by Jennifer Ann
“You alright?” he asks, studying me with a cocked eyebrow. He’s handsome enough and his bright green eyes are difficult to look away from, but I can’t get past his foul odor or the plethora of tattoos marring his massive body. He’s more Evelyn’s type—rough around the edges and a bit frightening. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s served time for misdemeanor crimes. “I can run inside and grab you a towel.”
“No need,” I say, waving him off. “I’ll change once I’m situated in my room.” When I reach for my wallet to tip him, the man holds his hands upright and backs away.
“Not necessary. Charlie told me you’re family, which means your ride was covered in my generous salary.” His thick lips curve with a dimpled grin and he motions toward the house with a tilt of his head. “Go ahead. I’ll bring your luggage.”
Though his flirting is innocent, I’m unable to smile in return. I have yet to meet a man that I can be myself around or grant my complete trust. And besides, I’ve invested too much into my future as a cut-throat attorney to let some bodybuilder with a cute smile make me lose my concentration. “Thank you.”
I turn away from him, basking in the warm sun on my face and inhaling the salty sea air. The heat isn’t nearly as intolerable as Texas in the summertime, and I’m looking forward to getting a little color on the beach while here. It’s the only thing that could make this little family reunion bearable.
Jealousy stirs through me with the impressive sight of Evelyn and Charlie’s shingle-style vacation home. My eyes greedily drink in the beautiful woodwork moldings, transom windows, gambrel roof, turrets, and brown shingles used as siding. Despite its light warmth and weather-beaten appearance that would attempt to make you believe it’s humble, I’m sure that between its square footage and the prime beach-side location, the estimated value is more than I’ll earn in a lifetime of representing even the wealthiest of clients. Even without having stepped foot inside, I can say with confidence that my friends in Dallas would simply die for a place of this caliber.
Evelyn regards Charlie’s fame with insignificance, and the abbreviated amounts of time I’ve been around them it would seem they’re incapable of keeping their paws off each other, but seriously. The fact that he’s America’s most beloved rockstar and easily worth a quarter of a billion dollars must’ve played some part in the attraction. Although I don’t know my sister as well as a sibling should, I’d be willing to bet my prized Louis Vuitton handbag that money played some factor in her agreement to marry a mere stranger at such a young age. Don’t get me started on that “love at first sight” bullshit because that’s reserved for tacky chick-flicks and those cheap romance novels they sell at grocery stores.
I’m busy appreciating the ornate landscaping as I climb the front steps and fail to notice someone coming out the door until the thick wood collides with my backside. A squeak flies from my mouth as I’m knocked over, landing head-first in a flowering bush, bare feet in the air. Ouch. As I’m struggling to escape the prison of greenery, a hand locks around one of my wrists and pulls me upright as if I’m made of air. Blushing, I glance down as I straighten my skirt, happy to see my arms are somehow scratch-free. Then I look up.
All at once I’m facing a man so stunning that, despite being the former captain of the University’s debate team, I’m rendered speechless. Fuck me. I’ve always had a weakness for men with well-groomed beards and thick eyebrows. With dark eyes, dark wavy hair, sharp features, and an olive-hued complexion, I’d guess he’s of Greek decent. Not only that, but he’s built like someone who treats his body like a temple and spends a fair amount of time in the gym. The best part? He looks to be somewhere in his mid to late twenties. Right around my age.
From his designer button-down rolled at the sleeves, I can’t help wondering if he’s a successful businessman of some kind who doesn’t know how to completely let loose. Broad shoulders set, square chin high, ridiculously muscular chest puffed out just slightly—I would venture to guess he’s in control of every aspect of his life and isn’t afraid of anything or anyone. A warm spasm licks between my legs with the imagery of him dominating me in the bedroom.
Pulling my shoulders back, I press my lips together and meet his alluring, russet-colored eyes. They’re lit with humor as he struggles to hold back a smile. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see you coming. Are you okay?”
