Dirty Ella: A Fairy Tale Inspired Stepbrother Romance Read online

  “What are you doing up?” I asked her, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the doorway. She grinned at me.

  “This book is so good, Mom,” she said, gushing. “I can’t stop reading.”

  “You have school in the morning,” I reminded her. “You’re going to be in such a bad mood tomorrow.”

  She shook her head, giving me a mischievous look over the top of her book.

  I went and sat on the edge of her bed, giving her a fake stern look as I took it away and marked the page, then sat it down on the table next to the bed.

  “It’s time for sleep, sweetie,” I said, stroking her hair. I kissed her forehead and laughed when she gave an exaggerated pout, which quickly turned into a grin when I smiled at her.

  “Can I finish my book tomorrow?” she asked.

  “When you’re done with your homework, sure,” I told her.

  “Are you going to be home tomorrow night?” she asked, and my heart clenched in my chest. Lately I’d been working a lot, taking up extra shifts at the bar. We were down a person and I couldn’t afford to hire another one at the moment. Though business was usually good, it would slow down unpredictably sometimes, and the past couple of months it had been tough to pay the bills. I tried not to let on to Madison that we were in trouble—I didn’t want to worry her, but since her father had left, it had been much harder making ends meet.

  I shook my head sadly. “I have to work,” I said. “But I’m taking Saturday night off.”

  Her face brightened. “Can we go see a movie?”

  I smiled at her, touching her cheek. “Maybe,” I said. “If you go to sleep.”

  She nodded, snuggling deeper under the covers. I kissed her forehead again and tucked the blanket under her chin, then turned the lamp off and headed into the living room. I sat down on the couch and took my shoes off, relieving some of the pressure of having been on my feet all day. I lay back on the couch and took a deep breath, trying not to think about the money situation and instead focusing on how to make the most of the time with my daughter on Saturday.

  2

  Eric

  “I want to go from here,” I said, pointing to the edge of my property on the map, “to here.”

  My lawyer nodded, studying the map. I had decided on the new project only a few weeks before but I was growing more excited about it by the day. I would go home to my hometown and expand my property, maybe put in a few developments to bring some much-needed traffic to the place. I had come from a relatively poor town, though there were a few of us who had been lucky enough to grow up among moderate wealth. Putting some life into it by expanding on its existing charm would benefit everybody.

  “How many properties are you thinking about buying?” asked my lawyer, a man named Jared who’d worked with me since I’d started my business and clawed my way up to the top. I was one of the most prominent real estate developers in the world and had made my fortune before I’d hit thirty. Part of that had been luck, but I’d always worked hard in life and been driven to succeed.

  “All of these,” I said, pointing up and down the couple of blocks that were near the south side of my property.

  Expanding south would include some land I’d wanted to get my hands on forever, beautiful pieces of land that would be excellent places to develop. I could see the potential of the town and grew more excited just thinking about what I could do there.

  “I want to check them out first to see what kind of structures are already existing.”

  “Would you like me to go through and map it for you?” he asked.

  “I’ll do it,” I said. I’d always felt too big for where I’d grown up, but now I was back I felt a nostalgia that made me want to explore and see some old faces. I wanted to spend some time strolling the blocks, getting to know the scenery before I made any offers on the properties. “Probably over the next couple of days. I’ll call you after and we can draw up plans to make offers.”

  Jared nodded, opening his briefcase and filling it with the paperwork we’d been working on for the last few hours.

  “You want to get a drink tonight?” he asked, closing the case and looking at me over the table.

  “I don’t think so,” I said, shaking my head.

  Since I was back home, I found myself wanting to spend time in the house I’d grown up in. I wanted a comfortable night at home, one in the quiet and peace of the place that held my fondest memories.

  “Call me tomorrow,” said Jared. “I’ll talk to you then.”

  “Have a good night, Jared,” I said, and watched him leave before getting up from my desk and stretching, then walking through the house and into my living room. I sat on the couch, looking over the map of the city and imagining all its potential. I fell asleep on the couch like that, wrapped up in my work, and woke the next morning cramped from being in one position too long.

  I got ready for the morning and planned to walk the surrounding neighborhoods in order to get a grasp of what was around me. I was familiar with the town, but even when I lived there I didn’t spend a lot of time in the areas around my home. I had no reason to, and I was usually busy with projects or work that I was doing.

