Falling For My Stepbrother
Chapter 22--It's The Thought That Truly Counts-2

The small glint in his eyes makes me smile. I step forward, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him down for a tender kiss. His hands replace my waist, pushing me back as he steps forward until we're in the room. We keep walking back until we fall onto my bed.

I let out a small laugh, Vincent smiles as he kisses down my neck. "What's the occasion?" I ask. He smirks, pulling away to look down at me. His eyes scanning mine intensely. The comforting brown reminding me of the hot cocoa we shared last night. "No occasion," He answers with the same smile. "I just love you. And you know what they say, the heart wants what the heart wants." "More like the hormones want what the hormones want," I say with a laugh. Vincent grins, slowly kissing down my neck. I arch up towards him, feeling like I'm melting into my bed. I pull his chin up to lock my lips with his. His hands begin to move under my shirt to pull it off.

"Hey Vinny," I say the moment I can breathe again. He quickly looks up at me and I smile. "I love you too."

Christmas morning was the same it's been for the last few years. We all woke up as soon as light streamed into our rooms. As we sat around the tree, we snacked on some cookies. Taking turns while opening up our gifts.

Mrs. Sanders went first. It's a cool new mixer with all sorts of buttons and gadgets so she can make her favorite baked goods. Vincent and I split the price to get it for her, if we hadn't we probably wouldn't have been able to afford it. Mr. Sanders bought her some jewelry and a pair of fluffy pants she'd been complaining about wanting. I got Mr. Sanders cool socks. It sounds like a dumb gift, but his face was priceless when he opened it up. He was so happy.

I bite my lip as I watch Vincent open his own present. The signed T-Shirt Blake Parris gave me and a new pair of cleats Mrs. Sanders pitched in to help me buy. "Oh my God," Vincent says when he sees the shirt is signed. He starts hyperventilating causing all of us to laugh. "Oh my God!"

Without warning, he pulls me into a big hug. I smile against him as he squeezes me tightly. "Glad you like it," I say when I manage to pull away.

"Like it?" He basically yells. "I'm-I'm framing this. I'm putting this over my bed. I'm going to sleep with the framed version and make sure no one touches it."

Mr. Sanders rolls his eyes, "Vincent you can't possibly-"

"Shut up Dad," He stretches the shirt on the ground to admire it. "I'm doing it."

I'm about to add that Blake can probably give me a ton of other signed memorabilia. He already gave me a poster signed by everyone on the team-but I guess I'll save that for Vincent's birthday instead.

"Thank you so much," Vincent pulls me back into a hug this one gentler than the last. He kisses me on the head, a warm feeling spreading through my body. "Thank you so much Harp." "Your welcome Vinny," I say with a warm smile.

"Your turn," Vincent pushes away the wrapping that's littered on the floor. He hands me Mr. Sanders gift first.

I undo the ribbon and smile when I see Mr. Sanders has given me a complete pack with a few seasons of Game of Thrones. I had called a few weeks ago only to replace out that Mr. Sanders is a fan as well. I smile up at him saying, "House Targaryen all the way."

He scoffs, "House Stark to the death."

I let out a small laugh. Mr. Sanders and Logan would get along. They're both fanatics and I can imagine them talking for hours. I glance at the two gifts left. A big box and a smaller one. I pull the big box towards me sitting on my feet as I begin to unwrap it. Mrs. Sanders smiles at me, instantly letting me know it's hers.

I finally pull away the wrapping and my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. It's a cardboard box like the ones where you fold expensive clothes. I pull it open, a plastic dress cover greeting

me.

"No," I look up at Mrs. Sanders. She's basically glowing with happiness. The back of my throat feels like it's closing. I push away the feeling of tears as I stand while picking up the dress. I unzip the front and put my hand to my mouth.

It's the dress from the bouquet. It's not so much that the dress is making me emotional if not the meaning behind it. This dress wasn't only out of my price range, but from Mrs. Sanders too. I want to cry I'm so touched by what she's done. I walk over to her, pulling her into a tight hug. Muttering in her shoulder several Thank You's.

"Really," I add once I've pulled away. "You shouldn't have."

"I wanted to," She answers. "You looked beautiful and I saw the way you wanted it. Merry Christmas Harper."

"You're going to send pictures, right?" Mr. Sanders asks.

"You're going to look amazing Harper," Vincent beams as he stares at the dress.

Vincent wasn't invited to Logan's party. I don't think he minds much, especially after I said only the Misfits were invited. But I can see some hesitation on Vincent's face as he stares at the dress. Maybe wanting to see me in it or maybe wanting to be by my side. He's always been a fan of romance. I remember prom was more important to him than it was for me.

"Thanks," I hook the hanger onto the staircase letting the dress stand up instead of folding over. Taking my seat back next to Vincent, I grab the small present. I show it towards Vincent and smile, "Yours?"

He nods, a grand smile on his lips. I lean towards him, his gaze over my shoulder as I undo the paper. It's not nearly as neatly wrapped as Mr. and Mrs. Sanders gifts, but I don't care. A small jewelry box greets me, and I open it up to see a necklace. Silver sterling with a V as a pendant. "I should have given this to you a long time ago," Vincent says as I pull the necklace out. "Do you like it?"

My body sinks down and I feel the urge to cry start to build up again. Not because I hate it or because I feel guilty, but because I love it. I love them. The Sanders are my family and I don't know what I would do without them. I bite my lip, feeling my eyes water as I nod.

"I love it," I say trying to talk normally.

Vincent smiles, gently taking the necklace away from my hands. I pull my hair forward, letting him clip the necklace in place. When he's done, I look down at the V and smile. Turning my head to press a kiss onto Vincent's lips.

