6. Sully
SULLY
The convoy of black SUVs pulls into the private airport, stopping beside two waiting jets.
Harper's family plane sits closest to the terminal, sleek and polished, while another jet waits a little further down the tarmac.
The second I climb out of the SUV, warm summer air hits me, and a familiar voice calls out.
"Sully!"
I look over to find Sam Rose, Harper’s brother, leaning against the stairs of the second jet, sunglasses on, a beer in one hand. He strolls over before I even have a chance to grab my bag.
"I'll take that," he says, lifting it straight out of the trunk.
"What happened to hello?" I tease.
“I don’t have time for pleasantries, I have a plane full of people ready to party. It’s the party plane.” He grins.
I laugh. "Party plane?"
He nods toward the jet. "That's the responsible plane." He points to Harper's jet where Pierre is already helping his mom with her bags while Jo fusses over whether Emmett packed everything. "This ..." He pats the side of his plane, "... is where the fun people sit."
"Right.” I look over at Harper’s plane, and Emmett gives me a wave, and I do the same. Guess I’ll be seeing him on the other side. It’s weird seeing him and Fish walk onto the St. Pierre/Rose family plane. I forget he is literally dating the St. Pierre family.
Bouch appears at the top of the stairs. “Finally, you’re here.”
I roll my eyes, this is going to be one hell of a ride.
One of the staff comes over and takes my bags as Sam leads me up the stairs.
It looks like I’m the last one to arrive as all the seats are filled.
Evan, Bouch, and Nelly are there. There’s a guy I’ve seen around before but don’t really know, and a woman called Marlowe, Harper’s right-hand woman.
“You know everyone, don’t you? I mean, you know your team, but I’m not sure if you know Nate Lewis, he’s one of my oldest friends. He’s married to Camryn, she’s one of the wedding organizers.” He looks up from his phone and nods at me. “And I’m sure you’ve met Marlowe Miller.”
“Yes, I know her.” I wave, and she nods but turns her face back to her laptop.
“Right, well, it looks like you need a beer and we are ready to take off,” Sam says, directing me to a seat next to Evan.
I give him a nod as I settle myself in, and moments later a beautiful brunette flight attendant hands me a beer.
She turns and walks away, and I must stare a moment too long because Sam comments.
“You’re welcome.” He grins.
I shake my head and throw back some of my beer.
“It’s going to be one long ass flight,” Evan whispers to me.
“I’m not sure who is worse, him or Bouch.”
“Bouch, always Bouch,” Evan adds, and we burst out laughing.
Bouch cracks open another beer. "So ...” He looks around the cabin. "Who's single on the plane?"
Nate doesn't even look up from his phone. "That's your opening question?"
"It's an important one," Bouch says. His eyes land on Marlowe. "Marlowe, are you single?"
She slowly looks up from her laptop. "Yes. But don’t even think about it.”
“Really? Just like that.” Bouch pouts.
“You couldn’t handle me.” She smirks.
“Fuck, that’s hot.” Bouch grins. “But I respect your boundaries, your decline is noted.”
“Thanks.” She chuckles.
“Do you know what single women are going to the wedding though?” Bouch asks.
“Do not touch Camryn, the wedding planner. She’s my wife, and Kimberly is Sam’s ….” Nate starts, but Sam glares at his friend.
“She’s a friend and off-limits to you idiots,” Sam states.
“Okay, no wedding planners,” Bouch says. “Who else?”
“Issy’s sisters will be there, Evelina and Violetta,” Marlowe adds.
“Violetta is off-limits because of Sully,” Bouch adds.
“Hey, do not involve me. Violetta is free to hook up with whomever she likes,” I tell him.
“Okay, so Evelina and Violetta, who else?” Bouch continues to pester Marlowe.
“There are probably a couple of Issy’s close friends from London, but I don’t know them.”
“Oh, British women, hot,” Bouch says, elbowing Nelly, who nods.
“I think that’s it,” Marlowe says.
Bouch frowns. “That isn’t great odds.”
“It’s an intimate wedding,” Nate adds.
“Not intimate enough for me.” Bouch moans.
I shake my head at him.
“So, are you all single then?” Marlowe asks.
