Falling for his Step-Sister by Alie Garnett
Chapter Thirty-One
“Is therea reason I was nearly run down by a redhead in a Jeep?” Frankie asked as she walked into the kitchen on her way back from some errand she needed to run, though she wouldn’t say what.
Jonas couldn’t see her because Louisa was holding him hostage with a sharp little fist and an amazing right hook—a right hook that had sent him to the floor with one swing.
“Yes, Jonas is an ass,” Louisa stated from above him, her fist raised.
It was when Louisa had punched him that he’d realized he had made a mistake. He should have just talked to his sister about his plan. It had been a great plan that had fallen into place since the two sisters were already in town to pack up Louisa’s remaining stuff from George’s house. It was just a stroke of luck that they had asked him if they could stay with him for the night. He had needed their help in this.
But things hadn’t turned out as planned. Not at all.
“I thought I was the only one who thought that,” Frankie said and looked over the island at him and chuckled until she saw that his eye was turning colors. “Did the redhead hit him?” Her voice even sounded sincere.
“No, I did. He lied to me to get her here.” Louisa grinned at what she had done, proud of herself.
“So, this wasn’t a little family reunion?” Frankie waved her hand around, which made the dozen bracelets on her wrist clink noisily.
“No, he wanted me to lure her over for some nefarious reason.” Louisa nearly hit him again as he tried to sit up.
Holding up his hands in protection, he said, “Not some nefarious reason, I wanted to talk to her and tell her that I love her.”
“Oh, he loves her,” Louisa mocked.
“I do, and she won’t talk to me on my own.”
“Have you tried? She’s actually very easy to talk to,” Louisa stated, finally relaxing her fists and then checking out the back of her hands in amazement.
“Jonas is more used to screwing her,” Frankie said as she sat down on an island stool.
“How do you even know? You weren’t even there,” he asked his sister, who now had the most unbecoming shade of blue hair.
She shrugged. “I hear things. Mostly from this one, so stop getting caught at it.”
“I happen to be in love with her,” he announced to both of them.
“So, you keep saying to me, but do you say it to her? Because I think she might be more interested in that information than me. I’m a bit put off by it. I mean, you’re supposed to be my brother, and she’s kind of my sister. You’re stepping into the icky there.” Frankie made a face of disgust.
“I can’t talk to her, so I can’t tell her. She happens to live in a house surrounded by a half dozen overprotective sisters,” he said, knowing exactly where she was.
“That’s just an excuse. There are only three that live there now: Lucy, Agatha, and Buzz, which is the same amount you have here. Yet you’re sitting on the floor afraid of a nineteen-year-old that wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless you hurt her sister; then it seems she will pop you in the eye.” Frankie laughed and mimicked a punch.
“I’m not afraid of her.” He didn’t look at her either in case she popped him in the other eye. She had really surprised him with the first, which was how Buzz was able to get out of the house without him catching her and talking to her.
But Frankie was right; he knew where she was. He had known all along. All he had to do was knock on her door … and probably get another black eye from another sister. Then maybe he’d get to talk to Buzz. It was just a toss-up at that point.
“I think that’s a dangerous house for me right now,” he said.
“You think, Jonas? You got her pregnant and then walked away,” Frankie stated, making Louisa’s eyes pop. He hadn’t informed her of either.
But if he hadn’t, and Louisa hadn’t, who had? Was Frankie talking to Buzz or even another sister?
“I didn’t know until this week, and I told her I wanted to be in the baby’s life. And Buzz’s,” He hurried to tell Louisa as he watched her fists clench again.
“If you already told her, why do you need to tell her again?” Louisa demanded, looming over him.
With his arms up again in protection, he stated, “I didn’t actually tell her I wanted her, just the baby. But neither of you were there. I just found out I was going to be a father.”
“So what? This family is full of people who don’t actually care about being around. Why would you want to be?” Frankie asked.
“Because I am not my father, or yours, or Buzz’s. I just want to be a dad and spend my life with the woman I fell in love with. Be a family,” Jonas said from his heart.
“Go get her then,” Frankie replied with a grin. It seemed he had finally won her over.
“And don’t mess up,” Louisa added, reaching out a hand to him.
Grabbing it, he asked, “Will you two come with me and have my back?”
“Fight with my sisters?” Frankie asked as if she had never done that with Louisa.
“Possibly.” He couldn’t say it wouldn’t happen; he was sure it would.
“I’m in if Muhammad Ali there is.” Frankie pointed at Louisa, whose only answer was an enthusiastic nod.
His sisters were backing him on this, but they might side with their new sisters if push came to shove. On the drive over, they seemed enthused about the prospects of battling every woman in that house in order to find the one he loved. It seemed they were both into romance at the moment, and this operation had taken on an air of a fairy tale—a written one, of course, or so Louisa had informed him as she patted him on the head.
