Favorite Coffee, Favorite Sin (The Marshall Family Saga Book 3)

by Victoria Pinder

"No, I just wanted to check some emails and check in on a few investments. Are you ready?"

  The entire past year might have been so much fun if she’d told Chris to go and hadn’t walked away from Michael. She touched his arm and he stood to go. She glanced around the white room with small portraits of local life. This wasn't just a small room with a bed. If she’d spent this year with Michael and they were a real couple, she’d have lived in places like this. She massaged her neck. "This is much nicer than the hotel room I was supposed to be in for the week. If I had stayed on our 'date' last year, would it have ended up in a place like this?"

  "Or in waiting for you, it made me realize I needed to pull out all the stops."

  Her body lurched like she wanted to kiss him, but she held still. He knew exactly what to say, but then that was always his reputation. It was better not to put stock in her feelings now, so she walked briskly to the door. She went to the door and they ended up outside on the sunny day. It was better to ensure they were on the same page. "What stops? We're just friends, with benefits these days, like you and Eva Bishop were until recently."

  "You are nothing like Eva."

  "How so?"

  They walked toward the beach and took advantage of their private access as no one else was on the white sands or near the blue umbrella with white beach chairs that she aimed for. “I don’t want to discuss.”

  “We’re both your long-time friends.”

  He peeled off his white tee shirt and threw it on the chair next to where she placed her bag. "Eva and I were both looking to forget our lives, and we're both adults about exploring what we wanted from each other."

  No, no, no. Her body ached for Michael and so did her heart. The lifetime of denial seemed stupid. She lowered her gaze to not look at his chiseled abdomen that reminded her of how hot last night was. "I know not to get attached to you, Michael. You don't believe in getting tied down."

  "Who told you that?"

  Now she looked at him and took off her cover-up. It was time to go into the ocean. "You did."

  "When was that?" He followed her toward the ocean's edge.

  She dipped a toe in the water and felt it was warm. In Miami the ocean was lukewarm, but here, the ocean was like warm soup. She never even looked over her shoulder. "In college, one day when we had lunch in the university center."

  "You were always the exception to the rule."

  "Doubtful." She walked deep enough and took a dive into the water. As she surfaced, she said, "You sounded sincere."

  "I was talking about other women. Of course I was sincere." He dove.

  She watched the water for his return. Then she circled. It was longer than she expected. Where was he? She was about to call his name, but she felt a hand on her leg. He surfaced as their bodies briefly touched and she peeked into his blue eyes. "Is this how you get women to fall in love with you? ’Cause I have to say I'm flattered."

  He leaned closer and put his mouth next to her ear. Her pulse quickened as he said, "I don't ever say this to other women."

  She splashed him, mostly to make space between them. Then she swam but he followed. The ocean water must be affecting her brain cells. She stopped swimming and turned toward him. Part of her hoped he'd want to spend every second of his life with her. "Okay, I'll play. What makes me an exception?"

  "Calliope, besides the fact I have known you all your life and remember you in pigtails as you dodged water from the sprinkler on my front yard, you always spoke to me like you listened. Most people never bother to see past the obvious."

  The last part made no sense. "What obvious?"

  "That I'm rich and good-looking."

  She splashed him. "That's absolutely vain."

  He splashed her in return but then winked. "You get to say that because you have a trust fund."

  Money in the bank wasn't a family and life insurance with trust funds for her and her brother had never made her feel better when the moon was in the sky and she was alone. "I'd rather have my parents."

  "That's where we differ. My parents were always searching for the bottom line and Sandra and I never mattered as much."

  Her parents had been in love. His father would have gone to jail if not for his own suicide. She stepped closer to him and he stopped splashing. Even as children, she remembered vague moments like his father yelling at Michael on the front lawn when he wanted to play. The memory faded. "Your father was horrible to you, but your mom was nice."

  "I stopped remembering her."

