The Contract

by Stella Gray

  I notice a tray table nearby, set up with an assortment of oils, lotions, and a tub of what looks like wet brown sugar. I recall her mentioning a sugar scrub, so I decide to start with that.

  Nothing like getting my hands a little sticky.

  “I’m so relaxed already that I might just fall asleep during this.” Her voice is sleepy and thick. I take the declaration as a personal challenge. I have no intention of letting her fall asleep while my hands are roaming her perfect body.

  Scooping some of the grainy scrub onto my fingertips, I contemplate what I’m supposed to do with it. I hesitate, then put it between her shoulder blades and start making little circles. She moans and gives a little shiver. Encouraged, I add more and work it all over her back, moving my hands in widening circles. The stuff is aromatic and surrounds us with a sweet scent.

  I repeat the process down her shoulders and the backs of her arms, all the way to her wrists. I have no idea if this is a total body thing, but I move to her legs next. God, her thighs are firm. I imagine her skin glowing and soft once this stuff is rinsed off. Her muscles taut and supple beneath my hands as I work them up and down her calves, squeezing and stroking as she sighs heavily. The sheet covering her ass is thin and just wide enough to do the job. I could pull it away easily, yet I don’t have the desire to, which is a surprise. Sex is my go-to, the one thing I use to drown out my emotions. But being here with Brooklyn right now isn’t sexual.

  It’s sensual.

  I never understood the difference before, but I do now.

  I think I like pampering my wife. I like the soft sounds that come from her mouth, and the way her breath catches in her throat when I massage a tight muscle. I get to her ankles, my palms covered in sticky sugar. Just as I’m debating whether to move onto her feet, her voice calls out, “Aren’t you going to rinse it off now?”

  “Yes,” I offer quietly, getting started with a soft washcloth and a bowl of steaming water.

  When I’m done, she begins to turn over. My pulse beats hard. I imagine how wide her eyes will go to see me standing over her instead of the professional she booked.

  She doesn’t look my way as she covers her breasts with the towel she’s laying on and turns. The white sheet covering the table crinkles and bunches a little, and she’s so busy trying to smooth it beneath her that she still doesn’t notice I’m not who she’s expecting.

  “Okay, I’m ready now,” she says, her eyes drifting closed again.

  “I bet you are.” I don’t hide my voice this time, and I can’t stop from grinning as she sits up in shock.

  “Luka!”

  “Surprise,” I murmur.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Shh.” I motion for her to lie back down. “Now you know how I felt when you barged into my meeting and surprised me with this trip.”

  She suppresses a little smile. “Look how good it turned out, though.”

  “It did. And I wanted to thank you. So just close your eyes and let me work my magic.”

  “You make me nervous,” she says.

  Leaning down, slowly dragging the towel off her breasts, I pause to watch her nipples pebble, goosebumps racing down her arm. “When have I ever not taken care of you, Brooklyn?”

  She arches a brow, but doesn’t say anything. I spread some scrub over her chest and work it around, tiny circles and then larger ones, my strokes gentle but firm. As I get into it, I find myself enjoying it more and more. I’m aroused, fuck yes, but I’m also…content. This is making me feel good. Maybe the Bahamas are magical.

  Despite the twinges of pain I still feel deep down over her betrayal, I have to admit that no one has ever cared for me the way she has. Through all the ups and downs, she’s been more devoted to me than anyone else in my life. That has to be worth something.

  I begin to rinse her off, squeezing the cloth between my hands so the hot water runs down the curves of her body, cooling as the air touches it.

  She’s breathing faster now, harder, the beautiful pink flush in her cheeks spreading along her skin. She’s aroused, too. Her thighs tense as I stroke them clean with the washcloth, and she presses them tighter together as if to keep from spreading them for me.

  I plan to take full advantage of this sexual tension later tonight. But for now, I’m going to let it build nicely while I pay her back for everything she’s done for me.

  When I finally finish cleaning her off, I grab a towel and wipe my hands.

  “So, now what?” she asks.

