Shipwrecked (Happy Endings Book 2) Read online

  “There was no way I was going to miss all this. This is gorgeous!” Her eyes sparkle as she looks around her.

  “I know right.” I grin back at her. “I love your dress.”

  “Goodwill,” she whispers cupping her hand over my ear so the others at her table won’t hear.

  “It looks amazing with your tan.”

  “Speaking of amazing…” She grins. “Your step-brother is hot, like set me on fire hot.” She makes a mock motion of fanning herself with her hand.

  “Eww, stop it. He’s my brother.”

  “No, he isn’t. He’s your step-brother.” She shakes her head and laughs. “How old is he anyway?”

  “Like thirty or something I don’t know, maybe older. He’s just—I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “You could do me a solid and introduce me,” she teases. At least I hope she is joking.

  “Seriously! You know who you sound like now?”

  She holds her hands up suppressing a smile. “I’m kidding, Rach. I’m kidding.”

  I glare at her and she scowls.

  “I’ll catch up with you in a bit. I gotta go sit with my mom.”

  “Later, Rach. And by the way, he was staring at you through the whole ceremony.”

  My cheeks flame instantly with embarrassment. I shake my head and make my way to the table that has been set up for the wedding party. I can’t wait to eat something.

  I notice the chair next to me is empty and I whisper to my mother, “Where’s Nadine?”

  She makes and exasperated face. Her brows pinching together. “She had to go lie down. She had a headache.”

  “Of course she did,” I mumble but she has already turned her attention back to Nigel.

  My plate is placed before me and my mouth waters at the sight of my steak.

  I start to cut into it when Stacia Grenly come up beside me, her shadow casts over my steak like a shroud and takes some of my appetite. I don’t like her—as in really don’t like her.

  “You look so pretty, Rachel. I haven’t seen you at the country club. We need to get together soon!” She says, and she is way over-the-top enthusiastic. I have no idea what to say in response, and it probably doesn’t matter because she continues to ramble on, saying something about me helping her organize a coat drive in the Fall for the needy.

  I feel like I am in the twilight zone. I nod and agree to who knows what. My eyes keep traveling back to my untouched food. My stomach is practically roaring for a piece of that juicy tender sirloin.

  She finally wanders off and I take a much-anticipated bite, only to have a server sweep my plate away just as I spot Lucas at the bar.

  He looks so beautifully out of place, much like I feel. I don’t know why I care. I shake my head and turn to speak to my mother only to realize she and Nigel are cutting the three-tier red velvet cake. If anyone tries to get between me and my piece of cake, I may tear their head off. I am that hungry. I down my iced tea and attempt to make my way to the bathroom when I am accosted by Hannah Burns, another girl who never wanted to be my friend in high school.

  “I love your dress.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry to cut you off but my bladder is about to burst.”

  “Oh, okay, I just wanted to ask you if you’d like to hangout this week.”

  “Sure, get up with me on later,” I mumble with a fake smile.

  As if. I am so not doing anything with her.

  Before I can get away, Lucas is in my face demanding I dance with him.

  Yikes.

  2

  Lucas

  Looking across the tent, I see her.

  My competition.

  The girl my father plans to groom to take my place if I fail to uphold to his standards. Rachel Berenger. She doesn’t know me, but I know her. When I found out my father was getting married, I did my homework. I’m sure she thought she hit the jackpot when her mother sunk her claws into my old man. I’m not an asshole, per say, but I know Rachel hasn’t had a damn thing in her life and now she has a rich step-daddy to spoil her. She grew up in the shitty apartments on the west side of town.

  Everyone who lives there is on welfare or some type of government assistance. Not everyone has had the privileges I have. I get that and it may make me sound like a conceited dick, but the truth is, everyone in this town wants a piece of us.

  As much as I dislike Rachel and everything she stands for, my eyes can’t seem to look away. Her red braided hair wraps around her head like a damn halo. She looks every bit of an angel with her pale skin against her green dress that hugs her body in places that I shouldn’t be noticing.

