When Rio was a freshman in high school and Mason was a sophomore in college, Rio had hit a growth spurt and rocketed to six feet, five inches, leaving Mason in the dust. His brother was barely five feet, eight inches on a good day. Likewise, Mason's build was like their mother's. He was slim and small boned, unlike Rio and his father who were big-boned, tall men. Since he left Savannah and joined the military at the age of eighteen, Rio had only gotten bigger. He was six feet, five inches and two-hundred-forty pounds of rock-hard muscle. Where Mason was blond, Rio had dark brown hair. Mason's eyes were hazel, and Rio's were a weird whiskey-gold color. The only thing he and his brother shared was a last name—well, almost the only thing.
He followed Mason into a conference room. Piles of papers scattered down the length of the twenty-foot table.
"What do you want, Rio? I'm busy." His brother didn't even look up at him when he spoke and that fucking hurt. The absolute rejection in Mason’s clipped words was a quiet agony, burning like sulphur on his skin. There was nothing he could do to defend against it. It just kept eating away at him—worse, he hadn’t a fucking clue why.
Rio closed the door behind him. The snick of the latch pulled his brother's attention away from the paperwork he shifted through. Rio slid his hands into his front jean pockets and stared. When Mason raised an eyebrow in question, Rio finally asked, "What in the hell did I do to make you hate me?"
Mason blinked at his question as if the hard drive in his brain was rebooting. Rio was done tiptoeing around Mason's malice. When he was in the military, he’d dealt with Mason’s hostility because he was always leaving. He wasn't leaving anymore, and he'd be damned if he was going to have his brother's issues taint his life.
Mason answered his question with a question, "Why did you come back?”
“You know why. Grandfather’s will stipulates to inherit I have to be here, working for the company. There has to be something I can do without fucking it up too badly.” Rio grabbed the back of one of the chairs around the conference room table.
“It’s just that easy, huh? You waltz in; you inherit, and what, all the blood, sweat and tears I’ve put in for the last ten years don’t mean shit. Right?”
Rio was the one doing the brain reboot now. He sputtered, "What the fuck?" What in the hell did his inheritance and a trust set up by their grandfather almost twenty years ago have to do with Mason?
"How crass. Do you have any idea of what it’s like to work twenty hours a day to make sure this company doesn’t become irrelevant? No, you wouldn't, would you? Rio North, All Star. Rio North, Navy SEAL. Rio North, decorated war hero. Rio North, favorite son, favorite grandson."
"Right, like living in the shadows of your scholastic accolades and intellectual accomplishments was easy," Rio shot back. "Fuck you, Mason. You were always the golden child, the business boy-wonder who was groomed to take over the family enterprise, make Northern Nova into a global name. I could never compete with you, so save me the bullshit and tell me what I did that caused you to hate me so much? Was it because I used to date Deanne? Because I asked her to come with me when I left for the Navy? Trust me, I have zero feelings left for her. None." Rio was pissed. His emotions had migrated from curious, to shocked, to fucking furious. That was the only reason he’d pulled Deanne, his old girlfriend and Mason’s current wife into the conversation. In all honesty, it was one of the only things he could think of that would cause the rift between them. Everything that was wrong between them had happened when Deanne had dropped Rio like a hot coal.
So, call him a callous motherfucker. Taking a spoon to his guts and splattering them all over the conference room table sucked, but he’d gladly do it to clear the air and the history between Mason and himself. If he was going to live in this city, he needed to at least attempt it.
Mason shook his head. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t pretend she means nothing to you!”
“She fucking means less than nothing to me! She didn't give a rat's ass about me, only the money she thought I had. When I told her I was leaving to join the Navy and asked her to marry me, she laughed in my face. Not two weeks later, she flaunted the fact you’d asked her out.”
Which had led to one hell of a fight between the two of them in front of the restaurant where Mason had taken Rio’s ex. Well, it wasn't much of a fight. Rio threw the first and only punch. Who knew Mason had a glass jaw? The cops who witnessed the altercation had detained him and instead of vouching for him, because Mason was out cold and bleeding, Deanne had claimed she had no idea who he was.
“I was the one who got hauled off to jail and it took Dad’s lawyers to spring my ass and get the charges dropped. Yeah, Deanne cared about nothing but my credit rating, and since I had no money and was joining the Navy, she went after you.”
“That is my wife you’re talking about. Be very careful,” Mason growled.
Rio shook his head and stared at the man he used to idolize. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Congratulations, by the way. I don’t think I ever said that."
His brother grunted and muttered something under his breath. Fuck it, Rio'd tried. He lobbed a shot across Mason's bow, "But since I wasn’t invited to the wedding, I’m sure you don’t care about my well wishes.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? You didn’t even RSVP.”
“I never received an invitation! I was stateside. I could have come home had I known you were even engaged or getting married!”
“You ignored both the engagement party invitation and the wedding invitation. I asked you to be my fucking best man. I wrote you a letter!”
“I. Never. Received. Them!” Rio pushed his hand through his hair in exasperation. “When Mom called and told me you were engaged, I was fucking happy for you, man. I called and left a message at your home number. It was the only number I had. I told you that I was happy for you. I waited for you to call me back. You didn’t, and I didn’t get any invitation. I asked Mom why. You know what she said? She said Deanne told her you didn’t want me to come. So, I ask you again, why do you fucking hate me?”
“I—” The conference room door opened. “Mr. North, your ten o’clock is here.”
Rio spun and glared at Mr. Rabbit-man, and the guy shrunk back.
