EIGHTEEN
WASHING UP MAY have led to a little more than expected. A little more that ended with them having to wash up all over again. Was it the sea air? The incredible home? Or was it the man who swept her up with his adoration?
They’d got there. Somehow. Still together. But at the bottom of the stairs, she stopped, holding him back from joining the voices rumbling from elsewhere.
“I should go back.”
“Back where?” he asked.
“Alessia will be worried and—”
“She’s eating with Alana, Lark, and some other girls. She knows you’re safe.” He tucked her hair back from her cheek. “I’ve posted security to keep her in their eye line. You don’t have to worry about her.”
Because he’d done it for her. Without asking. Was that an overstep or…?
“Thank you,” she said, having learned her lesson about jumping to blame him for things that weren’t his fault.
Okay, so maybe acting without her authority could be classed as his “fault,” but it came from a place of love, well, affection anyway. Love would be getting carried away… though if she thought her sense was on solid ground, she’d be lying to herself.
“I said I’d make you happy and I meant it. Whatever you care about, I care about. Nothing will happen to Alessia. Not here or at home, anywhere. If you want security to stay with her for—”
“The rest of her life?” she asked, her lips quirking. “She might have something to say about that.”
Though if the guys posted were hot, her little sister could get them into all kinds of trouble with her flirting.
“Unfortunately for her, it’s your happiness that means most to me.”
And, geez, the guy didn’t let up for a second. She’d wanted him since they’d met… okay, so maybe not the exact moment they’d met—why did it feel with every step, she was slipping deeper into trouble? Not the bad kind of trouble, the kind of trouble that led to ideas of grandeur. Ideas of tomorrow, and the next day, and every one after that. She couldn’t let herself think—no, be smart, sensible.
She tried to back away, but he kept hold of her hand. “Still, I shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t what?”
“This is a family thing and—”
“Roman won’t be here. We talk about him, not to him at times like this.”
She winced. “It’s not that,” not only that. “I’m a no one in your life, and the people in there don’t know me. You’re riding the sex high and maybe, you know, aren’t thinking with the right head.”
“You’re not a no one in my life.”
That wasn’t a judgment on either of them, just an observation from an outsider’s point of view. The people in there could think she was insinuating herself into something that didn’t involve her. And from their perspective, it didn’t. Hadn’t she herself said Roman’s addiction was none of her business?
“You know what I mean. Your family may not want to speak freely with—”
“You met Roxie, right?” He smiled. “Think anyone holds back around her? She gets to the root of everything.”
“Zane—”
“Thea,” he said, pulling her to him. “Come and have dinner with me.”
They’d eaten more than a dozen meals together. And did she really want to leave…?
With her single nod, he smiled and kissed her head.
Dinner.
Hands linked, she let him lead her through a vast living space into an even bigger kitchen, dining area. The two far walls were gone, open to another broad terrace. The layout registered fast, then it was the people at the long dining table in the kitchen, who stopped talking, that got her attention.
Okay. Four of them. That wasn’t bad. Roxie smiled. Having a friend in the room was a comfort. Zairn was there too, not exactly known, but not a stranger either. Thank goodness she’d met them in stages.
“I don’t have to tell you who this beautiful woman is,” Zane declared.
So he had been talking about her? And it was just at that, she checked the guys and…
“I thought you said Roman wasn’t going to be here.”
He leaned in, kissing her hair before speaking above her ear. “Thea, meet Struan Lowe.”
“Struan?”
“They’re identical twins,” Roxie said, full of glee. “It’s so cool, right?”
Now that she mentioned it… Yes, the guy there had the same height as Roman, the same face, but his stature, the way he was put together… and there was something astute in those eyes. Okay, so she’d only been exposed to Roman for a short time, but already she didn’t get the same impression from the guy over there, on the other side of their seafood bonanza.
Another cursory glance, but the other guy… She narrowed her eyes on him. Why was that face familiar? Ah, from Roman’s meltdown in the dining room.
“And that is Struan’s best friend, Tripp Breckenridge.”
“Tripp is everyone’s best friend,” Roxie said, sidling away from her own guy to put an arm around the smoldering man nearest Struan.
Attractive, yes, she immediately got confidence, yet there was an ease about him too. So effortless. He was just there, and damn if he didn’t know it. Rumpled shirt, finger-combed hair that curled around his ears, the man suckered her in just by standing there.
“Tripp Breckenridge…” she murmured.
It wasn’t just the face, it was…
“You’re Thom Redrick’s ex.” Hers wasn’t the only jaw to fall at Tripp’s deep, cool words. “How is he?”
“You…” Roxie backed off to look at him and then at Zairn. “Between the two of you, I think you know every person on the planet.”
“How do you do that?” Dyce asked. “You didn’t tell me she—”
“I never forget a face or a body,” Tripp said, fixated on her. “They gave him the New York transfer, and you stayed put.”
“Yes.”
“And no one could quite figure out why—”
“Rigley and Klein.”
“Ah,” he said, his head going back. “That’ll do it.”
“I wanna know the gossip,” Roxie said, creeping back to Tripp. “What happened at Rigley and Klein? Doesn’t Lilya know someone there?”
Zairn caught the back of her neck to yank her against him. “One problem at a time, Lola.”
“You think you can fix Richard Rigley?”
“No one can fix Richard Rigley,” Zairn said. “Roman on the other hand…”
“You think he’s fixable?” Zane asked, guiding her to the table. No one was sitting. It was a buffet. Plates, food, pitchers of cocktails. “Didn’t we try that already?”
“No one in the world is more ready to wash their hands of Roman than me,” Struan said, “but you know how this works, it’s not just about him.”