  She’s my new stepsister.

  I laugh to myself. I wonder how easy she’d be to corrupt? My father would cut me off if I tried it, so it’s out of the question. But, I can’t say the idea doesn’t hold promise. She’s not that much younger than me...I sip on my champagne, wishing I had a beer. I’m surprised my old man isn’t bitching at me for having a drink. He’s been riding my ass ever since he had to bail me out of the DUI I was almost slapped with last year in London. He sure as shit didn’t spend this much when I got my business degree from Harvard—or even his other weddings.

  No sir, my dad went all out for this shindig. “It’s special,” he said. I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes when he spouted that shit. This is his third wedding. He swears that this time it’s the real deal. But he forgets I know him. I know his habits and men if anything are creatures of habit. But, what do I know? I’m just his screw-up son, dear old Dad would like to forget was ever born—mostly because he hates my mother and I’m a connection to her he can’t get away from. But, that’s a story for another day, I suppose. No chance it reliving the past. I sigh as my father comes over. I can already tell by the look in his eyes that I’ve done something to piss him off.

  “Why don’t you make nice with Rachel, ask her to dance.” By the tone my father is using he isn’t asking me. He’s ordering me. And what choice do I have? I have to secure my rightful spot at the head of the company. I want that. I’ve worked for it, even if my father fails to recognize my accomplishments. I graduated the top of my class in Harvard and I bust my ass daily at the office and all because, once Dad retires, the empire his great great grandfather began, will belong to me. I’ll be damned if it goes to some brat who won the lottery the day our parents met.

  “My pleasure,” I grit between my teeth and sit my champagne on the table.

  Stalking her, I wait for the opportune moment. I wait until she isn’t occupied by some kiss ass from the country club attempting to use her new status to climb the social ladder. I know the type. I’ve been surrounded by them my entire life. Money brings out the worst in people. I’ve learned too many times. People only like you for what you can do for them. Right now, it appears Rachel is drowning, and I get to be her anchor. I can play nice for now, but the minute she thinks of moving in on what’s rightfully mine? I’ll squash her.

  I cross the room, dodging anyone who tries and deter me from my target.

  I see her doe eyes widen as I approach her. She’s got beautiful brown eyes that sparkle and I swear you can see specks in them that remind me of warm glitter. Damn it, this would be easier if she wasn’t so beautiful.

  “Dance with me,” I order, holding my hand out to her.

  “I—I uh don’t dance,” she whispers.

  “You do now.”

  I take her slender fingers and jerk her forward practically dragging her to the dance floor in the center of the adjoining tent with a live band.

  Unchained Melody is being crooned by the lead singer. Rachel is still struggling to escape my grip when I place a hand on her hip. “Look, I don’t like you and I know you don’t like me—”

  “But—”

  “But for tonight, I am willing to forgo that fact to make our parents happy.”

  “I don’t even know you.”

  “Yeah…well don’t get your hopes up. That’s not about to change. You won’t be
around long enough to get to know me. I give our parents three months tops. I know my father. He gets bored easily. By then, your mother will be miserable and begging for a divorce. Trust me.”

  “He loves her.”

  “He’s loved them all,” I snark at her under my breath.

  “I’m not your enemy. You know, I don’t want your father’s money. I told him I didn’t want anything he bought me, but he’s stubborn.” Her bottom lip trembles and I feel like a major dick, but girls are conniving. You can’t trust them. I’ve learned that the hard way. They use their tears to make you pity them and it’s the last emotion my new stepsister will ever evoke in me.

  “What you do or don’t want is irrelevant.” I support her with my arm and dip her, smiling at our parents who have joined us on the dance floor. My father nods his approval and I continue the farce, pretending to be the good son. The new caring stepbrother that I should strive to be.

  Rachel gazes into my eyes and my heart jumps to my throat. She appears so innocent yet there is a hidden desire behind her eyes. Just what that desire is, I don’t know. But I will find out and I will use it against her. I’ll use it to ensure she never tries to cross me.

