by Diana Seere
“I was trying to get away from him,” Jess said.
“Has he forced himself on you?” Marilyn asked in alarm.
“No, no,” Jess said quickly. “Not the way you mean. I-I- was willing enough. But this morning, after what happened last night, I told him we had to cool it. But then he was there in the sauna.”
“What were you doing in the sauna wearing a bikini at five in the morning?” Marilyn asked.
“Trying to warm up.”
Marilyn shook her head. “But then you jumped in a frozen lake.”
“Well, Derry was in the sauna. He surprised me. So I had to leave.”
Lilah let out a loud sigh. “Jess, why didn’t you just go to your room?” Lifting her hand to her head, she tugged at her hair in big clumps the way she did under stress.
“I-I—” What could she say? That she’d been burning with lust because Derry had started an exhibitionist sex show and, under the circumstances, the lake had seemed like the best option at the time? “I wish I had,” she said finally. “I’m sorry, Lilah. It’s your wedding, and—”
“At least you were wearing a swimsuit,” Lilah said. “And you guys weren’t actually, you know, going at it.”
“Oh, Lilah, please,” Marilyn said, sitting up straighter, the prim Puritan that she was. “Let’s get the story straight. Jess, you entered the sauna, not knowing Gavin’s brother was already sitting there in his birthday suit, and you were so traumatized to be alone with him, you fled, not knowing where you were going, out of your head, and ended up in the lake. Fearing for your life, and perhaps your sanity, he risked his own modesty by jumping in and rescuing you.”
Lilah snorted at the word “modesty,” then caught Jess’s glare and covered her mouth.
“Thanks, Mom,” Jess said. “That’s exactly how it went.”
“Oh, you’re not fooling me. I’m just giving you ideas about what you can tell everyone else,” Marilyn said. “Don’t think for a minute that I don’t know you’ve been very naughty.”
If only she knew. Jess lifted the mug to her lips to hide her involuntary smile.
“And I wouldn’t blame Lilah one second for being angry with you,” Marilyn added. “It’s her special day.”
“Oh, it’s all right,” Lilah said. “As long as this is the end of it.”
Jess slammed the mug on the table. “Now hold on one minute. You don’t have any right to tell me to end anything.”
“You really can’t control yourself for two more days?” Lilah asked.
“Oh.” Jess sank back into her chair. “I thought you meant ever. Of course I can control myself for a couple days. Here. And there. Anywhere. I’m like that green eggs and ham guy.”
“Except in reverse, since you seem to be jumping him all over the place,” Lilah said. “I’m going to start calling you Sam-I-am.”
In spite of her shame, Jess laughed.
Marilyn frowned at her. “You know what I think?”
Jess’s humor vanished. She could imagine what her mother thought of her right now. Virgin to slut in sixty seconds.
Lilah stood up and cleared the cups away. “You know, Mom, I think Jess would love to rest in her room for the rest of the morning. The rehearsal’s this afternoon and—”
“Let me tell you what I think, and then you can run away,” Marilyn said.
Giving Jess a sympathetic smile, Lilah sat back down. Jess’s heart squeezed, grateful to have such a wonderful sister.
Marilyn crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin the way she did when she was going to begin a lecture. “Lilah is marrying a very rich, very handsome man. Gavin is like a prince in a fairy tale, and Lilah’s the princess.” She gestured broadly, as if encompassing the cabin, the house, the lake, the private jet, everything. “The beautiful people have come to watch and celebrate the biggest wedding of the year. No expense has been spared, and everyone will be looking at Lilah, wondering what she’s got that caught the most famous bachelor in the world.”
“He is not famous,” Lilah said, laughing. “He’s always been careful to avoid publicity.”
“He would be if people knew more about him,” Marilyn said.
“All right, Mom,” Jess said, “what’s your point?”
Marilyn sucked in a breath and went in for the kill. “It can’t be easy to have your older sister at the center of all that attention,” she said, “when you’re not.”
