Crash: A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance Read online

  I noticed the maître d’ glaring at my jeans down the length of his nose. I cringed and fought the urge to say something. I only had to make it through this one dinner for my father’s sake. The least I could do was refrain from punching the staff.

  He led us to a table in the back of the restaurant, near the kitchen. Katherine and her mother slipped into one side of the booth, and I was just about to do the same when my father placed his hand on my arm.

  “Excuse me, this isn’t the table I had reserved,” Dad said.

  The maître d’, sighed and said, “Sir, your party is not dressed in appropriate attire. For the sake of the other guests, this is the best I can do.”

  “It’s fine,” Katherine’s mother said.

  “No, it’s not, actually,” Dad said, his voice rising in decibel level. “I reserved a table by the fountain, and that’s exactly where we are going to sit.”

  “Sir, please don’t make a scene,” groaned the maître d’. “We don’t allow casual attire at this location, and I’m already sticking my neck out by allowing you to stay at all.”

  “Well, don’t do us any favors,” my father snapped. “Let’s go. We’re going to find a place where the staff is a little more accommodating.”

  “I hear the Circus Burger down the street takes walk-ins,” the maître d’ seethed, turning his nose up with contempt.

  I lunged toward the little toad, but dad grabbed my arm in a vice grip and began to drag me toward the door. Katherine and her mother blanched and then turned pink with embarrassment as they followed us from the restaurant.

  “Can you believe the nerve of that guy?” I muttered when we had reached the sidewalk.

  “Son, just calm down,” Dad said. “We’ll take our business elsewhere.”

  He handed the valet our parking ticket, and we waited for the car to be brought back around. I was furious, and I could see the maître d’ watching us from inside the restaurant as though he were making sure we left the premises.

  Once we were inside the car, Dad began making phone calls. Call after call came back the same. All the decent restaurants in town were booked.

  “Damn, now what?” Dad muttered.

  “I know a place,” Katherine said.

  Great. We’d probably end up in some uppity little coffee shop where the only thing I could get to eat would be a scone or a crumpet or some bullshit like that.

  “I’m game for anything at this point,” Dad shrugged.

  “Turn right at the light. It’s about three miles down on the left,” Katherine said.

  Dad followed her directions and we pulled up outside a non-descript building with a sign that read “El Capitan”. There was no valet, so Dad parked the car under a tree and we all got out and made our way to the front door.

  “Miss Katherine!” called a voice in a thick Latin accent. “So good to see you! You’ve brought guests!”

  A short, balding man with ruddy skin and a thick, black moustache held the door open with a broad smile.

  “Come in, come in!” he said warmly. “Welcome to El Capitan. For the lovely Miss Katherine and her party, the best seat in the house!”

  The man led us through what appeared to be a real dive of a Mexican restaurant. I could smell the bittersweet scent of charred meat and fajita vegetables mingling with the acrid stench of copious amounts of beer and tequila. How the fuck did The Duchess even know about a place like this?

  We were seated at a large, semi-circular booth by the back window, overlooking their spacious courtyard and patio, which was beautifully landscaped with elephant ears, palm trees, and an array of exotic looking flowers. In the center of the courtyard was a fountain much more grand than the one we were supposed to have been seated at back at the uppity little bistro where Dad had made reservations.

  Katherine and her mother slid into the booth first, leaving myself and my father to flank them on either side. Within moments of being seated, we were offered drinks, as well as a huge basket of freshly made chips and four individual bowls of fresh salsa.

  “Where’d you hear about this place, anyway?” I asked Katherine. Not that I really cared, but it had my curiosity piqued.

  “My friends and I come here often,” she said. “Best Mexican food in The Valley.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her. I couldn’t get over the fact that the Queen Bee would deign herself to eat with the common folks. A cursory glance around the room revealed a clientele more likely to dine at McDonald’s on a regular basis than a fine French bistro.

  “Katherine!” squealed a voice. I glanced up in time to see a bubbly Latina approaching the table. “Hey, girl! Where you been lately, chica?”

  “Working,” Katherine responded. “Tons of overtime.”

  Wait, Her Highness had a job? Like… a job-job?

  “I hear you,” the waitress nodded. “So what can I get for you? The usual?”

  “Yes, please,” Katherine said.

  “I’ll have the mango chicken salad,” Katherine’s mother said. “Dressing on the side, please.”

  “Got it,” the waitress said. “For you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the Burrito Loco,” my father said. “With refried beans. And can I get a side of sour cream with that?”

  “Sure thing,” the waitress said. “And you?”

  “Um… I really haven’t had a chance to look at the menu,” I muttered, pulling it open and scanning it quickly with my eyes.

  “Their carnitas are to die for,” Katherine pointed out.

  I shrugged and said, “That’s fine.”