Guys like him are inevitably smooth talkers, able to negotiate their way inside a woman’s panties with a mere wink or a smile. It’s the reason I’ve always stuck to the intellectual, homely type. They’re a safe bet and no-nonsense, providing minimal conflict in my life. I’m not letting this cocky son of a bitch get to me.
“My pride’s a little bruised, but I think I’ll live,” I reply. When he chuckles inside his hand, I narrow my eyes. Even if he is hotter than Hades, I’m infuriated that he’s humored at my expense. “Could you maybe not laugh? I’ve had a crappy day and you’re not making it any better.”
Shaking his head, his smile grows. “Sorry, it’s just…” He reaches above my head. From the corner of my eye I catch sight of a silver Rolex on his wrist. Hot and loaded. I freeze as his hand plucks something from my hair. A second later he produces a cluster of shrubbery. “Just as I suspected, you’re even more beautiful without this in your hair.”
Face warm with the compliment, I push a stray strand of golden hair behind my ear. “Oh.”
All at once Charlie’s driver joins us with my luggage in tow. “Hey, Nolan,” he greets the playboy, grinning. When they bump fists, I hold back an eye-roll. They’re both so infuriatingly macho, they may as well be crossing dicks in a show of their manhood.
“Can you show me to my room now?” I ask the driver, pinning my arms tight against my stomach.
“I can take her,” Nolan offers, taking my luggage away from the man. “Charlie sent me out here to find you, Dante. He wants you to make a run for more ice.”
“I’m on it,” Dante answers with a tip of his chin. Predictably, he throws me a flirty wink. “Good meeting you, Sofia. Go inside and take a shot to unwind. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Not happening,” I snap, unable to keep paranoia from rearing its ugly head. Is he suggesting I “unwind” so I’m more vulnerable to his advances? Realizing I came off as crass, I recover with, “I mean, shooting alcohol isn’t my thing.”
“Okay then.” He exchanges an unsure glance with Nolan before retreating. Once he’s gone, Nolan faces me once again, one of his eyebrows lifted. The combined raspberry and leather scent of his cologne tickles my nose, smelling an awful lot like Tom Ford. Classy bastard.
“So you’re Evelyn’s sister. I’m sorry about your father.”
I nod once, having no idea what else to say. “Any of my other siblings here yet?”
“Just James.”
“Lucky you.”
Nolan shrugs. “He seems like a good guy.”
“He can be,” I mutter to myself as he starts for the house, pulling my suitcase with one hand and lugging my carry-on with the other. I debated for the better part of a week whether or not I wanted to accept Evelyn’s invitation. Being around James all weekend is going to bring back too many memories.
I sigh deeply when stepping inside my sister’s “play house.” It’s even more impressive than the outside, possessing the perfect decor and furniture combination for a relaxing retreat that includes the salty smell of the ocean and the distant roar of waves.
Inside a state-of-the-art kitchen there’s a spectacular display of food and beverages complete with red, white, and blue orchids expertly arranged atop the white linens. Several cute, young caterers mill about, one of them flashing a polite smile when I meet his gaze. They’re so good-looking that I half expect them to strip down to g-strings later in the evening.
Where did that come from? Oh yeah, that’s right. The need to get laid.
Beyond a wall of sliding glass doors that are wide open for the occasion, dozens of people mingle as Charlie and his b
andmates assemble their instruments on a make-shift stage. Just as I catch sight of my youngest sister with her British friend, both of them appearing so happy and carefree that it make me envious, Nolan hands me a flute of champagne.
“You’re the one who went to law school in Texas, right?” he asks.
“Yessir,” I answer, unsure if the southern drawl that comes out was intended or accidental.
“You should consider relocating to Manhattan after graduation. I have a long list of friends who could use a good attorney. Myself included.”
“How do you know I’m any good?” I look at him from behind the glass before taking a drink. My stomach instantly burns when the light bubbles slip down my throat, adding to the warm burn Nolan has already started. “I haven’t even taken the bar.”
“You’re from the Midwest and you’re Ev’s sister. What else do I need to know?” A sexy as hell smirk tilts his beautiful lips as he waits for me to deny it’s true.