“Are you going to wing woman us?” Bouch asks.
“No, I have better things to do than that. But if it happens to pop up in a conversation, then I will look out for you.”
“Yes.” Bouch grins as Nelly nods along. “Knew I’d like you.”
Marlowe shakes her head but is smiling. You can’t help but smile when Bouch is around, even though he is as annoying as fuck.
“Bouch, are you really that hard up for women?” Sam asks.
“No, but I like to be careful. It’s hard to work out who has the right intentions sometimes,” he says, picking the label off his beer bottle.
“There are also puck bunnies, some are loud and proud, and others pretend they aren’t but are,” Nelly adds.
“How are you two making me feel sorry for you?” Marlowe chuckles.
“Because we’re lovable.” Bouch grins.
“You guys really have problems with women?” Nate asks.
“We can get them, but ulterior motives can be disguised. We’ve both been caught out. I mean, look at Pierre, prime example of his last wedding,” Bouch explains.
“That was a disaster.” Marlowe nods in agreement.
“Yeah, I’m glad he found Issy because that was messed up what happened to him, and he is Pierre St. Pierre, a legend,” Bouch says.
“He’s a fan girl,” I tease.
“He is my countryman, of course I will respect him,” Bouch states fiercely.
“Usually, I don’t do this in a group setting …” Nate starts, “And I guess I am breaking my rules a little, but I’m the boss. What I am about to say cannot leave this plane,” Nate says seriously. “I mean it.” He points to each of us.
“We know people,” Sam adds, and the fun, party guy has disappeared.
What the hell is going on?
“I think you’re scaring them, Nate.” Marlowe giggles.
“They need to know the gravity of what I am about to tell them,” Nate says.
She nods and lets him carry on. “Have any of you heard of The Paradise Club?” he asks.
We all look around at each other and shake our heads.
“Good, that means people are following the rules.” He smirks.
“Well, The Paradise Club is a members-only sex club.”
Wait, what did he say? The entire plane falls silent.
“It’s not just any sex club, it is the world’s most elite and private sex club. You have to be personally invited by me or someone in the club.”
“You would have no idea it’s a sex club, it is beyond anything you could possibly be thinking about right now. I’m also part-owner, so I’m being biased, but it honestly is the best place,” Sam tells us.
“Think of the most luxurious nightclub you have ever been to and times it by a million,” Marlowe adds.
I’m guessing she is a member. I mean, she’s friends with Nate so … wait … does that mean Harper is a member? Does Felix go there? Issy? Pierre? Emmett? I’m so confused.
“I created this place for the elite to go and have fun without the cameras, the groupies, or the gold diggers finding them,” Nate explains.
“We also opened up a private resort in the Caribbean,” Sam adds.
“Wait, you have a sex island?” Bouch asks.
Nate smiles. “You could call it that, yes.”
“Is it far from the wedding?”
Nate shakes his head. “Not by private plane.” He smirks.
“Are you saying that we could go?” Bouch asks softly.
“It is something that I can arrange. You will need to get tested by our medical staff, and you will need to sign a million NDAs. I am strict on the rules, even though technically I’ve broken them by telling a plane full of people.”
“We won’t tell anyone,” Nelly adds.
“No, I promise,” Bouch agrees.
“From what you were saying, you are having problems having fun with women you can trust. On my island and at my clubs you can play with as many women as you want and not one of them wants anything more from you than sex.”
“My brain has exploded,” Bouch says as he looks at Nelly who seems shell-shocked.
Nate then goes on and explains everything about this club, and I’m not going to lie, I’m a little curious. He’s selling me on it.
The cabin door opens, and the warm Caribbean air rushes inside.
"Now ..." Sam says, pointing at all of us. "Remember, this isn't spring break, behave yourselves."
We laugh as we make our way down the stairs onto the tarmac where the heat hits immediately. It's warm, salty, and somehow already feels like a holiday.
"This ..." Bouch says, stretching his arms above his head, "... is much better than New York."
Staff are waiting with cold towels and drinks, and I take one gratefully. "Welcome, Mr. Sullivan."
"Thanks." I glance across the tarmac to where Emmett and the guys are being picked up by golf carts.