  I closed the menu and the waitress gathered them and took them away.

  “Will you excuse me, I need to use the restroom,” Katherine said.

  I had to slide out of the booth to let her by. I watched her hips sway as she sashayed toward the restrooms. Damn, I had to admit she was sexy in that little white sundress, the way it hugged her perky little tits and almost grazed her knees. It was just my luck that my dad was getting remarried, and the girl who was going to be my stepsister gave me a boner the size of Montana. My father cleared his throat, and it wasn’t until then that I realized I’d never sat back down after she left the table. I eased myself back into the booth.

  “Luke, I apologize if my daughter offended you earlier. I don’t know what came over her. She’s usually very polite.”

  I shrugged and said, “No big deal.”

  “Trust me, Katherine is usually a very sweet girl. She’s just been acting a little out of sorts lately.”

  A very sweet girl? Her? Why did I have a hard time believing that one? Maybe the fact that the little Ice Princess couldn’t even be bothered to say hello to me?

  “Cut her some slack, Luke,” Dad said quietly.

  “Sure, whatever,” I returned.

  I’d be polite to her, but that was it. I couldn’t wait for the afternoon to be over.

  Chapter Three

  Katherine

  I was assaulted before I even made it to the restroom. Claws gripped my arm, and I was shoved against the wall. My heart thudded, and then her eyes caught mine.

  “So? Who is he?” Mariana squealed.

  “Who?” I feigned stupidity.

  “Come on, chica! Tell me, already? New boyfriend?”

  Mariana released my arm, and I rubbed the spot where it still ached from her iron grip.

  “Soon-to-be stepbrother,” I groaned. “And he’s a jerk.”

  “No shit? Your mother’s getting remarried?”

  “Unfortunately,” I moaned. “I can’t believe it.”

  “Me, either! The guy is so hot! You have to invite me over!”

  I felt a twinge of something in my throat. I swallowed hard and turned away from Mariana without another word, pushing open the door of the restroom and retreating inside. She followed.

  “Hey, what’s up with you?”

  “Nothing, Mari.”

  She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and said, “Something’s up. What’s going on? Yo
u don’t like this guy?”

  “I told you, he’s a jerk.”

  “Wait, are we talking about the father or the son?” Mariana asked, her hands on her hips.

  “Both,” I answered. “Wait, no. I can’t really say that about Steve. He’s been decent, I guess. But his son… Luke. God. He’s a real ass.”

  “Too bad,” Mariana said. “But the hottest guys usually are.” She paused for a moment, thoughtful. Then she added, “Say, would you give him my number?”

  I rolled my eyes and entered a stall, locking the door behind me.

  “I gotta get back on the floor, girl,” Mariana called. “Slip him my digits when you get a chance, okay?”

  I heard the restroom door screech as it opened, and then it thudded shut. I leaned against the stall door and groaned. Did she really expect me to give him her phone number? I barely knew the guy. It seemed so tasteless.

  I left the stall and washed my hands. I hadn’t really needed to use the restroom at all. I just needed a few moments to collect my thoughts. Now they seemed more jumbled and disjointed than ever.

  Mariana was right about one thing. Luke was hot. He was gorgeous. Sexy. Masculine. It’s why I couldn’t find my voice when we first met, and why I stood frozen like an idiot instead of shaking his hand.

  But the guy was a total asshole. He’d called me a stuck-up bitch within seconds of meeting me. What kind of person would do such a thing? A bully, that’s what kind. And if there was one thing I couldn’t stand, it was a bully.

  I yanked a couple of paper towels from the dispenser and dried my hands before heading back to the table. Luke stood to let me into the booth, and I slid over toward my mother. Luke sat back down, hovering near the end of the seat as far away from me as he could manage. I sipped my iced tea and stared into the courtyard, watching the palm fronds sway in the breeze.

  “I thought we’d have the reception in Malibu,” my mother said. “What do you think, Katherine?”

  “Hmm?” I muttered.

  “I was asking what you thought about having the wedding reception in Malibu,” my mother repeated.

  “Like, in a hotel?” I asked.

  “No, on the beach,” Mom said.

  “That doesn’t sound very practical, Mom. All that sand, and wind, and insects… wouldn’t you rather have the reception indoors?”

  “Doesn’t it sound romantic to have the reception on the beach?” Mom asked with a wistful sigh. “The waves crashing, and the gulls calling. Pure romance.”

  “I think Katherine’s right, Luce,” Steve said. “Maybe we can have the ceremony on the beach and do the reception indoors.”

  “Oh, but I had ideas for a beach theme for the tables and everything,” Mom pouted.

  “We can still do the beach them at the reception, Mom,” I promised her. “The guests will be much happier if they can sit down at a sand-free table to eat.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Mom sighed resignedly.

  “We’ll figure something out,” I promised her.

