Stepbrother Broken (The Hawthorne Brothers Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

black skinny jeans, I ’ ve chosen a vibrant red miniskirt and white crop top
for tonight ’ s festivities. My caramel blonde
hair hangs long and tousled down my bare back, and I ’ ve got my best pair of black stilettos on to boot. I ’ ve spent of my time at drama school wearing nothing
but leggings and tee shirts, so any excuse to dress up a little is one I ’ ll gladly take.
    “ We can stay for a couple rounds,
max, ” Danny relents, turning toward The
Bear Trap, “ But then it ’ s back to our safe little Sheridan bubble, OK? ”
    “ How the hell are you going to
survive New York if you can ’ t even handle a little Montana dive
bar for one night? ” I laugh.
    “ Are you kidding? I ’ ll be among my people in New York, ” Danny replies, “ It ’ s
the good old country boys that worry me. ”
    “ Relax, ” I tell him, heading for the door, “ Everything ’ s gonna be just fine. ”
    A
wall of sound slams into us as I wrench open The Bear Trap ’ s door. For a moment, I ’ m
almost too stunned to take another step. The bar is full of rowdy locals,
clustered around scuffed tables and along the long wooden bar. Hard country
rock blares over the sound system, and the crowd is a sea of denim and leather.
The men sport baseball caps and bulging muscles, the women rock tight jeans and
bottle blonde hair. Danny rolls his eyes as he surveys the patrons.
    “ Well, at least there ’ s enough leather for my taste, ” he remarks flatly.
    “ A bar ’ s
a bar, right? ” I yell back over the rollicking
music, “ Let ’ s
make like the locals and pound a few back. ”
    “ I ’ m
gonna need more than a few to get over this music, ” Danny replies, making for the bar.
    “ What? You don ’ t like country? ” I grin.
    “ I ’ m
not even going to dignify that with a response, ” he
glares back at me.
    We
sidle up to the bar, squeezing between the sardined bodies of regular customers.
I catch the bartender ’ s eye first and call out our order
for two gin and tonics. The bartender looks at me a little skeptically — I get the feeling this is more of a PBR and whiskey
joint — but furnishes us with our first
round all the same. With my cold cocktail in hand, I finally feel like I can
relax and get a feel for this place. Two barstools open up, and I settle into
one beside Danny. Sipping my drink, I turn to give The Bear Trap (and its male
patrons) a little once over.
    My
eyes sweep over most of the guys here without pause. Trucker hats and bad
mustaches are both deal breakers for me, alas. But as I lean around Danny to
check out the other end of the bar, my gaze comes to a screeching halt as it
alights on a very familiar face. A face I ’ d never expect to see in a place
like this. The sculpted, arresting face of one, Luke Hawthorne.
    “ What the hell?! ” I breathe, hiding behind Danny at once.
    “ What? What ’ s the matter? ” my friend asks, baffled by my
behavior.
    “ Don ’ t
look, ” I caution him, “ But that guy down at the end of the bar, with the
short brown hair and the sexy stubble? That ’ s
Luke. ”
    “ Who? ”
    “ Professor Sexy Pants, ” I hiss.
    “ What?! Oh my god, where?! ” Danny crows, whipping around in his seat.
    “ Danny! I told you not to look! ” I breathe, grabbing hold of my friend ’ s arm.
    “ Goddamn, Sophie. You weren ’ t kidding, ” Danny whistles, “ That is one fine specimen of a man, right there. ”
    Despite
my better judgment, I peer around Danny to get a second look. Luke is standing
along the far side of the bar, leaning up against the rough wooden surface. But
even though I ’ d recognize that sharp jaw and
those dark green eyes anywhere, I almost can ’ t
believe that this is the same man who ’ s been lecturing me about the
economy for the past couple of months.
    Gone
are the professional slacks and button downs I ’ ve
grown accustomed to seeing him in. Gone are the nice shoes, the laptop, the
stacks of graded papers. Tonight, Luke