Family Bonds- Ethan & Nora (Amore Island #25)

Prologue

“Would you like another drink?”

Nora Jones glanced at her nearly empty espresso martini, arched a brow, and forced a smile. “Sure.”

The first sip of the cocktail that people with better posture and stronger confidence ordered hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d expected. Might as well get another.

Around her, the casino bar hummed. Less chaotic than the slot machines she’d just abandoned. One night out. Some fun. A little pretending to be the version of herself she’d always wanted to be before she met up with her father tomorrow.

She needed this. Needed the boost. Needed to prove to herself she wasn’t the fuckup he’d always hinted she was. The overweight, quiet, daydreaming kid he’d told to “try harder,” to “get serious,” to “be more like everyone else.”

At twenty-nine, she was done trying to earn his approval. Done letting his voice echo in her head. With her mother living in Canada with her new husband, and her circle of friends shrinking, she wasn’t about to let loneliness win.

Her father wanting to make amends could be another thing she was setting herself up for, but it wasn’t as if she had much else left in Vermont.

When the next drink landed in front of her, she drained the last of the first and leaned back, letting the muted lights and soft din of laughter wash over her.

Mid-April on Amore Island had always felt a little magical. Maybe that was nostalgia talking. Funny, considering not much more was all that wonderful in her childhood until she moved at twelve after her parents’ divorce.

“Hi.”

She turned her head and hoped to hell she could pull it together. “Hi.”

“I’m Ethan.”

Yeah, she knew. Did he recognize her?

Ethan Bond. Youngest child of Mitchell Bond. Her father’s boss.

“Nora,” she said.

He put his hand out to shake. Didn’t seem he recognized her. Why would he?

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been a kid, ten, maybe eleven.

Didn’t really matter. What he’d remember would be a girl with round cheeks, the oversized glasses that always slipped down her nose, and the hair she never bothered to tame. She spoke only when spoken to, quiet in a way that made her almost disappear, hoping to not catch any more criticism.

If she’d ever wished to be more outgoing, it hadn’t happened back then. Not in her teens either. But somewhere in the last few years, she’d changed.

The woman standing in front of him now had taken control of her life. Finally!

“First time to the island?” he asked.

She could lie, but why bother? “No. I was here as a kid multiple times.”

“The same,” he said. Which was funny considering his brother owned the casino they were in. Actually, since her father rose the ranks of Bond Enterprises, she knew Ethan owned a small stake in the casino also.

Guess he didn’t want anyone to know who he was. Ironic in a way and she swallowed the bubble of laughter that threatened to escape.

“It’s a lot busier here than I thought it’d be.”

“For a small island, they get good business. The ferry ride over isn’t long and worth the trip from Boston.”

“It was,” she said.

“So you’re visiting from Boston?”

“Just moved there,” she said.

His slow smile widened, his gaze landed on her glass just as she lifted it to wet her parched throat.

Oh. My. God. Ethan Bond was talking to her.

Tall. Dark. Gorgeous. The kind of man whose name came with wealth, success, and an effortless confidence that could knock the air right out of your lungs, and your feet out from under you.

He could have any woman in this place. God knew there were plenty flashing perfect smiles, endless legs to go with a whole lot of tits and ass. But he came over to sit next to her.

Nora Jones.

The woman who’d worked her ass off—literally—to earn the curves she had. No one would call her a model, and she didn’t need them to. She was strong. Healthy. Comfortable in her skin for the first time in her life.

Maybe not as confident internally, but she was getting there.

And if Ethan Bond had chosen her to talk to tonight… maybe she was doing something right.

“From?” he asked. “Or do we just want to sit here and drink in silence? I’m adaptable.”

“Burlington,” she said.

“You’ll get nicer weather here for sure. Not as harsh of winters, but you can’t escape the snow completely.”

“No,” she said, putting a polite smile on her face. She was so not used to small talk.

Or sitting in a bar alone.

Definitely not a man hitting on her.

This was the start of her new life. To be the person she always watched from afar.

It was liberating to know she succeeded that way to strangers.

Not that Ethan was a stranger, but he didn’t know that.

She turned to look at the action some more. The place was more than half full that she could see. More than when she’d been sitting at the slots steadily losing money she couldn’t afford to lose.

But it was all about tonight. About preparing her for the first face-to-face meeting she’d have with her father in over five years.

He’d be in for a shock and she couldn’t wait for his surprise. And maybe a little praise at how she turned it all around.

The bartender slid up and Ethan pushed his empty beer forward.

“I’ll take what she’s having,” he said, a teasing glint in his eye. “I’d offer you another, but unless you want to pound that one, we can sit here like sophisticated adults and chat.”

A soft laugh slipped from her lips. In her own ears it came out low and husky, almost seductive. Definitely not what she’d been aiming for. She’d been trying to keep from giggling like a giddy schoolgirl, but the way his eyes darkened told her she’d nailed something else entirely.

And three hours later, when they stumbled into his room, their clothes falling to the floor as fast as she landed on the mattress, Nora told herself to let go.

To be free.

To live in the moment.

To give herself one night of pleasure, of being the woman she’d always dreamed she could be.

But sometime in the dark hours before dawn, the thrill bled out and the regret seeped in sharp and cold like a nasty slap to the face. Or a condescending statement from her father.

What the hell did I do this time?

The guilt rolled over her in waves higher than a storm pounding them to the beach, drowning her in that familiar pit of self-loathing.

She wasn’t cut out for this kind of reckless behavior. And she had no idea why she’d ever thought she was.