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Chapter Eleven
Stayingat his father’s house was nearly impossible!
Judith was intolerable, and her house guests were even worse. One had turned quickly into two when Ross Chamberlain Jr had brought his friend Brett Andrews with him.
Ross was an obnoxious kid who didn’t care what anyone thought about him, but Brett wasn’t from money. It also turned out that Ross didn’t care a bit about Louisa, but Brett seemed to be very interested in Jonas’s blonde-haired little sister. Everything he said made her giggle like a schoolgirl, which she was, but some college kid shouldn’t make her do that.
This sudden need to protect his sister was new and a complete surprise to Jonas. They had never been close, but here he was, wanting to kick both men from the house because neither dared to talk to his sister.
Which was why he was staying at his dad’s house right now, as his baby sister watched a chick flick in a tank top she shouldn’t have been able to wear until she could buy alcohol. Ross was out of the house or at least not in the den, but Brett was practically sitting on top of his sister. His dad had been right to worry, even if the guy he was worried about wasn’t the one who was leering at his daughter.
“Jonas, can you get us some snacks?” Louisa asked him innocently—too innocently, in his mind. He was watching the stupid movie from the most uncomfortable side chair ever and was enjoying it, or so he pretended.
Before he could answer, Brett added, “And drinks, man.”
He got up from the chair in a huff, sure that the kid’s hands would be all over his sister the moment he left. It was what he would have done in the same situation. But of course, he had been a pervert at that age also.
Hurrying out of the room because he wasn’t leaving them alone long enough for anything, he headed to the kitchen. Today, Judith had actually found a chef who would work for her. No more take-out for his stepmother. Not that he cared; he would eat anything.
“Jonas, come and meet the new chef,” Judith called to him the moment he entered the kitchen.
Jonas rolled his eyes. He hadn’t wanted or needed to meet the person who managed the food. If the chef withheld the snacks, on the other hand, then there would be war.
Looking from his stepmother to the woman in the white coat, he stopped breathing. Beatrix in the flesh. Her red hair was tied up in a tight bun on the top of her head, and she was staring at him like he was an alien. He was sure he was looking at her the same way.
“Bea Bradford, this is my son, Jonas.” She indicated to him.
The redhead looked from him to Judith and back again. Her face had gone completely pale under the splattering of freckles across her nose. “Son? How old are you?”
“That’s impolite to ask, dear. Where are your manners? Didn’t your parents teach you anything? He’s not my real son, just my stepson. I’m not nearly old enough to have a child his age, but I’ve been married to his father for years now. I raised him,” Judith stated as if she’d done anything special for him over the years.
He had been thwarted in all attempts to find her, but now she was here, right in the same house as him. Taking her hand in his, he couldn’t not caress the small warm hand as he did. “Bea, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Instantly, she pulled her hand from his and tucked it into the pocket of her white jacket. “Nice to meet you also, Jonas Raiden.”
“The pleasure is all mine.” He went into the pantry and grabbed a few bags of chips. No matter who was in the kitchen, his sister was alone in the den with Mr. Handsy.
“Ignore him, Miss Bradford. Remember, you have a clause in your contract about fraternizing with the household members,” Judith said more to Bea, but it was also to him.
“Are you living here, Bea?” Jonas asked in case he wanted to find her later. And he did.
“She is not. There is no need for that. I do not need to provide a home for the staff, Jonas,” Judith answered for her, just like she did for Louisa all the time, though he was sure that Beatrix was more vocal than his sister was.
“But what if I need someone to make me a midnight snack? Who will make that for me?” His eyes were on the redhead only; his words were only for her.
Judith huffed. “Quit flirting, Jonas. It’s unbecoming of you.”
“Let’s ask the chef, Judith. Is it working?” He stepped closer to Buzz.
Buzz stiffened. “It is not, sir.”
“Is B an initial or like a bee, buzz-buzz?” he asked, watching her lick her lips. He was sure her mind went right back to that bathroom a few days before, just like his had.
“Buzz-buzz,” she whispered.
“I like it, buzz-buzz.” He looked at her unflattering coat but only saw the body beneath it.
“We have menus to go over,” Judith stated loudly. “You must leave the room, Jonas.”