Mr. and Mrs. Sanders have content smiles on their faces. "Why don't you kids go get some more sleep?" Mr. Sanders encourages as he yawns.

"We'll have some family time once I've got a few more Z's in me," Mrs. Sanders adds as she stands up. She helps her husband up and they both head back to their bedroom.

My heart swells up. Family time. As in, I'm a part of this family. Vincent notices my eyes watering and brushes his finger against my cheek. I lean my head onto his shoulder, his soft warm lips pressing against my forehead giving me several kisses. "You alright, princess?" He asks softly. I smile, replying in the same quiet tone. "Just really happy."

I feel Vincent smile against my shoulder. He intertwines our fingers together, pulling me up to my feet as he stands. For a moment, he looks down at the necklace. A proud grin appearing. "I should have given you this a long time ago," He gives me another small kiss before tugging me along towards the stairs. "Come on. Let's cuddle up and watch Santa Claus."

As Vincent pulls me along, a sinking feeling suddenly drops in my stomach. I love the Sanders. I love them more than anything. They're the only family I've ever had. There's no way I could ever leave them. They're it for me.

Logan

When I got home for the holidays, all the staff instantly noticed. Throughout the house, they all tried tracking me down to say hi. Many of them I recognize and remember. Like Richard, my main man. He's basically a butler/chauffeur/nanny. Managing everyone in the house and occasionally serving my family when we have friends or guests at home.

"Richie!" I exclaimed when I saw him.

He's gotten older, which is expected. He's been working for my family since before I was born. He looks slightly startled before recognition and joy suddenly spread on his face. When Vero and I were kids he would take care of us whenever our parents were gone. I remember he used to drive us around me to the arcade and Veronica to several shopping sprees. Richard was a little of everything honestly.

"Logan," He looked so happy to see me. He gave me a big hug and I honestly thought he was going to cry. "I'm so glad you're back, I missed you kid."

That's what everyone said to me. They all went about how good I look. How happy I seem. How great it is that I'm back and how they miss my joking around.

The way staff works here is kind of complicated, so bear with me. Richie was our main guy because he's always here. Whereas the rest of the staff has different schedules. The chef only comes certain days and only stays for certain time slots. We have several people that clean the house-after all—it's huge. The gardeners only show up about once or twice a week. But during the spring they're here almost every other day.

The days leading up to Christmas, my dad let's everyone off to go spend time with their families. The only person that sticks around is Richie. But even he goes home for Christmas Eve and takes the next day off.

"Honey," I hear my mom call from downstairs. I look over at the door. Sur has already lifted his head up from my bed. "You coming down for the game? I made bean dip."

"You should go Lo," Richie says. He's holding the spare videogame remote in his hand. When I glance back at the flat screen, I see my screen turn red letting me know he just killed me off. "Ha," Richie shouts victoriously. "I win."

"Dammit," I grumble as I get up. "You cheated."

Richie grins, "Go down, I'll clean up here."

"Thanks Richie," I say. I pat my leg, Sur stands up on my bed and yawns out some of his sleep. Once he's at my side, we both head downstairs.

I'm wearing a pair of fuzzy socks so I can slide against the tiles. It's football night which means I have to have my jersey on or my mom might actually faint. As we pass by the center of the house, I notice Cap'n is under the Christmas tree. She found an ornament at the bottom of the tree and keeps hitting it with her paw.

Our tree isn't real, it's the plastic kind that folds up. But it's also fifteen feet tall. Every year, my mom helps the staff decorate it. When Vero and I were kids we would pitch in. But getting up on the ladder is a "safety" hazard and now we're not home when the tree is set up.

My parents also refuse to put the gifts under the tree before Christmas. They wait until everyone

is asleep and place them in the middle of the night. Which means I have to set an alarm for two

in the morning to remember to put their own gifts under.

I walk past the entrance and make my way to the living room. My dad brings in a bowl of pretzels from the kitchen and takes a seat beside my mother. I glance at Veronica and she pats the spot on the couch next to her.

I take my seat just as her legs sprawl on my lap. My mom is wearing black stripes under eyes, her giant foam finger in her hand. "Come on," She says with crossed fingers as the game starts up. My dad pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He takes a sip of coffee and I can't help smile. Once he fell asleep during a game. He missed a touchdown and my mom was furious. Ever since then, he refuses to fall asleep. This typically means drinking coffee later in the day.

I reach over to the snacks and grab some chips and my mom's homemade bean dip. It's been years since I've had it. My mom's bean dip is the best thing in the whole word. I moan out when I put the dip in my mouth and start focusing more on the food than the actual game.

I grab the bag of chips, setting it to my side as I pull the bowl of bean dip onto my lap. Sur starts

to wag his tail when he notices I have food. I give him one chip to satisfy his begging before starting to eat out of the bowl.

"What's our defense like this year mom?" I ask with a full mouth as I finally look up. My whole family is staring at me and the dip. I stop chewing for a second and absorb all their faces. Veronica looks amused and somewhat grossed out by how much I'm eating. My mom- who never glances away from a football game even during commercial break-has a big smile on her face. And my dad looks kind of sad. Like the bittersweet gaze parents get when they drop their kids off to college.

They're probably aware I haven't had mom's food in years. I bite my lip ring, swallowing everything down before holding up the bowl at them. "Do you guys want any?"

They all shake their heads. Except Veronica who laughs, "Well I did want some, but I guess sharing is caring."

"Do you want me to get you a spoon?" My dad asks.

I actually consider it for a moment before shaking my head. When I turn my attention back to

the game, so do they. My mom answers my question with statistics and all these random facts

she knows about several players. By the time we score a touchdown, she's already up and yelling, waving her foam finger right in my dad's face.