Possessive Silver Fox Stepbrothers (Stepbrothers' Forbidden Fantasies #11)

My stepbrothers hate me.

Three years of grunts across Thanksgiving tables. Three years of one-word answers at Christmas. Three years of Harry leaving every room I walk into, like being near me is something he physically cannot tolerate.

Adam is forty-two, tattooed from his wrists to his chest, and looks at me for exactly five seconds before his jaw tightens and his attention goes elsewhere.

Chris is forty-five, precise about everything except acknowledging my existence.

Harry is six-foot-seven and has perfected the art of disappearing the moment I appear.

Now my father — the kind of man who drops eighty thousand dollars on a private railcar for the bragging rights — has trapped all four of us in a luxury sleeper train through the Rocky Mountains.

Four bedrooms. One lounge. A glass dome with nowhere to hide.

And parents who'd rather die than let their picture-perfect family become a scandal.

I'm twenty-two. Not a single drop of their blood runs through my veins. And I've never even been kissed.

But somewhere between Chicago and Colorado, the silence breaks. And the reason three powerful men spent three years avoiding their little stepsister has nothing to do with hatred.

They weren't keeping their distance because they don't want me.

They were keeping their distance because all three of them do.