Beloved Brother

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An Excerpt From: BELOVED BROTHER

Copyright © KATIE BLU, 2008

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

"Jared, this is ridiculous. We can´t have a peaceful holiday around here with you two acting like mortal enemies," Mrs. Larabie said. Exasperation sped her words and she looked to his father for support.

"She´s right, son. I don´t know what put you two in opposite corners, but this fight has to come to an end."

Jared leaned against the entry wall hearing his parents admonish him to "fix" his relationship with Phoebe, yet again. He folded his arms across his chest. Dad helped Mary with her shrug then handed her the small clutch bag. "Nothing to fix, Dad."

Mary huffed. "Of course there is." She closed the distance to him and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. Her eyes begged Jared to agree with her. "I know it´s been rocky since your dad and I got married, but we really love each other."

"We do, son."

"I realize you miss your mother but didn´t your dad deserve to find happiness again?"

"And I found it." His father nodded sagely behind Mary.

Jared withstood the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn´t a kid and his dad wasn´t Ward Cleaver, so where was this crap coming from? "You two married when Phoebe and I were already adults. Hell, we´d even both left home already. You can do whatever you want. You don´t need my permission."

"Yes, but you two haven´t ever got on," Mary pressed.

"And yet she´s an adult. Twenty-five years of life behind her. Can we just chalk it up to difference of opinion?"

"Jared," his father warned, "whatever it is between you and Phoebe, make it right. No more arguing. I want the next holiday to be peaceful and not this refusal to talk or avoidance thing you have going on right now."

It was Easter. That gave him ´til Thanksgiving to "fix it" as he had no intention of being home on the Fourth of July.

"Now, Jared. Not later," his dad said as if reading his mind.

The door closed behind them just as Phoebe skipped down the stairs. He eyed her suspiciously. She glared. She looked way too succulent in her snug low-rise jeans. Her slinky tank top clung to her with the help of mere threads crisscrossing her shoulders and back. Crap.

"Where´s Mom?" she asked.

Phoebe fidgeted, tugging on her light brown ponytail. Her pretty brown eyes flicked to the front door, the kitchen, anywhere but settling on him. As it had been for two years since he jacked her off in the backyard.

Fuck but he still remembered the smell of her liquid heat. The texture of it, the way it made his cock shine in the moonlight. Her sweet sobs were marked forever in his mind. She´d made it impossible for him to commit to another woman when the thought of her itched below his skin, made him restless.

"She and Dad went out."

"Oh." Phoebe turned and started back up the stairs.

"Phoebe. They want us to talk."

She paused, looking at him over her shoulder. "I have nothing to say to you."

It took him three steps to reach her, take her wrist and spin her to face him. With her being one step higher, they were eye-level to one another. He watched her pupils expand. Phoebe tugged on her earlobe. "What?" she asked.

"There´s a lot to sort out." He didn´t want her to walk away. Where moments ago, he´d have given his left nut not to have to talk to her about the sex play, he couldn´t think of anywhere he´d rather be at the moment.

"There is nothing to sort out. You´re a horn-dog who looks for the nearest female to get his rocks off. What´s there to say?"

"As I remember it, Phoebs, you asked me to take care of it for you."

Her cheeks bloomed with color. "And you did. Very gracious of you. Nice to know a girl can depend on her brother to take care of such things," she snapped.