Jess recoiled in genuine shock. “No, that’s not true. This has nothing to do with me being… jealous.”
“Mom, I’m sure that’s not why Jess—did what she did.” Lilah leaned closer to Jess and muttered, “Repeatedly.”
“I’m just telling it how I see it.” Marilyn looked away, chin in the air. “I hope I’m wrong.”
“You are wrong,” Jess said, standing up. “Gavin’s a nice guy, I suppose, but I wouldn’t want to marry him in a million years.”
“But maybe you like the idea of everything he’s got, and why not try his younger brother?” her mother asked.
“I can’t believe you think I’m… such a…” Jess couldn’t use the word she wanted in front of her mother. “I like Derry. Not his money, not his connections. I think he’s really gentle and sweet and smart, under all the stupid he lays on so thick, and he’s been nicer to me than any guy I’ve ever—I’ve ever—” She had to stop talking before she started to cry. Blinking hard, she turned away and strode to the door. How could her own mother understand her so poorly? Attention was the last thing she’d ever wanted.
She yanked the door open and hurried away from her mother’s cabin, not caring that the sleet had turned to snow or that the dusting on the lawn was rather lovely.
Her own mother…
“Jess! Wait!” Lilah was running up behind her.
Given what Jess had put her through, she stopped and waited for her to catch up. But her temper was still flying too high to speak.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Lilah said. “She doesn’t know how you feel.”
“How I feel?”
Lilah gave her a knowing look.
“Why don’t you go back to Gavin?” Jess said. “Have breakfast in bed, whatever. I’m going to lock myself in my room and stay there.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No, please. I—” Jess began.
“Just for a few minutes. Then you can hibernate.” Lilah’s eyes widened. “I mean sleep. Rest. Prepare yourself for later.”
Jess had to laugh. It was too crazy. They were making bear jokes. “I knew what you meant. Sure, if it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’ll have some fresh croissants sent to us. I’m starving.”
Jess’s appetite should’ve been nonexistent, but the thought of pastry made her stomach growl. “Whatever makes you happy. I owe you.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were curled up on Jess’s big bed with almond and chocolate croissants and a fresh pot of coffee on a silver tray.
“When did you first think you were in love with him?” Lilah asked abruptly.
After groaning at the trap she’d fallen into, Jess carefully put her cup down and buried her face in a pillow.
Lilah put her hand on her back. “Or maybe you haven’t admitted it to yourself?”
Face submerged in down, Jess shook her head.
After a long moment, Lilah patted her on the shoulder. “You know why I’m concerned?”
Of course Jess knew. With a sigh, she sat up. “Don’t worry. I know it can’t last.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Jess said. She did. Of course she did. This was Derry Stanton. “That’s why I’m binging on him.”
“Like eating an entire pizza before going on a diet?”
Jess nodded. “Except he’s much more than a pizza. Hell, if that’s all he was, I’d be fine. But he’s more like tiramisu and truffles and a Costco-sized jar of Nutella.”
“I wish you’d met Edward first,” Lilah said wistfully.
“It’
s not like I needed one of Gavin’s brothers to have sex with.”
“I know, I know, but Edward’s like you, well, like you used to be, and he’s so sweet and really good-looking, and—”
“What do you mean, like I used to be?”
“I shouldn’t say.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “But I guess I already did. He’s, you know, celibate. By choice, the way you were.”
“Really? Edward’s celibate. Why?”
Lilah looked uncomfortable. “Uh… not sure. Something that happened a long time ago. Gavin wouldn’t tell me. I don’t think he could’ve ever had much experience with women though. He’s the youngest in the family.”
“You thought the nun and the priest should hook up,” Jess said.
“It crossed my mind.”
“The blind leading the blind.”
“It would be sweet,” Lilah said.
“Would’ve been. I’m not blind anymore.” Flushing to the tips of her toes, Jess remembered a particularly educational moment with Derry. That crazy pinkie finger.