  I left the house in the morning, walking across the property to the south side where I wanted to expand. It was beautiful land, acres of fields full of flowers and old crops that had somehow continued to grow year after year even though no one tended them anymore. Part of the reason I wanted to expand was to have somewhere to put new houses, to get some tenants who would help fill the empty land and make it flourish.

  I made it to the street and walked along it, noting that there were more residential lots than I’d remembered. The thought made me pause—it was usually harder to convince people to give up their homes than it was to get them to sell their businesses. Still, in my line of work, I’d learned that there was almost nothing money couldn’t buy if I offered the right amount. I saw enough potential to imagine it was worth my investment, whatever the cost.

  The houses were interspersed between businesses, some of which were closed. It was Sunday and the place was relatively quiet in the morning. I walked past two stores—a pet store, as well as a thrift shop—before I got to one that was open, a beauty boutique operating out of an old Victorian house. I went inside, looking around as I waited for somebody to greet me.

  “Hello,” said a woman, coming down the hallway from another room. She smiled at me, looking me over. Her eyes became half-lidded and her smile flirtatious. I cleared my throat, grinning at her.

  “Hello, miss…?”

  “My name is April,” she said, putting her hand out to shake mine. I took her hand and smiled graciously when her touch lingered, though I pulled away after a moment.

  “I’m Eric Kyle,” I told her. “I used to live here—”

  “I know,” she said, her eyes going wide in recognition. “Eric Kyle. Wow. Do you—do you need a haircut?”

  I shook my head. “I actually wanted to talk to you about your shop, here,” I said, looking around at the vivid decorations all over the walls. There was art everywhere in bright colors and photographs by local photographers hanging all over the walls. There was music playing, a local rock station that came softly from a stereo in the back room, where there were sinks for shampooing and hairdryers. It was a nice place with lots of character. “How long have you owned it?”

  “About three years,” she said. “Bought it just after I finished school and have been doing well ever since.”

  “That’s great,” I told her, smiling. “Three years is impressive in this economy. You must be one hell of a businesswoman.”

  She gave me a coy smile, flattered. That was good. The more someone liked me, the more amenable they would be to my offers.

  “Why are you interested in my place, Mr. Kyle?” she asked.

  “Please, call me Eric,” I said. “I was looking to develop some land over here and this property is just gorgeous. You’ve done a good job keeping it up.”
r />   “Thank you,” she said, giving a satisfied smile.

  “I’m just taking a look around at the surrounding properties,” I told her. “My company wants to evaluate the place.”

  She nodded. “It could use some sprucing up,” she said brightly. I returned her smile.

  A customer walked in then and she excused herself, telling me to come back another time so we could talk. She put a hint of suggestion in her words I was familiar with; oftentimes, people reacted that way once they found out who I was. My name was synonymous with wealth in this country and it attracted many who wanted to get closer to me than I was comfortable with. I told her goodbye politely, flashing her a smile on the way out. I could use her interest to my advantage in the future and made a note of it as I made my way down the street.

  I stopped at a couple more places, including a hardware store that already had a for sale sign in the window. I spoke with the owner and told him to get in contact with Jared immediately.

  By the time I made it around to the other side of the block, it was close to eleven in the morning. There was a bar on the corner of the street that sat on a large property with a pond on it. I’d always admired the place—I’d been partnered a lot in school with a girl whose parents owned the place and a few times we’d met up in one of the booths inside, crouched over our homework and awkwardly avoiding eye contact. I tried to remember what I knew about Julia’s parents before I went inside. They’d been kind people, always welcoming to me. They treated me as if Julia and I were friends rather than study partners and had often asked me home for dinner at the end of the night. I always politely declined, not necessarily wanting to spend more time with Julia than was strictly necessary. She didn’t like me and I knew it. I’d been attracted to Julia since the very beginning, but had kept it well hidden through our time at school together. It had never developed into a full-blown crush, and for that I’d been grateful. Being half in love with somebody who loathed me would have been even more painful in addition to the inherent trauma of being a teenager.

