All I Desire (Paradise Beach Book 4)

by Tamara Lush

  Matthew opens a solid, wooden door—why does everything have wrought iron accents, like we’re going into a medieval dungeon—and I pull him inside. I fall against the door and heave out a breath, then shut my eyes.

  Matthew rakes his fingers through his black hair. “Babe, what was all that back there? Your skin turned the color of skim milk. What’s wrong?”

  “Your brother,” I say.

  “Half-brother,” he corrects.

  “Whatever. He’s the guy I dated in high school. The one who…” I shudder in a breath and open my eyes.

  “The one who was awful to you.”

  I nod, meeting his gaze. “It goes beyond that, though. I never really told you the full story.”

  Matthew swallows a few times, like he’s about to vomit.

  “And awful? That doesn’t even begin to describe what he did to me. I was so paranoid about horrible men that I studied martial arts for years.” I let out a cynical laugh. “Did you know that? That I’m a black belt in kendo and karate? I guess I never told you. Sorry. I learned it all so that I’d never be in a vulnerable position again. But here we are.”

  Matthew’s face crumples. He presses his hand to his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  I’m suddenly self-conscious, as if this was all my fault. I turn toward the door. Matthew’s going to side with his family. Of course, he is. Why would he even believe me on this?

  “No.” He touches my elbow. Not in a threatening way, just his fingertips. There’s a gentle pause that makes me shudder with emotion and sadness. Just when I’d found someone perfect, my past comes raging back to screw up my life.

  Again.

  I turn to look at him, tears welling in my eyes. “You probably would like me to leave. So, I’ll go. It’s better this way.”

  “If you want to leave, I’ll understand and respect that. But do I want you to leave? No, I don’t.”

  My breath’s coming in hiccups now. “I should’ve asked, when you said your mother lived here before. Should’ve asked more about your family.”

  “Oh, babe, no.” He opens his arms and I fall into them. “No. How would you have known? If anything, I should’ve asked.”

  He holds me for several long minutes, then I break away to grab a tissue. “How close are you two?”

  “Not at all close. I told you, my mother left when I was young, and Hailey and I stayed with our father. My mom started a new family with my stepdad. Chad was their only son, and I didn’t even meet him until he was five. And only saw him sporadically. I didn’t know he went to school here, ever. He bounced around and went to a few different schools because he was such a little shit. I didn’t realize he was an abusive shit, too.” Matthew shoves his hair back with one hand, then the other.

  “So, you believe me?”

  Matthew cups my face gently. “Of course, I believe you.”

  The way his tone is laced with pain and compassion makes the tears leak out of my eyes all over again.

  “Dammit,” I whisper. “I didn’t want to cry.”

  “It’s okay to cry.”

  I sip in a few more breaths, then turn to the sink. The faucet is ornate and gold toned, and I grimace. “This house creeps me out.”

  “Same.”

  The cool water feels soothing on my face, and Matthew hands me a towel from a rack.

  As I’m patting my skin—so much for the cute lip gloss—he clears his throat.

  “How ‘bout I bring you home? I’ll tell my mother that you weren’t feeling well.”

  I set the towel on the counter. Chloe’s eager, little face flashes in my brain.

  “No. I’m going to stay. I’m going to be an adult about this.”

  After I dry my tears, take a few breaths, and give Matthew another long hug, we emerge into an empty wing of the ridiculous mansion.

  “They must be by the pool,” he says.

  “Pool it is then.” I try to keep my voice cheerful. Hearty. Brave.

  Outside, I spot Chad’s mom—Matthew’s mom— right away. She has Matthew’s raven-dark hair and looks like a larger, campier version of Sophia Loren. She doesn’t sit up from her lounger as we approach, nor does she take off her sunglasses. My stomach twists at the sight of her. And at the memory of how nasty she’d been when I went to court for the restraining order.

  “Mother, this is my friend that I was telling you about. Natalia Hastings. She runs the Paradise Beach resort.” Matthew says my name pointedly, as if trying to jog her memory. I wonder if he’s attempting to piece together the timeline of my relationship with his half-brother. Surely, he doesn’t know that his parents completely ignored my parents’ plea for their so to stay away from me.

