by Alexis Anne
Scott sighed like he was carrying a heavy burden on his shoulders. “You’re married to your work, Ben hides in his cabin, and I . . . ”
He stopped talking mid sentence so I prompted him like a good little brother. “And you are an asshole.”
He glared at me. “Shut up.” Then he frowned. “I mean, I am. I am an asshole. And I can’t seem to get shit right with Lucy.”
Lucy was Scott’s long time girlfriend. She put up with his assholeness, so I considered her a saint. “And you think it's some silly prophecy from our lighting strike instead of, I don’t know, your inability to be less of an asshole?” Maybe the fame had gone to his pretty little head? Because by his logic, my new potential relationship with Olivia was already doomed to fail.
And I was not okay with that.
I remembered Mom and Dad shushing Grandma Kaine and telling her to stop bringing her prophecy up around us kids. Mom and Dad believed firmly that words became reality, so why put that on us? But she didn’t agree. She said the lightning strike was a sign and, combined with her cards, the universe was clear. The old had to be new again before this cycle was complete.
Whatever the hell that meant.
“I’m working on it, okay?” Scott sighed. “But I swear the universe is conspiring against me. We’re good. Solid. I love Lucy and I know she loves me, but every fucking time I start to think I should ask her to marry me, something happens. A shoe drops.”
“What kind of shoe?”
He flinched. “Usually pictures of my good old days. Occasionally a girl I used to party with wanting to sell a story. Stuff like that.”
As was typical, Scott was talking to me about his past. I think he felt safer with me than Ben. We both saw Ben as the older, wiser brother we didn’t want to disappoint, and as a result we avoided confessing our worst sins to him. Ben knew Scott partied hard during his early Hollywood years but he didn’t know the details.
I, unfortunately, did.
“There can’t be much else to hide,” I said. “The stories have been going around for years. Besides, Lucy doesn’t care.” She probably knew more than I did because of who she was. Before she ever met Scott she was a talent agent. If anyone knew all the dirt in the industry, it was her.
“I care. And I refuse to be the black stain on her life.”
“Got news for you buddy, she’s with you no matter what. You might as well get over yourself and marry her already.”
He shook his head and looked away.
It made me sad for him. He was a good guy who made bad choices when he was young. Almost everyone did something stupid. The difference here was that Scott was already rich and famous when he made his choices. He got pulled in deeper by people who wanted to exploit his position, use his deeds as leverage.
These were all in the past and he’d pulled his life together. To me—and to Lucy—his past didn’t matter. It was the man he became that mattered. But Scott refused to see it that way and was punishing himself. I’d let him do it forever if he wasn’t taking Lucy down with him.
“How about this.” I knew my brother. Knew he liked definitions and goals. “If you go a year without any more drama you let it go. Propose to that woman who loves you and give her the life she deserves.”
That got his attention. “A year?”
“A year. At some point enough time will have passed that even you will have to admit it’s time to move on. Pick a time. Any time.”
“A year,” he said again slowly. “You’re pretty smart for a little brother.” Then he smacked me on the shoulder, put me in a headlock, and gave me a noogie.
“Stop it you jerk!” I elbowed him in the ribs and twisted away.
Before I could take him to the ground he dumped a bowl of sunflower seeds down my shirt. Some of them made it into my boxers.
“What the hell?” I howled, ducking away and shaking the seeds out.
“Gotcha!”
“You son of a bitch.” We had a war going back to my first game for the Mantas. My brothers came to support me, cheer me on, fill my bag, shoes, and locker with sunflower seeds. In retaliation for their “support” I rigged a sunflower seed shower in Scott’s condo and filled Ben’s favorite toolbox with seeds.
And the war had been ongoing ever since.
“You’ll pay for that!”
He just laughed as he skipped back toward his room. “I look forward to it little brother. For now I’m going back to bed. Have fun on your date.”
Liv should always be in charge of our dates. At first I was worried, but she assured me she accounted for my schedule. Therefore I followed her blindly into the best first date of my life.
“We have fifteen minutes left,” she said, glancing at her watch. We had a picnic laid out on her boat and were anchored just off a little spit of sandbar. Our docks were still visible, but tiny from here.
She wore another bright bikini—electric green this time—with a blue Columbia shirt open at the front and a Mantas ball cap on her head. In short, she was the most beautiful woman who ever lived. Between her athletic body and her propensity for bikinis and boats, I couldn’t have dreamed up a more perfect woman.
I was smitten. Entranced. Obsessed. This level of worship wasn’t healthy and therefore I knew I was incapable of making logical decisions. I was thankful for my schedule, otherwise I might throw my life away to spend every minute with Olivia.
“Do you want more mango?” She tilted the Tupperware my way. The whole spread was delicious. Lots of fruits, plus sandwiches from the island deli, salt and vinegar chips, and seltzer’s all around.
I grabbed a large slice of the fruit. “I’m good now. Thanks.”
She sealed up the container and packed everything away except the blanket we sat on.
I scooted closer. “Thanks for doing all this.”
