Chapter 10
ten
. . .
Had he taunted Lennox on purpose? Yes, and he didn’t feel a lick of regret for resorting to cheap tactics, either.
The smug know-it-all wanted to sit on a high horse and act like he was the better person?
Well, Evan had plenty of experience with his type, and he never let them win if he could help it.
He sure as hell wasn’t letting one ruin his vacation.
Lucy had already taken a stab at it, but he was still smiling, dammit.
He’d identified special request number one the moment he’d entered the house.
Roses. The staff had filled the entire bedroom with them, as in entirely.
He’d had to move a few vases onto the balcony to reach the bed without being stabbed.
The scent still permeated the air, even with the windows thrown open.
If there was a rose shortage, he knew exactly where to point the finger.
“Oh my God, how lovely!”
Evan let his eyes roll closed as Lennox took it all in. Schoolmarm had his hands pressed to his mouth as he circled the space, gushing over each bouquet.
Marta’s eyes had sparkled when she’d told him about the requests. No doubt everyone thought it was a grand romantic gesture. Only his darling ex knew the story behind why he hated roses, and she’d gone to excessive lengths to remind him of it now.
Lennox buried his face in the blooms and inhaled. “Westin, are you secretly a romantic?”
“No,” he lied, turning and stalking outside. Lennox followed like a hyena sensing weakness.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know.”
“You’re supposed to be showering.”
“I’m going to. I just want to know why romance makes you grumpy.”
“Do I have to remind you why you’re standing there?”
Lennox sobered, the delight melting from his face. “Right. Apologies. Again. I’ll be ready in a jiff.”
Lennox reappeared twenty minutes later in loose grey pants and a short-sleeved button-down with pale grey-blue striping. It was only half-buttoned and clung to the places he hadn’t fully dried, showing off a surprisingly cut torso.
He might act like a milquetoast, but the guy clearly knew what a chest press was, which was just shocking enough to make Evan take a second look.
His eyes were arresting against his almost-black hair and olive skin.
They were currently more blue than grey, which meant Lennox was feeling better.
Why he’d noticed that the guy’s eyes were a barometer of his mood, Evan couldn’t say, but he expected to qualify for a job with The Weather Channel before the week was out.
“What?” Heath asked, stopping next to the kitchen island to finish buttoning up. Evan realized he’d been staring. Awkward.
“You look almost civilized.” He watched the blue shift as a dark eyebrow arched.
“And you look ready for a three-hour tour with Lovey.”
“Was that a Gilligan’s Island joke?”
“Maybe.”
Evan’s mouth twitched into a half-grin as he grabbed the keys and slipped on his shoes. “There’s hope for you after all.”
“So, about the accommodations.”
Evan climbed behind the wheel of the cart and waited for Lennox to get situated. “I’m not spending my honeymoon on the couch, no matter how poorly you think of me.”
Lennox blanched. “I realize this is a sensitive time, but I’d remind you we were both screwed over.”
“Hon-ey-moooon,” Evan repeated, with emphasis on each syllable. He held out a hand for the wire still clutched in Lennox’s fist, which the grump slapped into his palm with unnecessary force. “Plus, I bet I’m older.”
It was another victory he’d not usually brag about, but he’d take what he could get at that point.
“Fine, Grandpa. The couch does look cushy.”
Evan replaced the wire and closed up the console. The cart started with a gagging purr.
“There’s a sleeping porch.”
“There is?”
It was amazing how quickly Lennox rebounded. “Yes.”
“Well, why didn’t you lead with that?”
The answer was that he enjoyed pushing the guy’s buttons. Lennox was so easy to rile, he couldn’t help himself. He’d need a twelve-step program once he got back to Boston and only had Owen to work with.
“We should probably come up with a relationship story before we get there,” he said instead. No sense in showing his cards so early in the game.
“Oh God. They’re going to ask us questions.”
“We met at a charity function. I swept you off your feet, and we’ve been together ever since.”
“That fast? We’re not lesbians, Westin.”
The cart swerved as he laughed. “You might also want to use my actual name.”
“Only if you use mine.”
“You got it, pookie.”
“That is not—screw you, Westin.”
“Okay, so what’s a reasonable relationship timeframe in your world?”
He hesitated. “Oh, I don’t know. A few years? I’ve never actually lived with someone.”
“Seriously?”
“Why is that so shocking? I like my privacy, and my place is small. There’s never been anyone worth packing my books for.”
“Just how many books do you have?”
“I don’t flip and tell.”
Evan laughed again, nearly hitting a chunky palm in the process, and caught the upturn of Lennox’s lips in the twilight. It was close enough to count as a smile.
“Okay, then you make up a story.”
Silence followed until Evan thought for sure Lennox wouldn’t respond. “No, I like the charity auction. It’s very posh, and I’m sure these people know all about that.”
“But you don’t?”
“High school teacher, Westin. The only auction I’ve been to was in Texas and involved farm animals.”
“I need to hear that story.”
“No, you do not. No one does. Just… what sort of charity is it?”
“Cancer research. Specifically uterine.”
“That is very specific.”
“It’s the only good thing my father does with his money. Of course, he only does it for the tax write-off.”
Well acquainted with the sort of people who might own an island, Evan was prepared for stilted conversations regarding stock prices and that nastiness in whatever place the upper crust was currently pretending to be concerned about.
The roaring party they walked into took him completely by surprise.
The resort boasted about its exclusivity, claiming accommodation for only up to twenty people, but they had clearly stretched the rules for the ones signing the checks.
There were at least fifty guests milling about the main building and adjacent patio, with its unobstructed view of the blazing sunset.
“We have party crashers!” someone yelled from amidst the din, and he could see Lennox’s feathers ruffle.