  “Hello, Mrs. Richman.” I don’t even pretend that I’m happy to see her, because from the sour look on her face, I know this will be a shit show from the word go. After all, my family and I had the temerity to call the police on her baby boy.

  “Weren’t you the girl who chased after Chad back when he was, what, sixteen? Seventeen? Matthew, why are you just telling me her name now?” She shoots a glare at her son, and I hate her even more.

  I stare at her, expressionless, unblinking. “If by chasing after, you mean bullied by, stalked by, and coerced into an abusive relationship with, then, yes.”

  Damn that feels good to say out loud. Mrs. Richman’s nostrils flare.

  “She sure was,” Chad replies. Jesus Christ. It’s as if he’s acknowledging all the hell he put me through. Celebrating it, even. Matthew fixes a glare on him.

  My eyes go to a knife near a watermelon on a table. Suppressing my murderous rage is going to be key to my future relationship with Matthew. Okay, and my future as a free woman, period.

  “How is the resort doing? God knows it was a bit threadbare all those years ago. We just started coming back here now that Matthew’s relocated to the island.”

  Probably because I only met Mrs. Richman a few times as a teen, I never noticed that she had the same annoying, arrogant tone as her younger son. Or he got it from her.

  “It’s doing well,” I say curtly.

  “Well, that’s nice. I feel like Paradise Beach has gone downhill a bit. Don’t you think, Chad? It’s so… I don’t know.” She waves her hand in the air, gold bangle bracelets clinking. She’s wearing some sort of muumuu that has a similar pattern to my dress. Probably the same designer. Which makes me want to claw off my clothes.

  “So… what?” I ask in an icy tone.

  “So bohemian. It used to be far more exclusive. Now it’s alternative. We even saw some darker-skinned people here with drums the other night.”

  The bitch is too polite to actually utter a racial slur, but I understand her subtext all the same.

  “That’s the weekly drum circle, sponsored by the head of the Chamber of Commerce,” I say in a tight voice. “He’s African American.”

  She rolls her eyes. “It’s no Palm Beach, that’s for sure.”

  “Mother,” Matthew warns. “We talked about this kind of dialogue. I don’t want it around Chloe.”

  She snorts and takes a sip of her drink.

  Matthew, God love his perfect manners, jumps in to talk about the day we met on the photo shoot, a hint of displeasure in his voice aimed at his mother. (At least I hope it’s aimed at her.)

  As I stand there politely, I’m thinking about the restraining order I got against Chad and wondering if it’s still is in effect. Probably not, since it was fifteen years ago.

  “Are you planning on staying long?” I blurt at Mrs. Richman, then I sneer at Chad.

  “Oh, no,” she says. “Just the week, here at this lovely house.”

  “Nah,” Chad says, cracking open a beer. “I’m here for a couple of days, then back to the city. I’m a hedge fund manager, you know. Or maybe you didn’t.” He smirks again and I want to smack him.

  Of course, he’s a hedge fund guy on Wall Street. I’d bet good money he’s running some kind of Ponzi scheme or mortgage fraud ring.
>
  Mrs. Richman tilts her head. She’s still lounging on the chaise as if she’s an old Hollywood star. “Natalie.”

  I hate when people call me Natalie. I slide on my sunglasses because I don’t want them to see any of my emotions.

  “Natalie, you still look the same as when you were in high school. Interesting. Not beautiful, but interesting-looking.”

  Chad chortles. I refrain from punching Mrs. Richman in the face. When I was younger and with Chad, I drank. A lot. Impulse control wasn’t my friend. Now? I’m practically a Zen master of calm. Honestly, I’m impressing myself right now. I deserve a cookie, a foot massage, and an Oscar for this.

  “Let’s go have a drink and you can meet my sister. How about a cold beer?” Matthew’s face is red and a bit sweaty by now.

  “Ciao, ciao,” Mrs. Richman says.

  “Ciao, ciao,” I mimic her under my breath as we walk off.

  Matthew takes my hand, pulling me away from his mother. “God, that was awful.”

  “Sure was. But uh, babe? Maybe alcohol isn’t the best idea, given the situation and my rage level right now.”