  Cancer had taken his mother when he was ten. Her own mother had hugged her tight when she asked about death that night. No one must have hugged Michael. She placed her hand on his shoulder and leaned close. "You shouldn't. She loved you."

  "I don't want to talk about my mother. Now that you're free, what was it about Chris that held you to him all this time? You were faithful when no one else would be."

  Hard questions. She let him go. She wasn't ready to answer questions about herself. She turned toward the ocean and stared into the blue that went on forever. "He was sweet when we were younger."

  "He acted like he was the one with the trust fund."

  No. Chris had loved her at some point in their life, he must have. She wasn't stupid, though Michael chipped at the same point that Brandon had been telling for the past year. She turned to face Michael again. "No. He was always telling me to be conservative and not spend."

  "The Chris you knew and the Chris I saw were two different people. Don't let anyone else ever control your money, Calliope."

  All of this was too much. She wanted to not think about anything anymore, especially her bad choices. "Fair enough. Now will you kiss me, Michael?"

  He followed her command. His hand traced her body, and she felt her nipples pucker as his body came closer to her. As his lips descended, he said, "Calliope, it's time for you to admit you want a you and me."

  Then he kissed her and she would agree to anything as long as this moment continued, forever.

  Chapter 6

  I love you. The words almost floated out of her as she stayed next to Michael. She bit her tongue to hold it in. Her body ached from his touch. Michael's strong shoulders and those dimples of his gave her a sense of home and belonging that she'd not felt in years. Perhaps since her parents had tucked her in to bed for that last night. She snuggled in closer and let her eyes rest. This one moment needed to be cherished.

  At least she hadn't told him something silly. To touch him, her fingers laced with his and she dozed.

  A few minutes later, the moon began to grow in the sky. She must have slept more than she realized. She sat up in bed and glanced at Michael, who smirked as he stared at her naked body. If only he might love her.

  Uh oh. She tugged the covers over herself but laid her head next to his on the pillow. His fingers stayed entwined with hers. "Michael, what is it you want out of life?"

  "What?" He turned on his side and leaned over her. He brushed her hair away from his elbow.

  She wouldn’t tell him 'I love you.' She would not say those three little forbidden words. Her heart beat faster. If she could help him in some way to figure out what he wanted from life beyond revenge against his father, perhaps he'd realize he could love her too. "What is it you want now?"

  His blue eyes seemed to gather into a cloud as his body stiffened. "I want to prove to my father I'm nothing like what he said."

  “Hard to do now.”

  “I know but he still lives in my head. Everyday I wake up, I want to show him that he’s wrong.”

  She reached out for his withdrawing fingers and held his wrist. He had to believe her. "Clearly you're not. Michael, you don’t steal and con people. You use your brain that you always possessed to do math and make connections no one else sees yet.”

  He let his body relax again and she could feel his hardness growing. He didn't offer another round. "Not what I mean. You know too much about me."

  “I only recently learned more.” His anger was only going
to hurt him in the long run. She ran her hands up his muscular side. "So let me ask a few questions. Do you do illegal acts to make money?"

  "Absolutely not. Cheating is for cowards."

  Then she blinked. "Again that sounds like your dad. You should let that go."

  He sat up in bed. She followed, but missed his nakedness. "I can't. I've been investigated seven times in the past year because some investor that bet against me wanted to prove I must be a criminal like my father."

  The ghost of his father never let him rest. "So why did you go into banking?"

  He grinned and stood to retrieve his underwear. "I like to see the face of shock on the face of any man when he realizes he was bested because he wasn't as smart as me."

  He was better than he let himself believe. "Michael, it's not about winning or losing with a ghost. Many people have horrible things they went through and they aren't scared."

  His jaw tightened. "I'm not scared of anything."

  "Scared? I meant scarred." He picked up his pants. She threw the covers off and put her underwear on as she said, "You are walking around so full of anger that you don't let others in."

  "At least I try to protect myself, Calliope, and don't let others walk over me."

  No. He was right. She let others walk over her. She even bought a wedding dress to let it happen. Her cheek began to tick. "I don't."