“It’s not just about him?” she heard her voice. Sometimes keeping it in her head was impossible. “I’m sure he would disagree. Your brother seems like the type who believes everything is about him.”
“Oh, I know a lot of those guys,” Roxie said, her head bobbing. “And I have to say, she’s right. That’s why he thinks he can get away with bullshit like the other night.”
“So what’s left? We’ve put him through rehab,” Zane said. “You want to do that again?”
“He can’t live the rest of his life in rehab,” Zairn said.
Was that an absolute?
“This is a setback,” Struan said. “What the fuck was Deacon thinking?”
“What was Logan thinking? Why didn’t we get a heads-up?”
“He can only give us a heads-up if he knows,” Struan told his cousin. “Hit him as hard as it hit us.”
“Are they in love? For real?” Roxie asked, picking food for a plate. “Deacon and this Sway? Deacon always struck me as a ‘keep his options open’ kind of guy.”
“He’s also a, ‘don’t think things through’ kind of guy,” Struan added. “Sway’s got a way of screwing with a guy’s head.”
“Let’s not touch that one with a ten-foot pole,” Roxie said, yet carried on anyway. “Does that mean you’ve been screwed by her too?”
“Sway’s a complicated woman,” Tripp said.
“Wow…” Roxie’s eyes met hers. “I haven’t slept with her, have you?”
“No!” she said quickly but followed it with a short laugh.
“I think we’re the last two on the planet.”
“I feel wronged.”
“Me too,” Roxie declared. “Where’s she at? We should get over there now, before she gets married. Maybe we can be her engagement gift.”
“She and Deacon went out before she and Roman got together,” Zairn said, probably used to getting his woman back on track. “This could be a rebound thing. A comfort lay.”
“We’ve all had those.” Tripp drank before finishing, “Never proposed to one though.”
Struan laughed, startling them all. “If you were the first Breckenridge brother to go down, it would be a sign of the apocalypse coming.”
“I will get married first, just to collect on the bet.”
“What’s it running at now?” Zairn asked. “Breck’s odds were going up, last I checked.”
“Since he and Sequoia broke up.”
“Again?”
“Who keeps track?”
“No one is keeping track of this conversation,” Zane interjected. “Has everyone eaten, should we start with that?”
Nothing on the buffet was touched, except what Roxie had on her plate, and what she popped past her lips.
“We were waiting for you,” Roxie said around what was in her mouth and Zairn nudged her. “What? They’re here, aren’t they?”
“She has a thing for shrimp,” Zairn said still looking at his girl.
“Everyone stock up, we’ll go outside sit, eat, and figure this out.”
People picked up plates to fill with food, and side-whispered conversations started.
Her whispers went to Zane. “Why isn’t your brother here?”
“Because he’d only gloat,” he said, smiling. “Roman is my mom’s nephew, not related to Rourke. He gets a pass because the blood is mine.”
“Ah… and you said he’s married already?”
After a beat, she turned her head to smile at him.
He laughed. “Yes, unfortunately, off the market.”
“Who’s off the market?” Roxie asked, picking up a nearby pitcher. “I’m always open to offers.”
“Rourke,” Dyce answered the first question.
“You want some punch, honey?”
She waved a palm. “I probably had enough alcohol today.”
“These are virgin,” Roxie said. “Unlike anyone at this table.” She poured into highball glasses. “You wouldn’t want to get with Rourke anyway, honey. He’s extraordinarily high maintenance. I don’t know how Roux does it. She’s in incredible shape, I can only imagine she needs to be to keep up such stamina.”
“Dyce,” Zairn said and walked outside to the kitchen terrace.
Her guy rested a hand on her waist. “You okay?”
“Yes, go.”
“Go,” Roxie said, putting a glass in his hand. “Take your food and keep the guys busy.”
Though he probably didn’t know quite what that meant, because she didn’t, Dyce went out onto the terrace after his friend. Struan and Tripp weren’t far behind.
Four strong, virile men, good-looking, successful…
“How many women do you think Zairn has slept with?”
“I don’t know,” Roxie said, completely unfazed, licking punch from the side of her hand. “I think he stopped counting somewhere in the four-figure range.”
She whipped around. “Really? You think…?”
“It’s possible the number reaches into five figures. Some of his twenties were a bit of a blur. Why? You want to work out a timeshare?”
Roxie took a little interpreting, but when you got it, her sense of humor was spot on.
“No,” she said on a whispered laugh. “I was just thinking the qualities of those four combined would probably cover every want on any woman’s list.”
“If you could pick and choose, sure. If we could piecemeal Mr. Perfect together. We wouldn’t want Struan’s baggage.” Baggage? “We might get lost in Tripp’s family. Dyce has the money and the intellect. Z has charm a-plenty.”
“It’s never bothered you? That he’s been with so many women?”
“I care less about who he slept with then, and more about who he sleeps with now. She’s important to me. I care very much about her pleasure.”
Mm, no doubt.
“Why are men eligible bachelors and women dried-up spinsters?”
“Because…” Roxie said, handing her a glass, then gesturing to start walking. “We haven’t changed the rules yet. We’re getting there, one bachelor at a time.”
Another laugh and then they were with the men. Plates and glasses had been put down, but none of the men were sitting. Zairn pulled out Roxie’s chair just a second before Dyce pulled out hers. There might be drama and arrogance on the island, sure, but there was chivalry and charisma too.
“Okay,” Roxie said. “We eat, and then we solve the Roman problem.”
Good luck to them all. If it was that easy, they wouldn’t be in their current predicament.