“It was my turn. You made dinner.”
I was wrong when I said it was satisfying to catch one’s own dinner. True satisfaction (food wise) was catching and preparing dinner for a woman. “I believe I made a promise when I left you last.” I maneuvered until we were nose to nose. “Something about kissing.”
“Mmmm.” She appeared thoughtful. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”
“No?” I teased back. This was fun.
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you bring Linc? He’s my friend too.”
Her eyes flashed with mischief. “Oh you know. Just wanted some me time.”
“Then why am I here?” I tilted my head off to the side. I could feel her lips even though we weren’t touching.
“You’re pretty to look at.”
Unlike the other night she wasn’t going to kiss me. And I didn’t want her to. This was my kiss to take and I spent a lot of time imagining how it would go. “Is that all? I’m just here for your visual pleasure?”
“Mmmm. I appreciate your lack of shirt very much.”
“I feel used.” Our lips remained not quite touching and it was the sexiest fucking torture I’d ever experienced.
“Do you have anything else to offer? Other than visual pleasure?”
I couldn’t take not touching any longer, so I reached up and traced my finger over the shell of her ear. She took a deep shuddering breath as I wrapped my hand around her jaw and neck. “I can offer this.” And then I finally—finally—pressed my lips to hers.
I took it slow. Painfully slow. Partially because I wanted to savor the experience, but mostly because going any faster was impossible. She was too soft. Too sweet to taste. The hair on my arm and my scalp all pricked. Somehow our lips touching set off every sense I had. My skin felt more, my ears heard the water, the wind, and Liv’s soft pants.
My body wanted more. A lot more. But if the porch taught me anything, going even just a little bit faster, deeper longer, would result in uncontrolled fire. A fire I almost couldn’t put out when I got home. And I was not about to repeat the pain of that experience with an hour long drive and a baseball game ahead of me. Plus it wouldn’t
be fair to Olivia.
I wanted more. And I wanted it right.
So we slow kissed on the deck of her boat for the full fifteen minutes. And when I pulled away it still hurt, but it was the kind of hurt that made me look forward to getting my ass back here as soon as possible.
“You need to be careful,” Liv murmured as she brushed her lips over mine one last time.
“Why is that?”
Only her eyes moved up to meet mine as she smiled. “Your kisses are deadly.”
8
The names might be offensive but the food is delicious
Chris
Scott was back a week later and a little less moody, so I asked him to come run errands with me. “You heard from mom and dad this week?” We rarely spent physical time together, but the Kaine’s were experts at online quality time.
“They’re getting their Vegas residency up and running.” He picked up a jar of paint and held it up. “You mind if I paint my room?”
“It’s yours. Do whatever the fuck you want with it. So did you talk to them?”
He placed the small jar of paint in the cart and then grabbed a swatch, taking it over to the paint mixing station where the woman behind the counter could mix up a batch of light blue paint. “A gallon of the eggshell please.” Then he turned back to me. “Uh, yeah. Two days ago? I was on a flight back from LA when they called. We only spoke for maybe five minutes?”
“They sound good?” It wasn’t unusual for me to miss a week or two at this point in the baseball season.
“Yeah. They’re...I don’t know...thrilled? I think this is the feather in the cap on their career.”
Mom and Dad never craved mega fandom. They had their hits, but their career was mostly about the music, and that meant being famous enough to have a fiercely loyal fan base that kept them comfortably compensated between record sales and shows, but not so famous they ever felt like their lives weren’t their own.
They were like sleeper musicians. Some fans had been there since I was a kid, while others were just finding them now, and it was building to a career affirming crescendo.
“I’m really happy for them.”
Scott turned, leaning against the counter. “You know I’ve been thinking about this. I think letting us all go our own ways turned out better for them than if we formed the Kaine Brothers Band like they wanted.”
“Oh yeah? How so?”
“Well I’m a movie star. I have my own fan base. And when they find out my parents are Paint the Wallflower Gold, they gain some new fans. Ben’s a TV star. And when his fans find out his parents are the singers behind that song their parents always danced to in the living room, they gain some new fans. And you’re a sports star…”
“I see what you mean. We’ve naturally helped them go viral.”
“Exactly.” When his paint was ready we finished grabbing a few more things for the house, then made our way over to Trent’s with wings from The Red Tourist Bar & Grille.
Trent rubbed his hands together and we unpacked the boxes in his kitchen. “Did you get Scorched Tourist Wings?”
“Of course.” I pushed the hottest wings on earth his way.
Scott frowned. “I feel the name of every dish at this restaurant is somehow offensive.”
Trent looked him straight in the eye. “That’s because they are. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re in Florida now. We do dumbassed shit and make fun of tourists to take away the pain. Eat.”
“I think the heat just gets to everyone’s heads,” I said, shoving a much milder Sweet Susie wing into my mouth.”
“The names might be offensive but the food is delicious,” Scott groaned as he licked his fingers.
“Here, try an onion ring.” Trent pushed one Scott’s way.