  I draw her back up and she trembles in my arms. I make her nervous. Good. She should be nervous.

  “You’re welcome by the way.”

  “For what?” Her brownie shaded eyes squint at me in wonder.

  “For rescuing you from that gaggle of girls hoping to use you.”

  “Use me for what?”

  “Whatever they can, Rachel. Rule number one, never take people at face value.”

  “I can handle myself.” Her chin tilts up, defiant, challenging me.

  “I suppose that is why you are being left in my care for the next week while my father whisks your mother away to Paris.” I chuckle as she glares at me.

  Her eyes smolder with anger. Damn. It is all too easy to push her buttons. It practically makes me hard. I can’t think that way though. I shouldn’t be attracted to her. She’s the enemy. I’ve already seen the office that my father is having made for her. Corner office, big window. I started in the fucking mailroom.

  Rachel is pretty, I’ll give her that, but that is all I will ever give her.

  I twirl her around without further conversation. It isn’t long before the fireworks are being set off down at the bay to celebrate the joyous occasion.

  Eye roll.

  I make my way over to the open bar in hopes of something stronger than that damn champagne. I watch Rachel as she says a tearful goodbye to her mother.

  How nice it must be to have a parent who truly cares for you.

  I wouldn’t know.

  My father joins me at the bar.

  “Walter will be here to drive Rachel around. Just make sure she has whatever she needs, and Lucas, I’m warning you—be nice to her. She’s a good kid. We should be back late Sunday evening.”

  Kid.

  I want to shake him. It doesn’t escape my notice that he came to talk to me before leaving, only to check on Rachel.

  “Yes, sir,” I tell him with a salute, and he’s gone, ready to board his private jet for his honeymoon.

  There is no sad goodbye. Not even a, I’ll see you soon, son. I have always been an afterthought for him. I watch as he embraces his newest bride, my new mommy. He does seem to love her, but like I said…he’s loved them all.

  My father doesn’t do monogamy for long. He always moves on to a younger woman who finds him attractive—or his money, whatever works.

  3

  Rachel

  The wedding guests have all departed, now that my mother and Nigel are on their way to the airport. To Paris. I can’t believe he’s taking her to Paris. The city of love. I sigh to myself as I change out of my wedding attire. One day, I’m going to travel. It’s one of the promises I made to myself.

  I grab my comfy clothes, so dang on happy to free myself of those heels I could cry. I put on my leggings and a tank top sans bra. It’s late, but I am still starving. I wonder if there are any leftovers in the kitchen? I really want a piece of that wedding cake. It looked so good and I don’t even want to think about my steak. That one bite was so good it’s torturing me that I didn’t get more. Who did that dude think he was snatching my food away like that? I suppose he didn’t know I was famished, but ugh.

  When I am hungry, I get cranky like that candy bar commercial. I want that cake, but this also means I will have to go down two staircases to find said cake and my feet are killing me. I wonder if Nigel would consider putting in an elevator? I mope around my room and dig out my house shoes mom bought me when we moved in. She said I would be thankful for them because walking on hardwood floors can hurt your feet. And boy do they hurt tonight. Going into my private bathroom I scrub away the thick makeup. I know it made me look kind of pretty, but I much prefer my plain old self. Next, I try to get all the bobby pins from my hair. Once I am finished, I shuffle down the hall, hoping I don’t have a run in with Lucas. Apparently, he’s keeping an eye on me this week. I don’t know why I need a chaperone. I’m twenty not ten, for god sake.

  When I pass by Lucas’s bedroom door, it’s closed and there’s no. light coming out of the crack at the bottom. I pray he’s already asleep. I make my way down the backstairs, also known as the servant’s stairs that come out at the main kitchen on the ground floor. Nigel employs a chef but I’m sure he’s left by now.