  He glances at me and swallows hard. “Right. Good point.”

  I note that his sister is sitting apart from Chad and Mrs. Richman, clear on the other side of the vast, Olympic-size pool. Chloe’s with her and she’s riveted to her phone, wireless earbuds and all. I sink onto the lounger next to her. It’s nearing sunset, and the golden light makes everything look dreamy.

  Except this is more like a nightmare. I glance back at Chad, who’s drinking his beer on a chaise next to Mrs. Hastings. It gives me no small satisfaction to see that he’s gotten a little flabby.

  “Asshole.” Oh hell. Did I whisper that aloud? I look at Chloe, who hasn’t noticed our arrival. Thank God she didn’t hear me talk shit about her uncle. Matthew’s sister, on the other hand, is staring at me with a curious expression.

  “Sis, this is Natalia. Natalia, my sister, Hailey. Natalia just got worked over by Mother.”

  Hailey sits up and extends a hand. She’s curvy and pale, kind of like Betty Boop or Bettie Paige. She’s wearing a one-piece, black bathing suit and a floppy straw hat.

  “Nice to meet you, finally. I’d like to give you a warmer reception than my mother and her offspring over there. I saw how rude she was, not even getting up to acknowledge you. I’ll offer my blanket apology now.”

  She snorts and looks up at Matthew. “Typical of Mother.” Then she pauses and turns to Chloe. “You didn’t hear any of this.”

  Chloe takes out her earbud. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Matthew, Hailey, and I say at the same time.

  I shake Hailey’s hand. “Well, in fairness, her opinion of me might be a bit skewed. I happen to know your step…ah, Chad. We went to school together years ago.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Maybe I’m a terrible person, but it’s somehow a relief to know that his own stepsister dislikes him. The chances of me getting through the next couple of hours just increased exponentially.

  Matthew wipes his brow. “I’ll go grab some iced tea for the three of you. How about that?”

  “And some snacks,” Hailey says.

  “Salty snacks,” I add.

  Hailey’s eyes meet mine.

  “The saltier, the better,” she says with a wicked grin.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  MATTHEW

  I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a more tense two hours in my life. Not when I was flying through the worst thunderstorms in the Caribbean, not when I was waiting for Chloe to be born, not when my ex and I decided to divorce.

  Being in the same space as Natalia and Chad has been like being caught in the crossfire of a war zone. Mostly, they’ve stayed on opposite sides of the pool—thank God for my sister, who has kept Natalia entertained with stories of being a New York journalist—but I could see Chad keep sneaking glances our way while looking smarmier than I’ve ever seen him.

  Of course, Mother hired a caterer because she couldn’t be bothered to cook for seven guests. I choked down a gourmet bleu cheese burger. Natalia only took two bites of hers and inquired aloud whether her food was poisoned.

  Couldn’t blame her after the way Mother treated her. Frosty as hell. Which made me insanely curious about what really happened between Natalia and Chad. Since I’m seven years older than Chad, and we never lived under the same roof because of my estrangement with Mother, I know very little about his upbringing.

  After the two-hour mark has passed and it’s evident that Mother isn’t interested in getting to know Natalia — and considering that Natalia likely had some past encounters with her (God only knows how those went) — I decide this horror show should come to an end.

  Although the fallout for both of us will likely reverberate for a while, this tension needs to cease. She looks at me with pleading eyes.

  “Matt, I think I’m—"

  “Babe,” I murmur. “How about we call it a night?”

  Natalia’s expression softens. “Excellent idea. Just what I was about to suggest. But you don’t have to leave. Just walk me to my car, okay?”

  We both exhale in relief. She hugs my sister and Chloe, then strides over to my mother.

  “Thank you for having me,” Natalia politely offers.

  “Ciao, ciao,” Mother trills. The sound of her voice grates.

  I have to hand it to Natalia; it takes some guts to thank a woman who clearly dislikes her, then to hold her head high as she walks out. But Natalia did, and I’m proud to walk at her side.

  She doesn’t bid Chad goodbye. He’s made himself scarce somewhere else in the mansion with his father. They’re probably watching golf, because that seems to be their bonding activity. I never played, so I was automatically left out.

