, both of you back off! Let the girl have her
privacy," I intercede, seeing how Bree is squirming.

"Thank you," she says, shooting the men in the
room a withering glance. "I'm glad to see someone has my back."

* * *

"Gorgeous," I say, running my fingers over her
low-cut satin gown. "I can't wear things with this kind of bodice or I
look like I'm in a porno."

"Well, on the upside, you have big boobs," Bree
says with a grin, and I burst out laughing.

"I guess I shouldn't complain," I reply, cupping
my full Cs and admiring them in the mirror.

"This is still really sexy," Bree says, pointing
to the deep purple lace dress hanging in the garment bag on the back of her
bathroom door. I don't disagree with her. It's a column dress with a long slit running
right up the front. The lace extends all the way to the halter neckline, but
it's sheer so you can still see a line of cleavage through it.

"Thanks. It's pretty old, but it still fits. You don't
own very much makeup," I observe, looking at the small bag of makeup on
her sink, compared to the giant bag I brought over from the boat house.

"No, and I don't really know how to put on what I have.
My mom was too busy working to show me when I was younger," she says with
a shrug.

"I learned at boarding school from the other
girls," I tell her, then hold up a black eye pencil. "Want me to give
you a smoky eye?"

"Oh, sure. I've never done that, but I like how it
looks in magazines." She sits on the toilet, and I bend over, carefully
applying a line across her upper lashes, then a thinner one across her lower
lashes.

"Now I'm going to smudge it with the other end, and put
some black eyeshadow over," I tell her, showing her the products I'm
using. "I feel like one of those women at department stores," I say
with a smile. "But if you ever want to use any of my makeup, just go in my
bathroom in the boat house."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I have a ton. OK, look," I say, leaning
back and nodding to the mirror.

"Hey, look at me," she says, turning her face back
and forth. "I mean, thanks."

"It was easy. You're gorgeous," I tell her,
unzipping my garment bag.

"Sometimes I feel pretty," she says thoughtfully.
"Like when I'm with my boyfriend. You know what's funny?" she adds,
turning to me. "You're just the kind of person I always thought would be
good for Carter. More outgoing, fun...someone to draw him out a little."

I try to look nonplussed. "That is funny. Too bad we're
going to be family."

She nods. "Not by blood, though. But you're right, of
course." 

I take my dress from the back of the door and step into her
bedroom to change. In the bathroom, she does the same. I wonder if she meant
anything by her comment about Carter and me, or if she was just thinking out
loud. She does seem to say most of what's on her mind.

Chapter Nineteen

We walk down the stairs together. Our brothers are already
waiting in the foyer. I watch them for a second before they turn around.
They're not talking, but boys are different...that doesn’t necessarily mean
there's tension between them. I hope Jack's not holding any ill will toward
Carter due to the nature of their first meeting. Carter's holding a white hat
under his arm, but I don't realize why until he turns around.

He didn't get a tux like his sister suggested, instead
electing to wear his dress blues. The dark navy fabric stretches proudly across
his broad shoulders, and I spot an array of medals on his chest, though not the
Purple Heart. I don't think it would be possible for a man to look better than
he does right now. I blush as he glances at me, but give them both a friendly
wave to cover it. I hear our parents laughing together from the hallway above
us, and they appear a moment later coming down the steps.

"Well, we all clean up well, I think," Anne says
with a proud smile. I see my father's hand resting comfortably on the small of
her back, and watch his relaxed expression. I think he really does care for
her, in a way I wasn't sure he was capable of.

We walk outside to the waiting Escalade. I see Carter's
mouth twitch as he sees the low cut front, and back, of his little sister's
dress. We end up in the far back seat of the car, and I glance at his thigh as
he drums his fingers against it.

"I'm not saying anything," he mutters to me.

"Yes, you're showing remarkable self-restraint," I
reply with a smile. "Are you off-duty tonight, security-wise?" I ask
as Roger pulls the car out of the driveway.

"I'm never off-duty," he replies grimly.

In about twenty minutes, we pull up at the Tampa Museum of
Art. The modern cube of a building is lit up with bluish lights that reflect
off the water behind it. We exit the car at the red carpet that's lined with
photographers from the local newspaper. Carter hangs awkwardly back as the rest
of us gamely pose for a few photos. Even Bree smiles shyly as the photographers
snap away. The security car that's been following us pulls away with the
Escalade, leaving its three giant passengers to escort us up the steps to the
large, covered terrace.

There's a strong breeze coming off the water, but there are
tall heaters set up along the wall to counteract the chill. Women in glittering
gowns flit from conversation to conversation, as men in tuxes shake hands and
try not to talk business. My father and Anne are quickly surrounded, and I
instinctively reach out for a flute of champagne from a passing tray before I
remember my promise to myself.