“If we’re making assumptions, then I would guess you spend your days chasing bunnies around your ranch.”
A deep, rolling laugh falls from his lips. “Not even close. I own the bar in Brooklyn Heights where your sister once waitressed.”
He must be the classiest bar owner in the city. Before I can interrogate him any more, my little sister steps inside the house, her dark eyes wide and a bright smile pulling at her lips. She’s changed in the short time since Dad’s funeral, appearing more sophisticated in a well-coordinated outfit of dark blue Daisy Duke shorts, a bright red tank top, dark hair pulled back with a white bandanna.
“Sof!” She runs to me and flings her arms around my shoulders, almost knocking me over in surprise. When did she get so physical? “I’m so glad you’re here! The others should be here any minute. I can’t wait to have the whole family together again!”
“You must be deep into the booze already,” I comment with a stuttering laugh. Though she doesn’t appear drunk, I can’t explain her perky mood unless, of course, it’s because she’s in stupid love with her husband. Ugh. The idea makes my eyes yearn to roll to the back of my head.
“Says the girl with a drink in hand,” she retorts playfully. Then her eyes catch on my skirt and luggage. “Let’s get you settled in your room. I have some stain remover you can use.”
“I’ll bring her luggage,” Nolan offers, setting his glass down to lug my things.
“Thanks,” Evelyn tells him, turning to wiggle her eyebrows my way. When we start off down a long hallway, she whispers, “You two seem to be getting along well.”
I ignore her comment, unwilling to admit he’s working his way under my skin in a favorable way. I simply need to remind myself that I’m only in town for a few days and my hectic life doesn’t allow for a meaningless fling. Evelyn leads me inside a small bedroom that’s charming as hell. White walls, white ceiling fan, dark wooden floor, blue Persian rug, antique armoire, and a 4-poster iron bed with white curtains make it a serious contender for the most tastefully decorated bedroom I’ve ever stepped foot inside. As much as I want to ask who’s responsible for the beautiful design, I’m too jealous to utter a word.
“Sorry we don’t have enough beds for everyone to get their own,” Evelyn tells me, crossing the room to open a set of French doors. “You’re sharing with Angie. At least you two will have your own private backyard to hang out in if the madness gets to be too much in the next few days.”
Nolan passes me to set my luggage on the white comforter. “I’ll let you two catch up.” Then he spins around to give me a dimpled grin. “I’ll save you a spot up front by the band.”
Heat spreads through my cheeks when he walks out.
“Oooh, I think someone has caught Nolan’s attention,” Evelyn sings, flopping down next to my luggage. The doe-eyed look she gives me gets on my nerves.
Huffing, I cross the room to the bed and tug at my suitcase zipper. “Not interested in a player like him.”
“You’d be surprised. He’s super sweet, Sof, and he, like, never dates. You should give him some serious consideration.”
“And what?” I snap, rifling through my clothes. “Start a relationship over Skype?” It hadn’t occurred to me that I should pack anything remotely sexy. Every item of clothing I consider is boring and safe.
When I look up at Evelyn, her eyes are narrowed and her arms are crossed. “I thought you weren’t sure where you wanted to work after graduation. I’m sure New York offers loads of opportunities for lawyers.”
“First you move way the hell out here and now I’m hearing James isn’t going back home either. You expect me to drink the Kool-Aid next? I don’t know what’s so exciting about New York. It’s filthy and packed with criminals.” I shimmy out of my skirt and step into a pair of linen shorts good for making my legs appear extra long and lean. “Besides, I don’t think I could stand being that close to James again.”
“He’s not so bad,” she scolds, picking through my suitcase. “He’s changed somewhat since he decided to stay. Sharlo has a way of bringing out the best of him. He’s not as cranky all the time.” She hands me a one-shouldered shirt made of a pale pink, buttery satin, gifted to me by a good friend whose daddy struck it big in oil. “Shit, Sof. Hermes? How do you afford this stuff? I should send some of my designs back with you to Texas. You’d be a great advertisement for our clothing line even if it’s not really your style. You have the perfect body.”