  “Now I leave, and your real masseuse comes in here to give you what you paid for.”

  Brooklyn cocks her head. “Leaving so soon?”

  “Only for a little while,” I tell her softly, tipping her chin with one finger and looking down at her.

  She smiles up at me, and my chest swells with a warmth I can’t quite name.

  Brooklyn

  Chapter 25

  It’s the night of Luka’s birthday, and I’m feeling elated: I finally managed to arrange a celebration special enough to be worthy of the Zorics. After talking to the hotel’s resident event planner, I booked the whole family a private dinner on the beach in a tent that’s decorated with softly glowing candles in glass votives, a crystal chandelier hanging overhead, and big bouquets of palm fronds and local flowers. The sound of ocean waves crashing against the sand meshes with the music of a calypso band playing on an outdoor stage further down the beach.

  The five of us are seated on thick cushions around a low table, close together and intimate. For the first course, we devoured the freshest seafood platter I’ve ever had, and now we’re midway through a heavenly lobster bisque topped with champagne crème. The candlelight shines on all our faces, adding a warm glow, and everyone is relaxed and happy.

  Luka hadn’t expected this fancy catered dinner any more than he’d known about this trip. He’s joking easily with his family beside me, while nursing a glass of sparkling water.

  My instinct is to pull out my phone and start snapping away, adding a few filters and then uploading all the best shots of this twinkling tent and my gorgeous husband to my social media. But as my finger hovers over the camera app, I hear a peal of laughter from Emzee and realize that I’ve just missed a great joke—and that’s when it hits me. I don’t need my phone to capture this moment. All I need is to keep my eyes and ears and my heart open, to live in the here and now. My experiences with these people mean far more than the photos I was planning on getting.

  I tuck my phone away and give Luka’s hand a quick squeeze.

  Honestly, I love seeing him like this. Over the course of our relationship, we haven’t had many moments where he’s let down his walls and given in to his softer side. At one point he reaches over to run his hand under my shawl and up my bare back, then strokes his thumb against the sore spot on my neck where my halter straps are tied in a knot. It sends a shiver down my spine, making me wonder what else might be in store once we’re back in our suite tonight…

  “I’d like to make a toast,” Stefan announces, leaning forward and raising his wine glass.

  “Hear, hear, brother,” Emzee says encouragingly, raising hers.

  The chatter dies down as all eyes turn to Stefan. “I’m going to make this quick before the main dish arrives, or I have too much to drink and forget everything I wanted to say,” he goes on.

  “Don’t say anything too embarrassing now,” Luka warns, grinning. “I’d like to be able to look my wife in the eye tomorrow.”

  Everyone chuckles. Stefan settles his glass against his chest and looks at his brother.

  “A year ago, I never would have guessed that my baby brother would ever get his shit together. The clubs, the booze, the fast women and faster cars. I spent sleepless nights and days worrying that he might get hurt. That we might lose him, and not get him back.”

  It’s gone quiet now, the mood more serious. I give Luka the side-eye. He’s watching Stefan intently, his expression unreadable. I wonder if this is about to be a l
ecture or an actual toast. From what I know of the oldest Zoric sibling, it will likely be a combination of the two.

  “It took a major revelation in all our lives for us to sit and regroup and figure out what path to take. After the business fell to me, Luka stepped up to say he was ready to stand at my side. He swore he’d do the work, do whatever it took to get the agency and his life back on track. But as much as I wanted to believe him, I wasn’t sure he’d be able to follow through.”

  Heaviness fills my chest, an ache punching me right in the center, when I think about how lost Luka had been back then. Partying. Drinking. Numbing himself against his life, against his tyrannical father. And all this before he even knew about his dad’s criminal activities.

  “I’m not an easy man to please,” Stefan goes on, glancing at his wife. “But I’m here to tell you that nothing has made me prouder, or happier, than watching Luka transform into a sharp, dedicated, intelligent business partner. Because that’s what you are. A partner. Effective immediately, I’m appointing you co-CEO of Danica Rose Management.”

