Keep Tuscany (Boston Brothers #3)

1. Colt

1

colt

Paris

14 Years Ago

There’s an ease to the air when your parents are safely tucked away back home on another continent.

“We need new fucking chairs,” I say. I want to change the subject from my clingy ex. My idiot friends won’t stop mentioning her.

I lay down two cards and pick up my exchange. My hand rounds out and I don’t react. “I raise two.” I shift on my dorm desk chair, and I swear the thing is so old it creaks every time I breathe.

Tony Ladd, one of my brothers from another mother, yells, “On it.” And he taps away at his phone. The man comes from billions and knows no limits. And Tony takes the bait on the subject switch. “Good sir, your new throne will be delivered in two days’ time. Can your precious knight ass wait?”

“Big man, with the two-dollar raise.” Danny, another one of my ‘brothers’ and best friends, laughs at me. We’re in our senior year at Xavier Prep and have landed our asses here in Paris for three months on a study abroad program. And here we are day one and Tony is already ordering supplies and is on the verge of getting bored, which is never a good sign. Bored is a bad look on Tony. Trouble ensues.

I throw a shoe at him as he begins to quote Macbeth. He keeps calling us the Knights of the Round Table. And it was funny for a minute, but he keeps dragging on the joke. It’s endless.

“Bring it. One of you idiots needs to take his money.” There’s a big guy at the table who is my assigned roommate. Tony and Danny are rooming together because I drew the short straw. My short straw’s name is Tex. I know he’s from Texas and he keeps mumbling his name in a thick accent and I can’t quite catch it. So, we call him Tex. He’s cool enough to hang and thankfully, is a shitty poker player.

Tony and I won’t have to worry about feeding Danny the win. It’s how we’ve kept him in spending money over the years. He thinks he’s a badass poker player; and he is decent. But he thinks he can’t lose, and we like to keep it that way. It’s easier on his ego that we’re not paying for him every time we hang out. We take a low pot off him every once in a while. Tony’s money comes from media and real estate, mine from investing and politics, Danny’s comes from us. He works harder for it without ever knowing we’re trying to help his situation. I just have to appear at more fundraisers than I like in order to ask for more spending money to feed to the Dansons. But neither Tony nor I care about that shit. Only our parents.

Danny’s home life is less than ideal and our families kind of adopted the three Danson boys as our brothers. We all met playing all-city pop warner football with Tony’s brother, Dax, when we were little. We all clicked and have been inseparable ever since.

For now, we just want to forget all the shit back home and enjoy Paris. Tony yells from the corner, “And a table for my good men.”

I roll my eyes and toss a chip in the pot.

He bugs the hell out of me, but I’ll miss him when we go back. We’ll graduate from high school and end up scattered around the country for college. It hurts like fuck to think about it, but it has to happen.

Danny’s deciding where he’s going to play quarterback next year. He’s got like a million offers which will lead him to the NFL. It’s his dream, and he’s that fucking good. It’s his ticket away from South Boston and to get his mom and little brother out too. Robbie, his older brother, plays hockey in college but the NHL is chomping at the bit for him.

I’m a decent wide receiver but I’m not top-tier college good. I won’t be recruited but definitely could walk on once I figure out where I’m going.

I am waiting to hear from a couple more schools before deciding, even though my dad’s hellbent I go to the Naval Academy. He was in the Army, and I guess he’s trying to capture the military vote by sticking me in the Navy. My one sister already has the Air Force vote wrapped up. It’s a shame my father doesn’t have another kid to take on the Marines. But I want to go to Yale or Dartmouth, a place he can’t possibly refuse. Something that brings pride and esteem to the family.

My other sister went to Harvard, our hometown ivy league. She snagged a perfectly coiffed fiancé, glossy-photo ready for their engagement pics. Their engagement was an acceptable bump in the polls. We’re not the fucking Kennedy’s but my parents sure like to pretend we are. France is a welcome distraction. And I promise you I will not get into a relationship, and I will not wear a tie the entire time I’m here. I was stuck in that relationship for like two years because Gemma was clingy as hell. And my dad, who is in the US Senate, liked her, thought she looked good with me. I stayed with her because I was being the dutiful son my ex-military father expected me to be.

“Yes, but I’m bored.” Tony babbles after he’s done with his Macbeth witches quotes. He’s pacing and circling us and that’s never a good thing. “Good knights, a wager?”

“Odds?” Danny looks up from a hand he thinks is good. He’s flicking his thumb under his pointer finger knuckle. It’s his biggest tell, but I haven’t informed him. It just lets me know I’ve got to fold my hand to him soon.

Tex says, “What in the hell y’all betting on?” My best friends always have a freaking bet going. Lately, there have been a lot about me.