  "You said yes to Chris though you knew about Roxanne."

  Her eyes widened. She tugged on her shirt and pants and she refused to look at him, while adrenaline rushed in her veins. "I didn't know about Roxanne."

  "Don't lie. Your forehead still gets red and your vein is throbbing in your forehead."

  Her gaze shot up. Her nervous tic sounded like a lifetime problem when he described it. "How do you remember so much about me?"

  "Calliope, I don't forget any details ever."

  She collapsed onto the bed and wanted to curl into a ball. She didn't but her shoulders slumped. This was too much. He‘d never loved any woman and never believed in happy-ever-after. For her to say 'I love you' was a stupid impulse. Then her gaze met his and her face tightened. "Why, though? I bet you one hundred dollars you cannot name the woman you dated before Eva."

  He sat beside her on the bed and lowered his voice. "I never dated Eva."

  Her lips curled while she raised her eyebrow. "Whatever. Can you?"

  "I never agreed."

  She sat and went toward her bag. This was too much. She shook her head as she unzipped it. "So you can't."

  "Her name doesn't matter."

  She found her clothes in the drawer and tucked them into her bag. "That's what I thought."

  She was being stupid again if she trusted her feelings because she was seconds from being the wife of a man she hadn’t trusted but kept her mouth shut. How could she ever trust this? It was time to stop. Michael stood beside her and placed his hand on her bag to stop her as she tried to pack her shoes. "Calliope, what's happened? We just had a wonderful time and you, naked, under me was enjoyable."

  She reached out and picked up his hand to move it. Then she opened his palm and removed his hold. Free, she placed her shoes in the corner of the bag, completing her packing. "I almost said I loved you and I know you don't want anything like that from me."

  His face went white. "What?"

  Yeah, she'd been right not to call out in that moment. Her skin was electrified and she must be blushing, but the energy felt like it echoed in her entire body. If she left, she’d forget everything in the bathroom. Darn. She went to the bathroom and found her toiletry bag. She rolled the bag to fit it and returned. "It's okay Michael. You are right. I define myself through relationships and I almost married Chris because I was terrified of being alone."

  Color returned to his face. "So you don't love me?"

  "Would it matter to you?" Done. She packed the bag and stood it up on its wheels, ready for her to bolt at the first chance.

  "Yes."

  The word filled the room and the electric storm in her skin calmed, like she believed him. Then she took a deep breath and shook her head. "My heart beat pounds in my chest because I want to hear that you love me, but I've heard you many times say that you don't believe in marriage or love. I’m vulnerable and confused right now and not in the same place as you. You want just physical, but I’m dreaming about more than you can offer. Michael, it's time I go."

  "Wait." He reached out and took her hand in his. She took one look at his fingers—rough fingers that made her body feel like it was a temple of desire.

  "I know." Impulses ruled her now, but the calm she felt beside Michael made her feel that her imagined life was possible. If only he wanted her forever. She lowered her lashes. "Why?"

  "I want to lay my cards on the table too."

  Trust him. If he said he loved her she wasn’t sure she could trust anything. She would be foolish right now if she believed him, but her heart begged that she'd hear something like that while she nodded. "What?"

  "I want you more than any other woman."

  Want wasn't it. She felt like she’d turn into a pool of water at his feet. "That's not enough for me."

  "But Chris and his empty promises were?"

  The glass shards that remained of her feelings continued to crunch and grate against her skin. "He made promises."

  "If I give my word, then it's done. There is nothing empty about me."

  This was why Michael felt more like home than ever. Despite the almost wedding, she wasn't even dreaming about Chris. It was all Michael. She swallowed. "So what is it that you want from me?"

  "I want you naked and willing in bed. I want your opinions to keep flowing and I want to hear you laugh more."

  That doesn’t mix with happy-ever-after, holding hands when they died, and that was all she wanted. She'd not say that either. She rubbed her forehead and reached for the handle of her bag. "Friends with benefits isn't going to work for me. Michael, thank you for everything."