  I hear a gasp and it takes a second to realize that it came from me. Reaching for Luka’s hand, I hold it firmly in both of mine, so full of pride I feel about to burst.

  “Whooooo!” Emzee yells, spilling wine as she thrusts her glass in the air.

  Stefan laughs and goes on. “Little bro, the man you were a year ago is unrecognizable. I like this new version a hell of a lot better, and I hope you do, too. So cheers—” He raises his glass again and we all follow suit. “To your hard work, your good heart, and your new life.”

  We all have a drink. Blinking back tears, I notice that Tori claps instead of raising her glass, then wipes at her eyes. God, all of us women are going to be blubbery messes if this keeps up. I’ve barely taken a celebratory sip when Emzee sits up with a flip of her midnight hair.

  “My turn, my turn! I won’t be as eloquent, only because I’m not drunk yet.” She turns and raises her glass to Luka.

  “Growing up, I always knew I’d get one of two things out of you, Luka. One, an ass kicking for getting in your way, or two, an ass kicking for stealing the candy bars and action figures you kept hidden under your bed.”

  Everyone laughs, and Luka shrugs, admitting, “This is true.”

  “We didn’t spend a lot of time together as kids…until we did,” Emzee continues. “And suddenly, the ass kicking turned into foul-mouthed name-calling, which turned into you tolerating me with annoyed silence. But then something major happened.

  “Stefan went off to college, leaving us without our north star, and overnight, you became my best friend. It was like the Luka who lived to kick my butt no longer existed, replaced by one who looked out for me and even pushed me to apply to a photography program for college.”

  Oh wow. I was not expecting that. Tears sting at my eyes and cling to my lashes. Tori sniffs quietly as she dabs at the corner of her eye with her cloth napkin.

  “That’s the Luka I see today,” Emzee says. “Changed. Resolute. Ambitious, and finally—can I get an amen—focused! I like to think that Brooklyn is doing the ass kicking now. If she is, it’s working. So, big cheers and happy birthday. Love you both.”

  We do another round of cheers and I finally get myself under control. There’s so much I want to say, too, but I’m not sure how. My husband has changed since we first met. Considering all the struggles we’ve had, I really can’t take the credit for his growth, but it doesn’t matter. I’m just happy that he’s made changes for the better. His family has certainly noticed. I’ve noticed.

  My entire life has changed because of this man. And despite the tension between us, I do care for him—more than I ever thought would be possible. I trust him. And I admire him. He’s worked so hard to turn his reputation and his family’s business around, and now? He’s working his ass off to get me the Maxilene contract. He doesn’t stop until things are exactly the way he wants them to be, even when impossible obstacles are constantly thrown in his way. Sure, he frustrates me to no end—but I’ve been completely transformed by his presence in my life.

  My pulse quickens with urgency. I should tell him all of this. I should make my own toast and tell him right now.

  Glancing briefly around the table, I wonder if he’d want this to be shared with his family, or if he’d prefer I offload my deepest feelings in private.

  I don’t get the chance to ponder it for very long when Luka moves off his cushion and puts one hand on Stefan’s shoulder, the other on Emzee’s.

  “Thank you both for your words. I know how pleased you are not to have to come pull my drunk ass out of a different strip club every night.” His eyes twinkle, but his voice is thick. “Jokes aside, I know dealing with me wasn’t easy on you guys. So thank you for always trying to keep me on the right path. And you know what? It worked. I wear a suit now and everything.”

  He pulls them both in for a group hug, and then says softly to his sister, “I know I was a real shit when we were kids, but I always loved you, Em. Sorry it took me a decade and a half to let you know. Thanks for never giving up on me.”

  I swallow a lump in my throat as he goes to Tori next, kissing her cheek chastely.

  “You know, Tor, I thought my father was insane for arranging your marriage to my brother. I ran away from that craziness as fast and hard as I could. But, considering the hell of our lives at the time, you coming into my brother’s life was the best possible thing that could have happened to him. I legitimately never saw Stefan smile before you. Thank you.”