  “How about bringing the beach indoors?” Luke interjected.

  “What do you mean?” Mom asked him.

  The food arrived at that exact moment, and Luke attempted to elaborate over the clatter of plates and murmurs of the wait staff as they unloaded trays onto the table.

  “Like you could have bowls of sand with candles and seashells in them as the centerpieces for the tables, and have the sound of ocean waves playing in the background,” he suggested. “Maybe have various ocean scenes playing on a big screen via projector.”

  “That’s a fabulous idea, Luke!” Mom gasped, clapping her hands together. “I love it! Can we do that, Steve?”

  “It sounds like a plan to me,” Steve said.

  “I can’t wait! This reception is going to be amazing!” Mom sighed happily as she began to dig into her salad.

  Luke didn’t look particularly pleased with himself. If he’d been gloating with a smug grin on his face, I don’t think I could have stood it. But he’d turned his attention to his carnitas, and I picked up one of my beef empanadas and took a bite.

  “Shit!” I blurted out as blazing hot beef and cheese squirted down my chin.

  I grabbed a napkin and wiped the burning filling away from my skin, but I could almost hear my flesh sizzling as it began to sting. I snatched up my iced tea and pressed the glass against my lower lip.

  “Are you alright?” Mom asked.

  “I just burned myself,” I said, my voice muffled by the tea glass.

  Then it happened. Luke snorted. Then he snickered. Then he burst into laughter. My mother erupted immediately after, and then Steve began to bellow. With all three of them laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks, I couldn’t help but join in.

  “I’m so glad my pain amuses you all,” I said with feigned irritation.

  “You’re supposed to eat your food, not wear it!” Luke chortled, pointing to some cheese that had dribbled its way down my chin to rest on the snowy white backdrop of my sundress. I dipped my napkin in a glass of water and tried to wipe it away, but I only managed to make the spot larger.

  “It’s ruined!” I wailed, scrubbing harder at the spot. Tears sprang to my eyes.

  “It’s just a dress,” Luke shrugged. “Buy another one. It’s not like you can’t afford it.”

  I was suddenly overwhelmed with fury. I picked up my tea glass and slung it in his direction. The frigid liquid splashed into Luke’s face and dripped onto his lap. He gasped, and sat there frozen with his hands in the air and his mouth agape.

  I scrambled over the table, knocking half its contents onto the floor in the process and stormed from the restaurant. I’d ruined dinner, and I didn’t care! I just wanted away from that asshole as quickly as possible! I hoped I’d never see the jerk again!

  Chapter Four

  Luke

  “Okay, what the hell just happened?” I asked, still motionless with tea running in rivulets down my face.

  Lucy sighed and said, “Her father gave her that dress not long before he died. It’s her favorite.”

  “Damn,” I muttered. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just figured… I mean, dresses aren’t all that expensive, and… Damn.”

  “It’s alright, it’ll blow over,” Lucy said.

  “Of course it will,” Dad said.

  I wasn’t so sure. She might have been a spoiled little princess, but I hadn’t meant to offend her so deeply. I’d only been trying to lighten the mood by joking around with her.

  Part of me wanted to go after her. After all, she was about to be my stepsister, and I didn’t want any tension in the family. We all had to get along, or at least pretend to, right? Wasn’t that what families did? Hell, how was I supposed to know? I’d grown up with a workaholic father and a nearly absent mother. I’d never really had an example of what a family was supposed to be like.

  But no matter how much I tried to convince myself I should go after her and apologize, I couldn’t force myself to do it. Too much pride, I suppose. I just sat there staring at my carnitas as if they were doing a river dance on my plate, complete with knee socks and lederhosen. Wait… Mexican, German… what was I thinking?

  God, that girl had me so flustered. I didn’t know if I’d been shot, fucked, powder-burned, or snake-bit, to borrow a quote from a movie I love.

  I half expected my father to insist I go after her, but he and Lucy both seemed to be concentrating on their food, and if they weren’t going to insist, I was going to sit right there with them and enjoy my food, which, by the way, happened to be not only the best Mexican food in The Valley, but in the whole damned state, as far as I was concerned.

  I chewed on a tortilla that I’d stuffed with the pork. Juice dribbled onto my plate. I licked it off my fingers. I should have been enjoying the hell out of it. Instead, I felt wracked with guilt. How could I sit there enjoying the food she’d chosen for me, in a restaurant she’d picked, when she was probably off bawling her eyes out over her dead fa
ther?

  “Aw, hell” I muttered.

  I flopped my napkin onto the table with a thump and slid off the end of the booth to go find her. I had no idea where she might be, but I had to try. Sure, she was a complete bitch, but she was a human being. She obviously had some kind of real, human feelings given the tears that had filled her eyes before she crawled across the table like a possum at a picnic.