“You’ve got the wrong sister,” I mumble, snatching the shirt back and setting it in the suitcase. I’d never admit to anyone that my well-off friends sell me their designer clothes for a steal. “Fake it until you make it” has been my motto for as long as I can remember. “Modeling is Angie’s thing. I couldn’t handle the unwanted attention.”
Evelyn pops to her feet, snorting. “Like men don’t look at you anyway? You’re a knock out and you’re crazy smart. I don’t know why you’re so dead set against dating.”
“Because men aren’t a priority in my life.” Raising my eyebrows, I give her a hard stare. “I’m perfectly capable of providing for myself. Not every woman feels the need to find a rich hottie to take care of her.”
“You think that’s why I married Charlie?” she asks in a sharp tone. “You obviously know nothing about me. I don’t buy Hermes or spend ridiculous amounts of money on any material things, and neither does my husband.” Shaking her head back and forth, her eyes begin to water over. “Why has it always felt like you hate all of us? I haven’t done anything to you, but I know James can be an overly possessive jerk sometimes. It just seems you go out of your way to avoid him and treat him like shit.”
“I don’t hate him!” I snap back.
Tears begin to spill down her cheeks when she asks, “Then what did we ever do to make you want to move as far from home as possible?”
“It’s complicated,” I say quietly, swiping away my own leak of tears.
“In case you haven’t noticed, this family is getting smaller by the minute. We need each other, Sof. James needs us. I can’t even begin to imagine what it did to his head when he found Dad. He could really use our support, regardless of what mistakes he made in the past.” She starts for the door, pausing to look over her shoulder. “Do me a favor and at least try to come down off your high horse while you’re here. I miss the big sister that would get down on the floor and play Barbies with me for hours, or take me to the pool in town and out for ice cream afterwards. She had a big heart and actually wanted to hang out with me.”
When she’s out of sight, the dreaded memory from my junior year of high school—the one I’ve done everything to forget—returns in a blinding rage.
Ready to throw up, I collect my things and begin to repack.
Being around my siblings always makes everything worse.
Chapter 19
SHARLO
Declaring myself “ecstatically happy” doesn’t do the radiant feeling in my belly proper justice as I prepare for Evelyn and Charlie’s 4th of July celebration. Afte
r telling them about the baby, James and I agreed to keep the news from the rest of his family until they’ve had a chance to acclimate to the idea that I’m more than Evelyn’s good friend.
We were also agreeable to coming up to the Hamptons a few days earlier than his family in order to avoid the expense of the hotel in downtown Brooklyn where we’ve been staying since his return. We claimed one of the beach house’s posh rooms by making love in the bed so many times that it’s a bit of an oddity to be fully dressed and standing upright.
Charlie and Evelyn were the first to arrive, each of them rattling off about the party. Lorenzo and Dante were next, setting up a small stage in the back yard. Neither seemed all that surprised to learn James and I were officially an item, though Lorenzo held his hands over his heart and made a comment about “all the good ones being taken.” I assured him that James was never into him anyway.
Nolan came soon after in a van filled with cases of alcohol that took the men the better part of an hour to transport inside. Katie, her teenage sons, and her mum weren’t far behind, arriving in time to instruct the caterers and wait staff of their duties.
The morning flew by as I helped Evelyn prepare for the gathering, decorating and ensuring everything was in order. It’s late afternoon by the time we’re in the master suite, primping for the party in designs Katie and I specifically created for the occasion. After I’ve curled the last of Evelyn’s dark locks, I secure her hair with a white headband. The entire time she gives me this wide-eyed stare and knowing grin. It’s maddening.
“Are you going to share what’s on your mind,” I ask, “or do I have to beat it out of you with that leather crop I just spotted in your closet?”
When her face becomes scarlet red, I cheer silently to myself. At least she finally stopped staring at me like a nutter. “I can’t believe I left that out,” she mumbles.