“Do they put fairy dust in these?” he asked incredulously. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything so flavorful and light, considering it’s basically fried batter.
Trent snorted. “They should name a new wing sauce after Chris. The Fried Batter.”
Scott thought that was hilarious and they traded jokes for the rest of lunch. Then we followed Trent out to his dock where he pointed out which boards needed replacing. With my brother’s help I was able to get it done in record time and still leave for the game without rushing, so I stopped at the grocer on the end of the island to grab a drink and snacks.
That’s when I ran into the Anderson sisters. Well, at least Berlin and Paris. “As I live and breathe!” Paris cried out. “The rumors are true!”
Half the store (which was a whopping five people) turned to see what the fuss was about. And even that little bit of attention was enough to make me blush. “Hey Paris.”
“Look at you.” She walked a circle around me while Berlin stood scowling like I’d kicked her cat.
“How are you?”
Berlin didn’t answer, but Paris stopped in front of me. “I’m fantastic. How are your brothers?”
“Good. Scott’s at the house and Ben will be around next week.”
“Really,” she drawled, throwing a look at her sister. “It’s too bad London isn’t here.”
I saw where this was going real fast. “It’s a damn shame. I’d love to see those two in a room together now.”
“You and me both,” Paris grinned. “Maybe we can figure something out one of these days. Accidentally on purpose get them in the same room and see what happens.”
I grabbed a bag of chips off the shelf behind her and winked. “I will happily be your co-conspirator. Just let me know when and where.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Then she scowled at her younger sister. Once upon a time Olivia and Berlin had been best friends. I wondered if the scowl currently trained on me was because they were still best friends and she didn’t like that Olivia and I were getting close. “What’s wrong with your face?”
Berlin finally tore her eyes away from glaring at me and instead glared at her sister. “There’s nothing wrong with my face.”
“Yes there is. It’s all scrunched up and angry. Is Ryker not good in bed? Are you orgasm-less?”
I thought for a split second Berlin might strangle her sister. Instead she hissed, “My sex life is great, thank you very much, and not up for discussion.”
“Then why are you scowling?” Paris refused to give up and I couldn’t figure out how to gracefully disappear.
Berlin waved at her sister. “Can you just go pickup the vegetables we need for dinner already and leave me alone? I bet Chris is off to Tampa anyway and here we are holding him hostage in our rinky dink small town grocery store.”
Paris mouthed I’m sorry with a shrug. “Fine. Meet you at the cash register. Nice seeing you, Chris!”
But Berlin didn’t budge. She waited until Paris was out of earshot before glancing at me, which is when I decided to cut her off at the pass.
“I like that Calusa Key is small and quiet. Why do you think I stopped here instead of Sarasota or St. Pete? I like that Kelly knows me at checkout and remembers that I always forget to get more butter. I can live anywhere. I want to live here.”
She kept that scowl on her face, but her eyes softened a little. “I don’t trust you or your money or your fame. Not for one second. The last thing Olivia needs is an egotistical athlete to woo her and then leave her when he decides fame and money are more exciting in the city.”
The shadow of Beau hung heavy, as I feared. “I understand your concerns. I have no intention of changing my personality any time soon.”
She blinked like I surprised her. “You hurt her and I’ll find a nice electrical storm to strand you in. You can’t get lucky twice.”
I shrugged. “It was a near miss.”
She leaned closer. “I’ll make sure it’s a direct hit next time.”
And while the banter was fun, it was also tedious and unnecessary. “Duly noted. Now if you don’t mind, I have puppies to murder and candy to poison.”
“Ha. Ha.” She stepped to the side, allowing me to fina
lly pass. “I mean it. You’re either in or out with Olivia. She’s not someone you can have fun with and forget.”
I turned to walk backward so I could see Berlin as I offered her this one last reassurance. “I’ve never forgotten her. And I never will.”
9
Sneaking out of my own damned house like a teenager
Olivia
I was in the middle of daydreaming about Chris teaching Linc how to throw a baseball. When he was done he stood up and winked at me. Then we lived happily ever after.
Yep. I had it bad.
In fact, I was fairly certain I had never had it this bad in my entire life. Not at seventeen when Drew Prescott asked me to prom. Not when Beau Rowland asked me out. Not ever. I wasn’t a happily ever after kind of girl. My parents fought constantly when I was young and had a messy, drama-filled divorce. I knew, first hand, that love could be as constructive as it could be destructive. I never fancied white wedding dresses or an ideal life. I assumed things would be rocky and that the best I could do for myself was to be content in the moment.
Chris Kaine must have some powerful male hormones to do a number like this on me.
“So what have I missed?” My younger sister Summer asked as she sat down across from me with a fresh iced tea.
“Not much. Having Beau closer is so nice for Linc. We’ve had a great summer but I’m more than ready for him to get back to school.”
Summer looked a lot like my twin, but three years younger. Her hair was also dark and long, her skin was ever so slightly more copper than mine, and her brown eyes were also slightly more coppery. Other than that, people used to assume we were twins.
“I feel a disturbance in the force.”