Pulling to a stop outside the house Buzz lived in. The house he hadn’t been to since the day he had found out she was his stepsister. That was when his nerves started to catch up with him. Maybe Buzz didn’t want him in her life; maybe she was happy with how they had parted.
And perhaps his two young sisters were not who he should have brought for this operation. In the house, all the lights were blazing, which meant the house was probably full of people. Maybe even husbands who would kill for their women.
Out of the car and into the cold night, he walked up the front steps and onto the porch before knocking on the door. Within seconds, the door flew open, and the teenager from lunch so long ago looked him up and down and said dryly, “You’re not the pizza guy.”
Then she slammed the door in his face before he could even respond. Not that he had a response planned for that.
Knocking again, he was sure that the kid was telling everyone he was there, and they were mobilizing.
“Maybe you should get pizza and bring it back. I didn’t think of a distraction before. I think you need a distraction,” Frankie said from behind him.
“Go back to the car. I’ll tell you if I need you,” he hissed at her.
“But then we’ll be way far away in the car, unable to help,” Louisa said. “I like the pizza idea.”
Before he could shush them again, the door opened once more, and the same teenager looked at them. She held the door open wide and yelled, “See? I told you it wasn’t the pizza guy. Just that guy Buzz let get her prego.”
Then she slammed the door on him again, except he was quicker this time and put his foot out to stop the door from actually shutting. When it bounced off his shoe, he pushed his way into the house.
Yes, he knew he was trespassing, but the teenager wasn’t letting him in, and nobody else would answer the door.
Clearing his throat, he stood straight and stated, “I would like to talk to Beatrix.”
“What’s the password?” a black-haired woman asked. She and been at the house weeks before also and had been the one who had given him Beatrix’s name the night they had sex in the bathroom, though he didn’t know her name, much less a password.
He said the first word he thought of, “Toast.”
A brunette popped up and gave him the most surprised expression he had ever seen before. “Holy cow, man, that was it. How did you even know that?”
“Lucky guess,” he said, just as a pillow hit him in the head.
“You ass. Get out of the house,” Harper stated and came after him at a full run. He may not have played football long, but he knew when he was going to be tackled.
That was until Frankie popped in front of him and took the blonde down with a groan. Instantly, the battle was on, with the brunette hurdling the couch and the black-haired woman rushing his way. Louisa took on the brunette, and he headed for the stairs at a sprint.
It wasn’t going to be easy to outrun these women, but he had to try.
Up the stairs, he was happy all the doors were open, and the rooms were empty, except one had a redhead sitting, reading a book on a bed. Dodging hands, he rushed into the room and shut the door, locking it behind him.
Leaning against the door, he could hear someone on the other side trying to open it. First with the nob, then with pounding, and then he was sure with a shoulder. There was a loud thud, then a curse.
“They have the key,” Buzz said calmly.
“I don’t care. I have you here, and I’ll talk to you until they murder me.”
“Murder? They wouldn’t murder you. Bodies are so hard to hide. But I suggest you pick which limb you can live without before they open the door.” She went back to reading, not even caring that he was there.
This is what he had been waiting for: to get her alone and talk to her, though it didn’t feel like they were alone with the constant stream of yelling and cursing coming from behind him. But this was his shot, and he was taking it.
“Fine, okay, I came here to tell you that I love you, Beatrix P. Lovely. I want to say I fell for you the moment I saw you, but that was just lust. I think I fell for you when you tackled me. You were willing to put yourself in danger for me and didn’t even think of how it would affect you. At the time, I didn’t know about your family’s fighting skills.” He didn’t move from the door, in case the constant pounding resulted in it actually opening.
“You can’t love me; I’m just like my mother, remember?” She reminded him as she slammed her book shut.
“You are nothing like your mother, and I wish I’d never said you were. You are complete opposites. She only cares about herself, and you care about everyone but yourself. Having me sign that document proves it. You would face me, tell me about the baby, and face my possible anger just to make sure she never for one moment thinks she isn’t loved,” he said and walked away from the door for a moment, hoping that the lock held until he could convince her. He needed to get closer to her. He couldn’t do this across the room.
She shook her head. “Jonas, you aren’t in love with me. You’re in shock over the baby. I know how you feel. It took me a little to get my head around it, and I was puking every morning as a reminder. And if you don’t want them in the room, you have to move the dresser.”
At her words, he tried not to smile as he moved the big piece of furniture the three feet to cover the door. It was heavy, and he wondered how Buzz knew that it could be moved, or how many times she had moved it. Then he sat on the bed, far enough away to not spook her, but close enough that he could touch her if he was brave enough.
Her warning had shown him that she was interested in what he was saying and didn’t want their conversations to end. That, or she didn’t want her sisters to kill him. Either one was a good sign.
Jonas touched her leg with the tips of his fingers, and when she didn’t move, he slid an entire hand over the bare skin of her ankle, missing the feel of her skin under his hand. “No, I was in shock in my office. That’s how you got away from me before I could tell you that I want you in my life. That you are my life.”
