Mockingbird (A Stepbrother Romance #2)(48)

I snort. "I'm not in the mood. Maybe after I have some college credits under my belt."

"Don't wait too long. I know we haven't had a real talk about this, but as long as you're careful and use protection, there's nothing wrong with some… experimentation."

I just stare at her. She stands up, and I flee the room before she explains what she meant. Back in my own room, I finish getting ready, slip into my own shoes, and head downstairs to greet the guests. Bob is the first to arrive. He chats with Mom while the caterers set up. Antonio's is taking care of the food. For that, I am very happy. Unfortunately I can't touch it until this farce is over. I try not to look bitter. I want some of that gnocchi they're warming up in a chafing dish. One by one by two, more guests trickle in, and then about fifteen arrive at once.

The groom appears last.

My heart skips when I see Apollo. He gets out of the car and looks at me for the briefest second before turning away to open the door for his father, and my knees go weak. A look of genuine anguish crumples his face as he turns away from me. His father walks into the house, beaming, as my mother runs off to hide. I'm going to have to go get her in a moment. I do the greeting.

"Hello, Diana," Apollo mutters, looking away from me.

"Hello, Apollo."

When he thinks I'm not looking he stares at me, and I swear I see a tear threatening to form in his eye. He looks like he's going to his grave.

There is something wrong here.

He brightens up when it's time for me to go get Mom. She's pacing the dining room, and grins nervously when she sees me. I nod and take her arm, and we walk out into the living room.

For a moment this feels real, and right. All her friends are here. Bob is going to officiate. The living room has never felt so bright, so full. I find myself smiling. I walk up to Bob with her, and she stands next to the man she's already married. Vows are exchanged, they sound like something on TV. He puts a ring on her finger, and there's clapping. I join in. So does Apollo.

He's the only one not smiling. I start to frown too, then force myself to perk up when Mom turns to face me.

Please, don't hurt her. Not now. Please don't hurt my mother, I beg you.

From there it's a simple matter of going through the reception motions.

My unease grows by the instant. I watch this stranger dance with my mother to an Elvis CD playing on her old boombox.

Fools rush in, indeed.

I just need to get away from Apollo and get my mind off of all of this. Dinner first, then cake. That steamer tray full of gnocchi has my name all over it. Antonio's makes the best, the sauce thick with ricotta cheese and bits of sausage, all stewed together to perfection.

Then Apollo grabs my arm.

"We need to talk."

"No."

"Please. Diana please, just give me a few minutes. I'm begging you."

"Fine. Where?"

"Outside. Anywhere but here."

I slip away from the revelry and Apollo follows. I can feel his eyes on me, drinking me in, pulling me to him. I try to make myself full of cold fury directed at him, but I just can't. Sooner or later people are going to see us talking.

'This way."

I lead him through the back door and out behind the house. As soon as the door closes, I round on him.

"What is it? What do you want?"

"We need someplace more private."

"Not a chance in hell. You're lucky I went this far with you."

"Diana, please. You need to hear what I have to say. Please."

Damn him to hell.

"Fine," I sigh. "This way."

There's a path that leads away from the old house, towards the viewing pond. There's a bench and a stand of trees here, a perfect place to talk about whatever this is.

"You can't mean to make a play for me," I snap at him. "You’re my brother now. Stepbrother. Whatever."

He rubs at his eyes. Why is there a big bruise on his jaw? How did I not spot that before? I almost reach for it but clutch my hands together instead.

"Say what you have to say, or I'm leaving."

"I'm not who you think I am. Neither of us is."

I blink a few times. "What the hell are you talking about."

"There is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

He tenses, drawing in a breath that doesn't come out. Something is happening here. I feel everything slowing down, the world thickening like oil in the cold. Something that's going to define the rest of my life is about to happen.

"My father and I are professional thieves. We're here to steal that Vermeer painting. The whole point of this is to get close to your mother so we can get the passcode and encryption key for the vault."

I snicker. Then I snort. Then I bust out laughing.

"Is this a joke? Do you think you can feed me some lame story so I'll forget what I…" I close my mouth and turn away.

"Diana please, listen to me. This is not a joke or a wild story or a prank. It's the truth, I swear on my mother's grave." His voice tightens. "Please."

When I turn back I see the wet in his eyes.

I haul off and slap him, hard. I throw my full body into it. When my hand connects to his jaw it snaps his head to the side and he stumbles. Then I do it again, knock him the other way. He falls to his knees.