“Yeah, too late now,” Lilah said. “Derry would never allow it.”
“Excuse me? Derry’s not the boss of me,” Jess said.
“But he’s the boss of Edward,” Lilah said. “They’ve got a very clear pecking order, these brothers. Asher, Gavin, Derry, Edward. That’s how they see themselves, that’s how they behave. If Derry wouldn’t want you to sleep with Edward—and I think it’s pretty obvious he’d rather cut off his own penis—Edward will stay far away from you. No matter how desperately he wants you.”
“Edward wants me?” Jess asked, shocked. Had he wanted her before seeing her humping Derry in the Rolls?
“Theoretically,” Lilah said.
“Oh. Meaning he doesn’t.”
“But he would have, I’m sure of it, if you hadn’t gotten mixed up with Derry first.” Holding her coffee, Lilah climbed off the bed. “I should go, let you rest. I’ll see you at—”
“Just for the record, I didn’t admit to that thing you said.”
“Sure.” Lilah drained her cup and set it on the tray. “Should I have them send more croissants?”
“You don’t believe me.”
Lilah paused for a moment, then sat on the edge of the bed again and gave her a serious look. “I’m going to tell you something I wasn’t going to tell you, at least not yet. But it might help you.”
A chill ran down Jess’s spine. “What?”
“If Derry were the One for you, you’d know.” Lilah fell silent as if this explained everything. Her expression was pitying.
In spite of the way her own heart was pounding, Jess rolled her eyes. “Great. Thanks for the tip.”
“And if you were the One for Derry, he would know,” Lilah continued.
“Then I won’t hold my breath, since Derry is famous for his four-ways, not his one-ways.” Jess tried to keep her voice light, but she felt sick.
Lilah stood up. “Exactly. That’s why I’m so worried about you.”
Chapter 19
“Do you mind? You’re holding me closer than a Bangkok hooker trying to convince a client to buy her for a twenty-four-hour whirl.”
“You would know,” Gavin muttered.
“For the record, I’ve never paid for sex,” Derry answered airily, pulling out his Oscar Wilde voice, the touch of condescension and devil-may-care easy to access.
Too easy.
The sound that Gavin made was decidedly contrary.
Derry didn’t appreciate having his arm twisting behind him but let Gavin do it for the sake of decorum. It gave him an excuse to escape the mortifying scene back there. He turned to catch Jess’s eye, but she avoided him.
I’m sorry.
Me too.
The words floated through his mind, then disappeared like a swarm that comes together for a brief moment from instinct, parting for no reason at all.
Derry shut his mouth until he found himself in the sauna again, tossed against the bench by his wolf brother, who exhibited a surprising level of strength for such a weak species. They weren’t adolescents any longer, though. Both knew who had the upper hand when it came to sheer physical power.
And the near shift back there rested just under Derry’s skin, waiting to be unleashed when safe.
Safe.
Whatever that meant.
“Spit it out,” Gavin demanded, hands on hips, chest wide, shoulders braced for a fight. The room held a small bit of steam that cleared fairly quickly, yet Gavin’s eyes glowed through the obscurity.
“Spit what out?”
“Why you’re doing this.”
“Why I’m doing what?”
“Why you’re fucking Lilah’s sister.”
Derry’s laugh built in his throat as he stretched himself out on the cedar planks that made up the sauna’s bench. Taking his time, he positioned his body in the most relaxed pose possible, knees up, balls resting gently on the wood. He was far too tall to truly stretch out, and besides, he needed the time to think.
How in the hell could he rationally explain what he’d just done with—no, to—Jess?
Perhaps that was the problem.
There was no rational explanation.
What he felt was entirely, irrevocably, unbelievably and painfully irrational.
It was love.
His skin melted into the cedar, eyes open and drying out, the revelation like being set on fire. When he’d seen Jess and Lilah’s mother, he’d thought of her as his own mother-in-law. Not Gavin’s. When Jess had needed to be protected from Edward’s roving eyes, he’d curled himself into a ball to shield her.