  She throws her arms around him and her tears start to fall. Fanning her face, she rolls her eyes and says, “This is nothing. It’s jet lag.”

  Luka smiles. And then he’s coming toward me. He tips his water glass in my direction, his lips pressing together into a soft yet serious line.

  “And then there’s you, Brooklyn. And I understand now why Stefan stopped fighting what he and Tori were meant to have. I understand now, that running away from the people in your life that make you scared—because really caring about someone else, putting yourself out there, is scary—doesn’t mean that you stop caring about them.”

  A shiver goes through me. I manage to smile, though I can’t tell if he means it. But I want him to mean it. I’m hoping for it with every part of me.

  “Brooklyn, my wife, thank you for standing by me and being willing to grow with me, seeing the potential in our marriage even when you had other options.”

  He grins wryly, and I feel my cheeks flush. He’s talking about the Elite contract. Is this all some underhanded way to shame me? But then he comes over to me, taking my face in his hands, and looks at me with such warmth in his gaze that I can’t doubt his sincerity.

  “Thank you for pushing me to always be better, to do better, even when I didn’t show up for you the way that I should have,” he says. “We’ve had our ups and downs but I know now that you came into my life at exactly the right time. Without you, I don’t think the progress we’ve all made, both as a family and a business, would have been as strong. I wouldn’t be as strong.”

  He’s still looking deeply into my eyes, as if we’re the only two people in the tent. There’s something between us, I can feel it. Something real. I have a quick memory of his hands on me at the spa, stroking circles into my skin. How tender he was. How unrushed. Had that been an attempt to show me how he felt? Was he ready to forgive me once and for all and move on?

  The candlelight is glowing softly all around us, and I just know that we’re glowing too.

  Luka comes in for a kiss and I can’t tip my chin up fast enough. Looping a hand around his head, I press my lips to his, letting myself fall into it. Emzee lets out an ear-piercing whistle, and Luka and I pull away, both of us flushed.

  This is finally my chance to tell him how I feel. But before I can pull myself together, Tori announces, “Since we’re all here together, Stefan and I have something to share.”

  All eyes swivel to Tori. Stefan takes her hand in
his and kisses her knuckles.

  That’s when I realize she’s glowing from more than just the candles…and I think I can guess what she’s about to say.

  “I’m three months pregnant!” Tori gushes. “We’re going to have a baby.”

  Our little group explodes in surprised laughter and chatter, everyone bursting to their feet to give Tori and Stefan hugs. The hotel restaurant staff arrives with our main course and stands just outside the tent entrance to wait out the enthusiastic flurry of congratulations.

  I’m thrilled for Tori, and beyond excited about my soon-to-be niece or nephew. But there’s no way I can follow that announcement with one of my own.

  Guess I’ll have to save my devotion for later.

  Brooklyn

  Chapter 26

  After dinner wrapped up, Emzee insisted on going back to Tori and Stefan’s suite to start brainstorming baby-shower themes, so Luka and I took a stroll on the beach and eventually ended up back at our bungalow. The sand had been cool under our feet, the rhythmic hush of the crashing waves soothing and meditative. We didn’t even talk, just walked for a while with our fingers lightly intertwined, taking in the scent of tropical flora and the soft glow of the moon.

  Now that we’re in our room, I slip my silk shawl off my shoulders and follow Luka out onto the veranda. He’s still quiet—he’s been in kind of a daze since Tori and Stefan announced their baby news. The family had relished the rest of the meal, especially the bananas flambé for dessert, but the more the baby talk ramped up, the more subdued Luka became.

  “How are you?” I murmur.

  “Good,” he says without hesitation. “I’m good.”

  I slip an arm around his waist and lean into him, and he doesn’t pull away. Our bodies are warm against each other, and the mood feels light between us. Maybe all the connection I felt during dinner wasn’t just a show for Luka’s family. I’m too afraid to hope that we’re going to turn a corner so soon, but I want to hold on to whatever loving side of my husband I can get.