Read Online Step Submission (Billionaire Bareback Steamy Taboo Romance) by Nikki Wild - Free Book Online Page B

stared, holding my breath as Kennith slowly pushed open the door to the manse, revealing an entryway that seemed much brighter and warmer than I’d remembered it.
     
    It was as though, in my absence, everything about the home had improved. There was a weight missing from it, one that had always seemed so unbearable, so stifling. The walls no longer pressed in on me, and the shadows that had once haunted every corner of the place had fled, leaving behind the warm glow of the many sconces and chandeliers in their wake. I almost felt guilty for returning, as though it was my absence that had bestowed new life upon the house.
     
    But I knew it wasn’t because of me. It was because of my stepmother’s voice no longer ringing through the halls, her heels click-clacking on the tile and the hardwood floors. It was because my father’s unsettling, and certainly willful ignorance did not hang over us like a shroud any longer. It was because Kennith was the new owner, and for that, I was grateful.
     
    “I’d like a new room,” I said quickly and a little too loud. My voice echoed, and I grimaced. Rehab makes you smaller, thinner, quieter. I barely recognized my own tone. “Please,” I said much more softly this time.
     
    “Any one you’d like,” Kennith assured me. “Please, Colette. This is your house as much as it is mine. You’re welcome to it. It’s not like it was back when we were kids.” He rubbed the back of his neck then, as if the mere allusion to our childhoods made him uncomfortable. “You probably haven’t eaten yet, have you? We could go to the kitchen and find something. Or Mrs. Maynard could make us something.”
     
    “Simple is fine,” I told him. I wasn’t ready for a full-on meal. There were too many butterflies flitting in my stomach, and I just didn’t have the room.
     
    We strode easily to the kitchen, a space I’d rarely spent time in as a child. Still, I knew something had changed there too. I just couldn’t put my finger on what, exactly.
     
    I sat down at the marble-topped kitchen island, watching as my stepbrother rooted around in the fridge first, and then the pantry. I wondered if he had any idea at all how to cook, or if I’d put him out by blowing off his suggestion regarding Mrs. Maynard.
     
    “If you need help…”
     
    “I’ve got it,” Kennith said, pulling a blue and orange box out of the back of the pantry. His eyes glittered and his smile stretched wide from ear to ear. “Mac and cheese. I haven’t had this stuff in a while.”
     
    I squinted at the box. “Are you sure it’s still good?”
     
    “Seems so,” he said, looking it over. He opened it a crack, inhaled, and then nodded. “Yeah, it should be fine.”
     
    I looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Can you figure it out? Like I said, I can help you, if you need it.”
     
    Kennith laughed. It sounded merry, like wind chimes in a warm breeze. The pit in my stomach reminded me of how much I had missed that laugh.
     
    “I think I can manage,” he told me. “It is pretty straightforward. The directions are right on the box.” He set it down on the counter near the stovetop and fished about in the fridge for some butter and milk. “I know I haven’t always been the most responsible big brother in the world, but I promise that I can figure out how to feed myself, at least.”
     
    I cringed. “I didn’t mean…”
     
    Kennith closed the refrigerator door. He looked at me. His eyes were warm, soft, filled with nothing but tenderness and love. I’d never seen him look at anybody like that before. Not even Evie.
     
    Then again, I hadn’t spent a lot of time sober until recently, so my memories had to be taken with a grain of salt.
     
    “I was joking,” he said, his dark brows knitting together in a frown. “You used to have a sense of humor, Colette.”
     
    I shrugged, uncomfortable. “Maybe that was just the booze.”
     
    “I don’t believe that,” he said as he searched for a