  I went inside the bar, which was just as I remembered. It was dim inside, lit only by the natural light that filtered in through the open windows. I looked around before walking up to the bar. There were two other people in there, a pair of men who were sitting in a booth in the corner.

  It was then that Julia came around the corner from what looked like the kitchen. She had a rag in her hands and was drying them off. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me, her hands freezing in front of her. Her eyes met mine and I was stricken by how beautiful she looked, how much she had grown into herself. Instead of the skinny girl I had both competed against and partnered with throughout high school, the woman before me had blossomed. Her long red hair was up in a ponytail, but there were curling tendrils framing her face. Her lips were a soft pink and her eyes were still the color of emeralds. Her hips were wide and lush, and her skin was creamy and soft looking.

  As I watched her, a hint of something passed over her face and I caught her glimpse at my mouth the same way I had hers. It was a strange moment, one that had me mesmerized by her face, by the hint of attraction there.

  “Eric,” she said, breaking me out of my reverie. I realized I’d been staring at her for a moment too long, that my gaze had been inappropriate. I looked away for a moment before meeting her eye again.

  “Hi, Julia,” I said. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said dryly, tossing the rag in the sink. “What can I get for you?”

  “Whiskey,” I said, deciding that I might as well have a drink while I was here. If I was going to convince Julia to sell her property, I was going to need a drink. I knew from experience that trying to get her to do anything was like pulling teeth. She was as stubborn as anyone I’d ever met in my life, even among high-powered businessmen.

  “The good stuff?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. I grinned at her.

  “House,” I said. She rolled her eyes and picked up a glass, pouring it half-full with the brown liquor. She passed it across the bar to me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. I looked at her for a long moment, drinking in her obvious disdain. For some reason the look on her face made a soft laugh come from my chest. She was almost absurdly unhappy to see me. She frowned when I laughed, her brow creasing.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, smiling at her. “I’ve never been looked at like that before.”

  “Like what?” she asked, her face blushing red for some reason. She looked away from me.

  “Like I just insulted you,” I said. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

  She shrugged. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ll try to control my expressions.”

  “You don’t have to bother,” I said.

  She was holding my eye again and I found it hard to look away. Despite the obvious dislike on her face, her skin was flushed and her lips were parted as she looked at me. I felt my body stir at the sight of her and had to shift on the stool in order to adjust myself. “And to answer your question, I’m just in town visiting home.”

  “Uh huh,” she said, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip. It was an infinitely distracting gesture, one that made my eyes linger on her mouth. I couldn’t look away from her.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “You always have a motive,” she said.

  “Oh?” I asked. “And what is it this time?”

  She stayed quiet, glaring at me. I took a sip of my whiskey and grinned.

  “You’re just the same as you always were, Julia Price,” I told her. “All fire.”

  “And you’re the same as you always were,” she said. “Irritating.”

  I put my hand to my chest, feigning shock. Still, I was charmed by her words, charmed by everything about her in that moment. I couldn’t stop smiling, despite the look on her face like she wanted to throttle me.

  “That’s a terrible way to treat an old friend,” I said to her. “I thought you liked me.”

  She scoffed, giving a soft, exasperated laugh. “You didn’t like me.”

  “I did,” I said, meeting her eye. She held my gaze even while she began to clean the bar with a rag, rubbing her hand in circles over the wood. Then she looked away, blushing.

  “Did you come in here just to bother me?” she asked, putting a hand on her hip and tilting her head sideways.

  “I came in here to catch up,” I told her. “And to talk business.”

  “I don’t want any of your business,” she said, “other than you paying for that drink.”

  I smiled at her, pulled out my wallet and a bill. I put it on the counter and stood up, downing the rest of my drink.

  “It was good to see you, Julia,” I said, chuckling at the look on her face. She rolled her eyes at me again and gave me a sarcastic wave before turning around, not watching as I left the bar.

  About the Author

  When I’m not indulging my sweet tooth with things I really shouldn’t be eating, you’ll usually find me buried deep in a steamy book - reading it or writing it!

  I have a wonderful partner and a great relationship, but every now and then, I find myself fantasizing about the kind of sizzling, chiseled men you see on romance book covers. What better way to embrace those fantasies than to express them in words and share all the dirty details with you? After all, we all have a naughty side, don’t we?

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  For more information

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