"See how good I am?" I ask Carter, who is slinking
behind me at my elbow. He looks like he wants to melt into the floor and
disappear.

"Talk about self-restraint," he says with a wry
smile.

"Oh, thank god!" I hear behind me, and turn to see
Nikki making a beeline for me. She's disregarded the black tie dress code and
is wearing a short dress absolutely drenched in sequins. She gives me a quick kiss
on the cheek before turning to Carter. "My, oh my," she murmurs.
"Don't we look handsome." Carter grunts uncomfortably in reply.

"I didn't know you'd be here!" I say.

"Jonathan dragged me. I thought I was going to faint
from boredom before I saw you. You need a drink?"

"No, thanks."

"I'm on my third. Or somewhere around there. There's a
really beautiful painting in one of the first rooms inside," she confides.
"I think it would look great in our living room."

"It's a museum, not a gallery, Nikki."

"Everything's for sale, for the right price," she
says with a shrug. "I'm going to go find out about the seating
arrangements. I want to make sure we're at the same table."

"OK, but don't switch my—" I begin, but she's
already off. And I know she'll be able to make whatever changes she wants to;
she knows every event planner in town from hosting her own lavish parties.

"Look," Carter says, nodding across the water to
the shadowy turrets of the University of South Florida in the distance.
"Your future school."

"Do you agree with Jack? You think my father will like
the idea?"

"I don't know. He's a hard man to read."

"Well, one thing I think I know for sure. He's crazy
about your mom."

"Yeah? That's his crazy?" he asks, nodding toward
my father's impassive face.

I laugh. "Yup, believe it or not. That expression means
he's head over heels."

"Her too," he says. We watch Anne's face, upturned
toward Ray as he nods in agreement with someone. Nikki hurries back over with a
grin on her face.

"Fixed it! Moved our seats to your table. You won't be
sorry," she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Oh, no. What does that mean?" I ask suspiciously.

"You'll see!" she replies gaily.
"Jonathan!" She hails her husband with a wave and goes scampering
off.

Jack and Bree find us, and we manage to escape much of the
small talk that we usually have to go through at these types of events. Jack is
only asked for a few photo opportunities, as most people here consider
themselves before asking someone for a selfie, even if he is an NFL star.

Eventually, the crowd starts to move inside, stopping to
find their names and table numbers at a banquette by the doors. The atrium is
softly lit, with huge centerpieces filled with orchids towering over every
table. In the middle sits a dance floor, though it's currently occupied by a
string quartet.

"Is there an auction or something?" Carter asks me
quietly as he glances around.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't they always raise money at these things?"

"Yeah, my dad bought the seats. Your donation is paying
for your spot at the table."

"So he paid for all of us..." he concludes with a
frown.

I nod. "It's really just a drop in the bucket for
him."

"Not for me. Everything has strings attached."

I can't disagree with that statement, and it is a relief to
have someone in the family be distrustful of my dad like I am. I can never talk
to Jack about the way I feel, he's too quick to defend him.

As we take our seats, I spot Nikki walking up with her
husband Jonathan and another man. I shake my head at her, realizing immediately
why she wanted to change seats so much. This is a set-up.

"Jonathan, you remember Lex, of course," she says
as they reach us. Jonathan, a good-looking if slightly pudgy older man, and I
kiss on the cheek. "And William, this is my friend Alexa Stratton. Lex,
this is William Easting."

"Lovely to meet you," I tell him, offering him my
hand.

"Likewise," he says, with that glint in his eye
that tells me that he finds me attractive. It's mutual, if completely theoretical.
I can't deny that he's conventionally handsome, with light brown hair and an
easy smile, but I have absolutely no interest in getting involved with him.

"Why don't you sit next to her, and I'll sit
here," Nikki suggests. I have to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at
her naked matchmaking.

"Ray, good to see you again," William says, and
walks over to my father instead of taking his seat. Jonathan follows, and the
three of them talk on the other side of the table.

"Wharton graduate, family money, in energy," Nikki
whispers hurriedly to me as we sit.

"I didn't ask you to fix me up with anyone," I
hiss back.

"You're welcome!" she replies infuriatingly.

Chapter Twenty

The four courses pass quickly. William is a good
conversationalist, and Jack brightens any social gathering just by being his
ridiculous self. Bree has snuck a couple glasses of wine and has a cute flush
to her cheeks, though Carter has been mostly silent. I don't think galas are
his scene. Nikki is having an absolute ball, though I notice Jonathan's hand on
her arm, discouraging her from having a seventh vodka soda.