“I had a reservation,” he muttered, jumping slightly when Evan dropped a hand onto his shoulder.
“Let it go, man. We’re here, they’re here, and it looks like they know how to have a good time. Just go with it.”
He received a glare for his trouble, but the eyes stayed blue, even as they glanced at his hand and shrugged it away. Score one for chilling out the schoolmarm.
A willowy and graceful woman with greying hair pulled into a low bun materialized from within the crowd. Her smile was warm, and her light green eyes held the shimmer of at least two prior glasses of the white wine she was holding.
“There you are! Allow me to apologize for upending your plans. I’m sure this is hardly how you envisioned the first night of your honeymoon.”
Evan took it in stride. “Nonsense! We appreciate being invited. I think this is exactly the way to celebrate. Right, pooks?”
He gave Lennox a nudge and watched the brow lift in response. Was he about to be punched in the mouth, or would Lennox run in fear of the rich people? Evan couldn’t quite decide.
Another woman appeared, slinking her way over to steal his breath. Wearing a flowing jumpsuit in a deep, sultry red that set off her long, black braid, she flashed a gorgeous smile as dark brown eyes rimmed with thick lashes flickered between them.
Well, hello.
He could feel Lennox’s eyes latch onto him, and the judgement was so thick he could taste it. He gave the beauty his best smile while muttering, “Fuck off,” out of the corner of his mouth.
“Are these the poor souls whose vacation we ruined?” she asked in a voice like velvet.
Goddamn. His dick was still complaining about the abrupt and abrasive end of his airplane interlude.
Even getting himself off in the shower hadn’t appeased it.
He needed a wild night with a willing and enthusiastic participant.
Someone who stirred up that lusty fire of infatuation.
The feeling you couldn’t get enough, but would eagerly die trying.
Actually, make it a weekend. Hell, he’d take a sabbatical if the right person came along. Anything to feel like more than the sum of his parts. Sex with Lucy had become robotic. Get in, get off, get out. He wanted someone who wanted him back.
“They are,” the first woman confirmed, holding out her free hand to them both. “I’m Olivia, and it’s my party ruining your trip. This is my niece, Isabella.”
Evan took Olivia’s offered fingers and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Delighted to meet you, Olivia. Trust me, there’s nothing you could do to this trip that would ruin it.”
Lennox coughed as he turned his attention to Isabella, but he ignored whatever sarcasm followed. Instead, he marked the way her deep chocolate eyes held his, then melted slowly down to his shoulders and chest.
When they returned to his face, her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it brought to mind a slew of images that weren’t polite to discuss in mixed company.
“Il piacere è mio, Bella,” he said in Italian, his voice low. Beautiful felt inadequate. The woman was magnificent.
She laughed and took a small sip of her wine, a deep crimson that matched the silky material clinging to her curves. “?Intenta halagarme, senor?”
“Ah, I guessed wrong.” He inclined his head in apology, his eyes dropping to her lips, which twitched upward in response. “Though it’s honesty, not flattery, senorita.”
A full smile bloomed, and she rolled her eyes, but there was a light blush on her cheeks. He was still in the game.
“You must be the two we need to butter up so you don’t pan us online.” A stately man joined them, holding out glasses of wine, which Evan accepted, and Lennox declined.
“Nate Spencer.” The newcomer took Evan’s hand in a brisk and firm handshake. He was tall and fit, with the perfect blend of salt and pepper in his hair. It was easy to picture him in a corner office at the top of some New York City skyscraper.
“Evan Westin, and I promise you have nothing to fear from me,” he said, casting a look to Lennox, who stared back with open hostility.
“What’s your price then, sir?” Nate asked Lennox, grasping his hand and throwing another beaming smile.
Lennox flustered, half laughing, half fading to pale. “Oh, ah, I’m harmless. And… er… Heath.”
“Welcome to the party, Harmless Heath, and Evan Westin!” Nate boomed, wrapping his arm around Olivia’s waist. “A little insider information. Tonight, the kitchen is preparing the same menu we had when we met here thirty years ago, but I’ll tell you a secret.
They could serve me whatever they wanted, because I remember nothing outside of this stunning woman. ”
Olivia slapped his chest playfully. “Watch out for this one. He’s a charmer. The food will not disappoint. I assure you.”
“I’m ready for anything.” Evan patted his stomach, conscious of the way Isabella’s eyes momentarily dropped to inspect the product through the thin material of his shirt.
Absolutely anything, Bella.
“Excellent!” Nate gestured toward the amassing group. “Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the family.”
“I hope there isn’t a test later,” Lennox whispered, his eyes locked onto the two beautifully set tables overflowing with people.
“Don’t worry, we grade on a curve,” Isabella joked, and Lennox responded with an awkward laugh.
“Oh, good, because I don’t stand a chance. Though now I feel bad for never cutting my students the same break.”
Her eyes lit with a smile. “Do you teach?”
“I do.”
She flattened a hand against her chest, the smile widening. “Humanities Professor at Columbia. Specializing in 19th and 20th century Caribbean and US Latino Literatures and Cultures. I was in Puerto Rico before joining everyone here.”
Lennox’s eyes brightened to a sheen. “Amazing! I’m at Kennedy outside Boston. AP Lit.”
“I know of it! A good friend is on the board. The faculty has done wonders in bringing the school’s scores up. You’re to be commended.”
The two of them sidled closer, Isabella slipping her arm through Lennox’s as they walked together toward the crowd. Evan slowed to a stop and sipped his wine thoughtfully. He’d just been masterfully cock-blocked—by Lennox.
A slender hand patted his shoulder, and he turned to find Olivia wearing an amused smile.
“I do believe your husband has stolen the girl,” she said with a laugh. Nate gave him a wink and led her away with a gentle hand on her back.
Unbelievable.