  Outside, Natalia slumps against the side of her car and lets out a long breath. “Wow.”

  “I’m so sorry, babe. Had I known, I would have never put you through that.”

  She rubs her pretty lips together. “Of course, you wouldn’t have.”

  I take her face in my hands. “You okay?”

  She nods, though I’m not convinced that she is. But what am I going to do in this moment? Demand that she tell me everything that happened between her and Chad? Insist she tell me what she’s thinking?

  “I have a splitting headache, that’s all. I’m going home to take a cool shower and an aspirin.”

  I kiss her forehead. “Good plan. Text me later. Or I’ll call you. ‘Kay?”

  She nods again. Wearing a mournful look, she climbs into the car. Something thrums low in my stomach, a feeling of unease. Surely, she won’t break things off because of this, will she?

  I walk inside, each step punctuated with fear and anger. What did Chad do to her all those years ago? My mouth feels like it’s devoid of moisture and I need to grab a water before I collect Chloe and Hailey so we can get the hell out of here.

  Figures, Chad’s in the kitchen grabbing a beer when I stroll in.

  “Hey, where’s your girl? I was hoping to reminisce about old times. We did some wild shit together. That one’s a crazy bitch. Just FYI.” He smirks.

  That’s all it takes. Anger explodes in me. Natalia’s a strong, sensible person. For her to be so rattled by Chad, well, he must have done something so terrible that my mind goes to a dark place.

  I push him against a wall, my hand on his throat.

  “What the fuck did you do to her back in high school?” I growl.

  “Whoa, bro. Jealous much?”

  We’ve never been close, my half-brother and I, probably because as a kid I was angry that he got all of our mother’s attention. Or that Mother decided to live with him and his dad, instead of me and mine. I strongly resented him. But as the years passed, that faded into a simmering dislike.

  Tonight, I regard him with a full boil of hatred. “What. Did. You. Do?”

  “Why don’t you ask her? She was just as crazy about me as I was h
er.” I let him go and he brushes the front of his polo shirt with his palms. “Truthfully, bro, it started as a joke. I bet the guys on the football team that I could take her virginity—”

  Pow. That’s all it takes for me to slam his face with my fist. A haze of pure, white fury clouds my vision in the seconds after I hit him. It was absolutely the wrong thing to do, but it felt so damned good.

  “Don’t ever talk about her again. Don’t ever look at her. Prick.”

  “I should press charges,” he whines, touching his fingers to his lip, which is bleeding.

  “Go ahead,” I snarl, and walk out.

  “Hey. I loved her after that,” he cries. “I did, in my own fucked-up way. Ask her. We were just messed up kids. It was nothing.”

  I turn back. “Fuck you,” I spit.

  I stalk out to the pool, where Chloe and Hailey are still lounging. Chloe’s earbuds are in and it looks like she’s playing her favorite game on her phone.

  “Can you take her home in your rental car? I need to make a stop before I go back,” I say to my sister.

  Hailey looks up, squinting. “Sure. Everything okay?”

  Out the corner of my eye, I see Chad simpering over to Mother. “I just punched our brother, so I’ll let you decide.”

  “Eep. Okay. Chloe, let’s get our stuff together,” Hailey says in a squeaky voice, scrambling to her feet. Chloe doesn’t respond because she’s deep into Candy Crush. Hailey squeezes her shoulder to get her attention.

  I put my hand on my daughter’s head. “I’ll be home in an hour or so, okay Cubster?”

  She looks up. “Sure, Dad.”

  I stride out of the ridiculous mansion without saying goodbye to Mother or my stepfather and fire up my truck. As I roar out of the driveway, it’s my intention to head straight to Natalia’s. But I pull into a parking lot on the beach to gather my thoughts. Corral my emotions.

  It’s night now, and I get out, kicking my flip-flops off and leaving them next to the truck. I walk onto the still-warm sand, a ball of confusion in my stomach. Should I go to her? Will she want to see me? Does she owe me an explanation? And the worst question of all: What if she doesn’t want to be with me anymore because of my family?