“Hey, babe,” I hear Nate call out as he walks over to a gorgeous blonde and kisses her.
“I’m working,” she chastises him, but she doesn’t look angry at all.
Am I going to be surrounded by lovey-dovey couples for the rest of the week? It’s lucky Cassidy and Ember didn’t come, this would be hell for them. My mind wanders to the girls as I pull out my phone.
Sully: Arrived safely.
Cassidy: Good, have fun.
Sully: Wish you were here, but it’s lucky you’re not, too much love.
Cassidy: Poor baby, no single ladies, I take it?
Sully: I’m not looking to hook up. I’ll leave that to Bouch and Nelly. Just wanted to check you were okay?
Cassidy: I’m fine. We’re fine. We ordered pizza, finished another pint of ice cream, and watched enough crap movies for a lifetime.
Sully: I can jump on the next commercial flight if you need me to.
Cassidy: No! We’re good. Now piss off, we’ve started another movie.
Sully: Enjoy.
A fleet of golf carts arrive moments later.
“Welcome to Issy and Pierre’s wedding. I’m Kimberly,” the cute blonde with a southern drawl says.
“And I’m Camryn. We’re the wedding planners.
These golf carts will take you to your bungalows.
Your luggage will already be there. We have a welcome dinner tonight at seven in the main dining hall, your guide will point it out.
Welcome, and we hope you enjoy the weekend.
” She smiles as Nate grabs her and pulls her away from the group.
“Marlowe and Evan, you are in this cart as your bungalows are near each other.” Kimberly points out. “Bouch, Nelly, and Sully, you are in this one,” she says as the guys fight for the backseat. I happily take the front beside the guide. “And, Sam, this is yours,” she says.
“Are you my guide?” he asks, but I don’t hear her answer as we pull away.
The golf cart winds along narrow stone pathways, weaving between swaying palm trees and gardens overflowing with tropical flowers.
Every now and then the trees open up, giving us a glimpse of the ocean.
It doesn't even look real. The water changes color every few feet, turquoise melting into sapphire before disappearing into deep navy out on the horizon.
"Wow," Nelly breathes from behind me.
"I know," Bouch agrees. "Who actually gets to holiday in places like this?"
I don't answer, I'm too busy taking it all in. White sand stretches for miles, broken only by rows of loungers and the occasional hammock swaying gently in the breeze. Our cart pulls up outside a cluster of private bungalows tucked among the palms. They are all connected with glass walkways into a central bungalow, which contains a living room. The three of us are sharing, which I’m fine with because as long as I can get away from these two for a bit, I’ll be fine.
"This is you three." Our guide smiles.
I climb out and whistle quietly, this will be nice.
Bouch is already halfway up the path. "I call the biggest bedroom."
"There are three bedrooms, dickhead," Nelly calls after him.
"So?"
We head inside, the place is ridiculous, with open-plan living, and floor-to-ceiling glass.
There’s a kitchen that’s bigger than my apartment in New York.
The doors at the back are folded completely open, giving us uninterrupted views straight across the beach, and the ocean is just there.
I walk straight out onto the deck. A private plunge pool sits off to one side while a set of timber stairs disappear straight down onto the sand.
"No way ..." I pull my phone out. Cassidy is going to love this as I film what is in front of me. I walk back in, and I can hear the boys talking about something.
“We’ve called tunnels one and two. You’re in tunnel three, that one,” Bouch says, pointing to the one at the furthest end.
Perfect, it’s away from them. When these two are together, they are loud.
I walk down my glass tunnel toward my own little pod-like bungalow.
There is a king-size four-poster bed with white drapes on it.
I snap a picture, then I walk further in, and there is a stone bathroom.
I take another photo of that and then walk out to my private deck, which looks out to the ocean.
This is amazing. I send the photos to Cassidy.
Sully: You'd hate this place.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Cassidy: You're an asshole.
Another message.
Cassidy: Also ... wow.
I grin.
Sully: Told you I wished you were here.
A photo comes back almost instantly of her lying on the couch with her flipping me off.
Cassidy: Living my best life.
I laugh.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and look out across the water again. For the first time since they arrived at Emmett's apartment, I stop worrying about them.