When she’d humiliated him at the club, he’d pursued her. When he’d taken her virginity—freely, and lusciously offered—he’d accepted the gift not as a present but as an exchange. A power distribution between equals.
Here, she’d seemed to say. Please have this. And in return, all I ask is that you give me your heart right back.
By God.
He had. Forever.
The room began to spin, the heat overpowering.
“Derry,” Gavin said, his voice carrying the implied requirement of an answer.
Before he slipped into unconsciousness, Derry stood, shoving past Gavin, who had tried to block the door. The force of Derry’s push made Gavin slam into the wall, but Derry ignored his indignant shouts. Running, taking on speed, the shock of frigid air snapped him back into his own mind.
It was torture.
Footsteps, far too swift to be mere human, caught up from behind.
“This is one hell of a way to show your jealousy, Derry,” Gavin said, not at all winded as he ran beside him. Derry sprinted for his cottage, knowing the grounds so well that he zigged and zagged past bushes and trees, stone retainer walls and side stairs, until he opened the slider to his courtyard and darted into the house.
Gavin followed.
“So you admit it,” Gavin said casually, as if they hadn’t just spent ninety seconds sprinting faster than most Olympians.
“Silence does not equal agreement,” Derry countered.
“But your lack of denial does.”
Fuck.
“I’m not jealous,” Derry groaned, walking past Gavin, who shoved him in retaliation for Derry’s earlier push. Ignoring the immature move with but an eye roll, Derry walked into his bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower.
“I’m not leaving!” Gavin called out as Derry stepped into the glass and stone enclosure, his showerheads aimed perfectly for his height and build. “I’m making coffee!”
Derry looked out the tiny bathroom window at the low sun over the mountains.
Still morning.
Already his day had gone to shit, and noon was hours away.
As he soaped himself, he inevitably stroked his cock, which stirred at the display of basic biology. Touch that skin, and blood flowed forth. Stroke it a few times, and semen spurted. Ignore it long enough, and blue balls developed.
And, Derry supposed
, as he rinsed off, choosing not to relieve the agony building up within, the same formula could be applied to human behavior.
It seemed so simple to Gavin. He was getting married, and Derry was jealous, so his manwhore brother was targeting the sweet, weak little gazelle sister of the bride.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
A barking laugh poured out of Derry, short and bitter.
The truth was so unbelievable that Gavin would never accept it.
And why should he?
Derry threw on business casual pants, a turtleneck, and a V-neck cashmere sweater in a heather gray that Sophia had once told him showcased his blue eyes. As he rounded the corner between the hallway and his kitchen, Gavin sat at the countertop, on a high stool, sipping freshly brewed coffee as if they were meeting for book club and not in verbal battle.
“I’m not jealous,” Derry said simply.
“Then what are you?”
“In love.”
Gavin’s howl of laughter made his hand twitch, coffee sloshing all over the granite countertop. “You asshole. Quit stalling. You need to come up with some excuse better than that to explain why you’ve been all over her for the past few days, now of all times, my wedding, so provocatively inconsiderate and improper…” Gavin’s words slowed, like a child’s spinning top losing its coiled power, and his brow turned down.
Gavin looked at him and sniffed. Over and over until the laughter drained entirely from his throat, his glowing eyes filled with a disastrous sense of horror that made Derry’s oversized testicles crawl up into his groin.
“You—Derry! You don’t smell at all like yourself!”
He let out a chuckle of relief. Oh. That.
“I smell like English lavender, don’t I? The maid appears to have filled my cottage with nothing but Father’s old soap.”
“You know exactly what I mean. My powers of scent might be less than yours, but you smell like you and Jessica. And no other woman.” Gavin’s voice dropped half an octave with each word of that final sentence, his head tilting, face twisting into a befuddled look that would have made him look like an old archivist at Derry’s alma mater if only his brother were one hundred fifty years older and wore spectacles.