  She kicked the bottom of her bag lightly and walked toward the door.

  "You're leaving?"

  "Yes. Goodbye." She closed the door and raced toward the front. The hotel lobby could call her a taxi. Every cell in her body wished to remain with Michael, but this was a like a snow globe moment of time in her life. Now it was time to forget all of this and figure out how in the world she was to be happy in her own skin.

  Chapter 7

  Calliope hadn't come back. Michael sat in the hotel room for a few hours, wondering if she would. She’d packed and left so fast that his head spun. Once he realized she was truly gone, he’d ordered his plane to be fueled. It was time to go. He packed the few items he’d purchased into a plastic bag and then his phone rang. He read his sister's name on the screen. "Sandy."

  "Michael, why weren't you on the ship?"

  The cruise. He had forgotten. He peeked out the window and saw no car. It was clear that if he stayed, he'd be alone. "I helped Calliope get out of the hotel. Did you get my bag?"

  "Yeah, of course." She sounded as though she’d stopped typing something. "Where are you now?"

  "Still in Mexico but I ordered my flight home tonight." The last person he'd tell about today was his sister. Like Calliope, all he had was one sibling left, only his was about to get married and live a happily-ever-after with the man she always wanted. He was the one who’d never deserved that and wouldn't put himself out there.

  "I want to talk to you about Colt’s and my wedding. Will you give me away?"

  Good. She hadn't asked. He swallowed and then picked up the plastic bag. The headlights of a taxi came into view. "Yes."

  "Michael, what's wrong?"

  "Nothing." At least she couldn't see him. His thoughts raced that Calliope deserved better.

  "It's in your voice."

  How? He’d said one word. He walked toward the lobby and handed in his key. They passed him a receipt and he nodded as he said to his sister on the phone, "Nothing's wrong, Mom."

  "Don't
be sarcastic. How was Calliope? She must have been mortified. I'd have wanted to punch Chris, right in the middle of the wedding."

  He wished she had. Instead he’d put all his energy into the one thing he’d wanted, the bride. "She's..." The words never formed for his sentence. He swallowed and then walked outside and opened the car door. "My cab is here. One second."

  He slid in, slammed the door and spoke to the driver about the airport. The moment the man drove, he sat backwards. He held his phone in his ear but had nothing to say. The past thirty-six hours were not up for discussion.

  "Continue."

  He should have said he had to go earlier. He stared out the window and imagined Calliope's face. "Continue what?"

  "How was Calliope?"

  No. Again he wouldn’t tell his sister. He rubbed his eyes. "She was rebellious. I took advantage."

  "How?"

  Calliope, his sister Sandy, even Eva... none of them should trust him and deserved better. "I'm not a good guy. I shouldn't have been the one who helped her escape."

  "You slept with her on her wedding night."

  He winced. "That sounds bad when you say it."

  "Michael, I thought you liked her."

  His chest constricted as the car turned onto the runway, nearing his plane. "Why would you think that?" The name Marshall was clear on the side and someone waited next to the ramp. He narrowed his gaze to see through the newly formed fog. "I'm arriving at the airport, Sandy. I need to go."

  "Answer the question. Do you like Calliope?"

  The car drove closer. The figure that waited was a woman, but from the outline he understood instantly that it wasn't Calliope. "I like all women."

  "Fine. Don't answer. Guess you won't mind if I ask her to be a bridesmaid."

  "Don't get involved." The cab stopped and he could see the dark hair and icy blue eyes of his ex. He paid the driver as he said, "Wait. Eva is here."

  "Oh yeah, that's why I called."

  "What?" So this wasn't to check on him. He grabbed his plastic bag.

  Sandra smacked her lips together like she was still a teenager though neither of them were. "She wanted a ride home and felt embarrassed about staying on the cruise. I told her that you weren't on the ship either, so I told her to stay near the airport and that when I heard from you, I'd let her know."