Tony crouches like a gargoyle on the edge of his bed. “Let’s wager how long it takes Colton to find a hook-up.”

Tex says, “Hell, this polecat could probably bag someone before the next hand.” Danny puts a finger up and grins.

“We mean girlfriend. Our man, Colt’s not one for one-night stands. He’s the opposite of a commitment phobe.”

“Fuck off,” I say, and Tony claps his hands. “End-of-term history paper.”

Tony crouches so we’re eye to eye. “Are you saying you won’t get a steady girl the entire time we’re in France?”

I nod. “Yes. And I’ll do your end-of-term history papers if I do.” I reach out to shake Tony’s hand. Just then, Danny picks up his phone. I’m sure he was texting his older brother, Robbie, and Tony’s older brother, Dax.

“Do we have to involve everyone?” I groan.

Tony shrugs. “You know we don’t bet without the big brothers, you silly rabbit.”

“I’m not writing college papers, you assholes.” I was hoping to keep the older ‘brothers’ out of it. But of course, it’s always a five-way bet. I glance at my texts.

Dax: Tell him it will be for Earth Sciences instead of History.

Colt: No fucking way. I’m not writing a fucking college paper on rocks.

Robbie: I’ll take cash—50 bucks. No school this semester.

Colt: 50 bucks to the assholes who aren’t in Paris, and I write papers for the idiots standing next to me if I fail.

Danny nods at Tony and me. While Tex says, “Put your damn phone down and bid.”

Tony: Candy. Baby.

Then Tony clasps his hand again. “Now, let’s find something to tempt you with, good and just knight. Sir Cockitup!”

I groan at him. “Dude. I’m so sick of being a knight. Come on. Can we drop the round table shit?”

Tony walks away, shrugging and tossing a ball against the wall instead of playing cards. We’re all killing time until the welcome reception tonight. I rake in a pot and Danny squints. “Gotta keep you honest, kid.” I’m older than him by a month.

Tonight, we get our orientation packets and class schedules and shit. I look up and Tony’s perched on a dresser now, like a fucking owl with the house phone in his hand. His blond hair slicked back and long legs dangling. He’s in contrast to Danny’s dark hair. I fall in the middle of them, not quite as built like Danny and not fit gangly like Tony. And my hair is a mix of theirs too.

Tony dials the phone and I put a finger up and say, “Don’t.” I feel like ever since his brother, Dax, went off to college this year, I’ve had to be his stop gap. Like Dax always kept insane Tony in check and now it’s my job to rein in our king.

Danny kicks his chair back on two legs and shrugs. “What can it hurt? It will keep him busy.” Tony pranks some people and I look at the ugly grayish color of the cinderblock wall of this room. He’s insane with ordering a table and chairs, but when he set up painters to redo our rooms, he wasn’t all that crazy.

My phone buzzes. I look really quick before putting it back down.

Tony yells, “Do not answer Gemma’s calls. We cut her loose and now you get to play. Do you hear me? Nothing but strange French ass for the three of us while we’re here.”

“Hey, y’all, I could do with some ass too.” Tony jumps down and puts his hands on Tex’s shoulders.

“Yes, my good men. This, my good man, Tex, we can do. We will find you some noble ass to crush as well.”

I fold my cards and Danny takes down a fat pot that should be enough spending money for the next week. Tony winks at me. Then randomly dials the rotary house phone again. My phone vibrates again, and I know the exact conversation. It’s always about why I don’t love her like she loves me. But it’s all bullshit. She loves my family and the attention. She called the fucking paparazzi when we’d go to dinner. ‘Political golden boy son goes on a date!’ Took me a long time to get rid of her and I’m so happy to be single.

“Gentlemen, are you ready?”

Tex asks, “For what?”

“For adventure!”

We ignore Tony as he pranks someone. He explains to us, “Calling room 666.” There’s a bid and a raise. Then Tony says, “Are you possessed?” I look at him and he continues talking with a huge smile on his face. “Fine, Goodie Makenzie.” I look at my cards and ignore him. “Looking forward to it. I do enjoy a good verbal joust.” He slaps the phone down after what sounded like banter.

He turns to us, putting on a long trench coat and raising an umbrella. This will not be good.

“Onward to Adventure, good chaps! The numbers are in our favor.” We grab a cooler and an extra six-pack. “Come, the witches await!” Tony proclaims.

I follow the man who might need me to bail him out of jail later, and I should probably witness it all. My phone buzzes again and I look again and mutter, “Gemma.” In one swift motion, Tony grabs it and puts it on the ground and stabs it with his long umbrella.

Danny laughs and says, “Problem solved.”

I grin, knowing Tony will get me a replacement by tomorrow morning. And the ex won’t have the number.