  The kitchen reminds me of a great mansion in the Victorian days of England. Like something I would only ever read about, because it’s too extravagant to experience. It’s so large, I can’t begin to describe it. I’m not sure why you would even need a kitchen this big. I mean, there are three ovens. Three! Who in the heck needs three of them? I have heard of having two, but never more than that. I am almost afraid to touch anything down here because it is all so fancy and high tech. I check the counter tops and pantry and finally I open one of the refrigerators and there are no leftovers. I deflate like a balloon. When I close the door I nearly jump out of my skin. I gasp and clutch my chest, because there’s Lucas.

  “You scared me,” I mutter, still trying to recover.

  Lucas is standing inches from me. “Looking for something?” His mouth is tight, but his eyes are vibrant as he stares at me.

  His arms move in my direction.

  He’s holding two carryout boxes.

  I eye him suspiciously. What is he up to? My brow quirks up as he holds them out to me.

  “I donated the leftover food to charity, but I managed to save this for you before they packed it all up,” he explains.

  “Why?” I look at him quizzically, confused at first, but then recall Kellis telling me he kept staring at me. Was he really observing me so intently that he noticed I didn’t eat? He baffles me. Maybe he wants to make amends?

  “Let’s not make a big deal out of this. Enjoy the food.” He sits the containers on the counter and stalks off toward the main hall.

  Part of me is afraid to open the lid. Scared that he gave me something gross, but he is too old for that. At least I hope that he is. Just in case, I sniff the containers. I don’t smell anything rancid. The scent coming from the larger one is amazing. Popping the box open I smile big and wide as my stomach rumbles. Inside is the dinner I missed out on. The steak, a baked potato, broccoli and cheese with a roll on the side. It’s all still warm too. In the smaller one is a large piece of red velvet cake.

  I don’t waste any time, immediately digging into the food. When the flavor of the meat hits my tongue, I groan in pure gluttonous pleasure. The juicy flavor pops on my tongue and I savor every bite.

  I don’t know why Lucas decided to be nice to me or how he knew I was starving, unless he really was watching me all night but whatever the reason, I’m grateful.

  As I am enjoying my food, Nadine stumbles into the kitchen resembling ten kinds of drunken hell. Black eyeliner is smeared under her eyes. Red lipstick covers her mouth like she’s a little girl playing in
her mother’s makeup for the first time. She still wears her dress from the wedding, albeit one strap is broken while her bra is nearly showing, and her dark hair is sticking up wild and in need of a brush.

  “That looks good.” Her eyes gloss over at the sight and smell of my food.

  If she touches my cake, I may stab her with my fork.

  However, she ignores me completely going for a bottled water. She then starts rummaging through the pantry and proceeds to squirt canned spray cheese into her mouth. This can’t be good. I decide to pack up my food and take it to my room. As soon as my feet hit the second stair, I can hear her retching. I rush up the stairs faster. I don’t even want to know what is happening with her and there is no way I am cleaning up her puke either. I’ve witnessed one too many of her episodes.

  With my cake in hand, I go out onto my private balcony. The view is breathtaking. Our town looks so different from up here. When I am down there it seems so bleak, but up here it’s beautiful and full of life. Reflecting the appearance of a city instead of a small town. The cream cheese icing melts in my mouth as the lights in the homes below begin to go out.

  I wonder how many times Lucas has stood out here looking down on the rest of us feeling like a king? I look in the direction of his balcony which is right beside mine. Suddenly light spills out from his door. I step back into the shadows and watch for him, not really wanting to talk to him.

  He steps out wearing only his boxers and my breath catches in my throat. How can someone so gorgeous have so many different sides? There’s the jerk-face Lucas, the good son, the caring guy who gives to the less fortunate...the guy who saves a girl he hates a plate because he knows she’s hungry…

  He’s baffling. I can’t help but wonder what is going on in that mind of his. He’s standing at the railing, his knuckles stretching over the sides tightly. Even from here I can see his knuckles go white from the force of his hold. The view of the town below seems so insignificant in comparison to seeing Lucas right now. He’s beautiful, there’s no other way to put it.