As the dessert, a delicate raspberry chocolate mousse, is
served, the string quartet vanishes, replaced by a jazz band with at least
fifteen instrumentalists. I take a couple bites, but I'm pretty much stuffed
already. I hand the rest over to Jack, who quickly inhales it. He's always been
a reliable garbage disposal, consuming any food I can't.

I turn my chair to watch the couples, and can't help tapping
my foot to the swing music. "You dance?" William asks.

"A little."

"Where'd you learn?"

I grin. "From a retired dance teacher in Paris.
You?"

"Required class at my boarding school," he
answers, extending his hand to me. I pause, and then put my hand in his. I do
love to dance.

He leads me out into the middle of the floor, and then with
a flick of his wrist, he pulls me into him. He has excellent form, his left arm
strong but relaxed, and his right hand guiding me at the small of my back.

"Where'd you stay while you were in Paris? The Four
Seasons?"

"No," I smile. "My accommodations were a bit
more rustic."

"I'd love to take you there sometime. Maybe in the new
year."

I raise my eyebrows. "That's rather forward of
you."

"I know what I like."

"Well, I'm afraid I'm going to be a little busy with
school."

"School?"

"I never finished college," I admit, blushing a
little. I know he has at least two degrees.

"What's the point?" he asks with a shrug.

"The point?" I repeat, astounded.

"You're a beautiful woman, and a Stratton, I can't
imagine you need to earn your way."

"It's not about needing...it's about
wanting.
"

"I didn't mean to offend. It's just that I've always
looked forward to providing someone like you a life of luxury, like Jonathan
does for Nikki."

"Someone like me? You barely know me."

"Like I said, I know what I like. But I won't press it.
So how's the big deal going?" he asks, gamely changing the subject.

"Big deal?" I ask.

"Burke Shipping's Mexican deal."

"Oh, right," I say with a smile, as though I know
what he's talking about. I don't, but I do want to know more. "My dad's
been telling me about it, but I've just been really distracted," I lie.

"It would make me nervous, but I guess that's why your
father's the best. Nerves of steel."

"Right, that's him. And why exactly would—" I
break off as Carter appears at our elbow.

"Mind if I cut in?" he asks.

"Well—" William begins reluctantly.

"Thanks," Carter interrupts, and holds out his
hand to me. I smile at William and take Carter's hand.

"You sure it won't look weird for us to dance
together?" I murmur to Carter as William walks away, looking a bit peeved.

"Bree made me," he replies.

"She made you?" I glance over at Bree, who is
giving us a big thumbs up from the table.

"She said that guy reminds her of a barracuda and told
me I had to rescue you."

I giggle. "Well, she's not wrong, but I was trying to
find out something he was saying about my dad doing a Burke deal in—wait a
second, you're dancing," I realize, almost tripping over my own feet as I
look down at his.

"Eyes up," Carter says, his lips twitching.
"My mom taught me when I was a kid."

"I see," I say, swallowing hard as our eyes meet.
I pull back a little to leave more space between our bodies, though I can't do
anything about his hand on my back. "And you're OK? You know, being in a crowd
and everything?"

He nods. "It's more spread out here, plus the security
team and I did a background check on everyone in attendance."

"Holy shit. You guys are intense," I murmur. I
glance over as my father leads Anne to a different part of the dance floor.
He's not a great dancer, too stiff, but he's serviceable. "I think he
actually loves her," I comment.

"That surprises you?"

"Well, I don't think he ever really loved my
mother."

"How could you know that?"

"I went to grade school with a couple of the kids of
people he worked with at Burke. They told me how their parents talked about how
my dad married my mom to get ahead at the company. You know, getting in with
the boss's daughter. "

"They were just kids."

"I looked it up when I was older. He rose from a middle
manager to vice president remarkably quickly, and when my mom's father died, he
was named CEO."

"Why not your mom?"

"She was never completely stable, though of course she got
worse after I was born."

"Bree told me how she died. I hope that's
alright." I nod, unable to speak for a moment as a ball of tears rises in
my throat. I know intellectually that my mom's postpartum depression is really
to blame for her suicide, but I'll never be able to feel completely blameless.
After all, it was my birth that triggered her illness. "You look beautiful
tonight."

"You're just saying that," I manage to whisper.

"No. Though I mean it purely factually and
platonically."

"I look factually beautiful?"

"Yes. It is a fact."

"Well, you look factually handsome."

"You don't prefer a tux?" Carter asks, nodding
smugly toward William, who is currently sitting back at our table and talking
to Jack.

"I prefer focusing on school," I reply, stepping
away from him to applaud the band as the song ends. "Thanks for the
dance," I add coolly before walking back to the table. Spending any more
time so close to Carter would be dangerous.