“Thank you, Hampstead.” Mason grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and headed toward the door. He stopped as he came level with Rio. “Unlike you, I have work to do. We’re done here.”
“I disagree.” Rio held his brother’s stare. “You haven’t answered my question.”
“And I don’t plan on it. Not today. I'm sure you can see yourself out.” Mason swung his jacket on as he walked out the door.
Rio slammed his hand against the conference room table. Son of a bitch. He never received an invitation. His mind slid through the conversation that had just taken place. He didn't want what he was thinking to be true, but dammit, there was only one person who could have fucked over both him and Mason. The question was why? He was going to find out, but in order to do that, he needed to talk with his parents.
Rio stalked through the empty hallways, making his way to the reception area. He glanced up at the fabulous metal art work and wondered how something so spectacular suddenly seemed inconsequential.
Chapter 7
> Where are we going?
Meg pulled the phone toward her with her pinky. She had just finished packing the picnic dinner in a new lidded basket she'd jetted out to buy earlier. She smiled at the text and glanced at the time. It was almost six, and she needed to get ready, too.
> Tybee, North Beach.
He'd figure it out from there. She chuckled at the thumbs up she got back before wiping her hands and the counter with a paper towel. She glanced at her kitchen. Everything was put away, and it was clean. Her front room had been vacuumed and dusted to within an inch of its life. Her bedroom, too, but she kept telling herself that was because Saturday was cleaning day, not because there was any pote
ntial for Rio to come up to her apartment after their date. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail it had been in for most of the day and set about re-doing the damn thing, wrapping it tightly into a bun at the top of her head.
Stopping in front of her small closet, she pulled out a sundress and a matching sweater she'd been saving for a special occasion. It was a steal when she found the set online, and on a prayer, she'd bought it in a size smaller than she was at the time, in hopes of reaching that goal. It was an incentive, and she smashed through that one and many, many more, losing enough weight that the dress had to be taken in by a seamstress in Garden City. She held up the light blue material and smiled. So many little successes. She slipped into the shower and used the scented body wash that matched the lotion she'd put on after the shower. Her first ‘second’ date in years. A hum of excitement vibrated under her skin as she toweled off.
Her phone skittered along the granite vanity. She glanced at it and frowned. Her sister had been on a mission today. Her phone had been blowing up at regular intervals. She systematically deleted each and every text and phone call. She didn't need or want her sister involved in her day. Thankfully, Meg knew that Mindy was swamped on Saturdays with the children's activities so she didn't worry the woman would just show up on her doorstep. Not that she'd ever done so, but then again, Meg had never disregarded her in such a complete fashion either. The phone vibrated again. She glanced at it, mascara wand suspended in the air. Her mother. Awesome. She turned back to the mirror and pulled the wand through her red eyelashes, turning them dark brown and lengthening them to frame her blue eyes. She added a light touch of blush over her foundation, but her excitement had caused a natural perma-blush to appear. She added a touch of lip gloss and let her hair drop to her shoulders. The soft silky fabric of her dress slid through her fingers as she pulled it on and zipped it. She drew a breath and held it before she turned to the mirror. Oh… my... Her lungs pushed the air out. The dress made her look… pretty. She twirled and the loose skirt floated around her knees. The bodice accentuated her breasts without making her look like a hoochie-momma. Gah! She rolled her eyes. With a strong mental slap she sent her mother's words to the back recesses of her mind.
The bodice was low and form fitting. She turned sideways in the mirror and smiled. Her arms and legs were toned. She turned around, trying to take in her appearance from all angles. She nodded. Not perfect, but she looked nice. A quick rummage through the bottom of her closet uncovered a pair of flat-soled sandals. Practical since they would be walking along the boardwalk and then through the dunes at North beach.
Grabbing her cell, she bounced out to the kitchen and took another quick inventory of the picnic basket. And yes, she said it like Yogi would, pick-a-nick basket. A small giggle floated out of her. Happiness and excitement pounded in her chest. She stopped at the counter and closed her eyes, taking several long, deep breaths until she could concentrate. Okay, check the basket. Utensils, napkins, food, wine, water… oh! She pulled open the drawer next to the stove and rifled through it. "Ah-ha!" She lifted the corkscrew out of the drawer and bounced over, placing it in the basket. One more quick check. If she was forgetting anything, they'd just have to deal with it.
Her eyes popped to the clock. Still fifteen minutes to go. Her eyes bounced from room to room, making sure everything was in order. Another glance at the clock. Oh, goody. Thirty seconds had passed. At this rate, she’d be a nervous wreck by the time Rio picked her up.
Her phone vibrated. She glanced at it, hoping it was Rio. It wasn't, it was her mother again. It vibrated for a minute and then silenced. Not more than ten seconds later it went off again.
"Seriously?" Meghan grabbed the phone and swiped the face. "What do you need, Mom?"
"That is not how I raised you. Where are your manners?"
"Sorry, Mother. What do you need? I'm heading out."
"Why aren't you answering your sister's calls?"
"I'm sure she told you."
"I want your side of the story."
"Since when?"
"Meghan." Her mother's voice grated viciously on every one of her nerves.
"You don't really want to know why, Mom." Her resolve was crumbling. She could feel it, dammit. She blinked back the anger that surged forward at the thought of caving. The anger wasn't directed at her mom, however, she was upset at herself. She wasn’t going to cave… again.
"Actually, I do want to know why you've been acting like a spoiled brat. I raised you better than this. For goodness sakes, she is only trying to help you. You'd think you'd be more appreciative. She doesn't have to search for men who'd actually date you, you know."
Pain lanced through her, striking that vulnerable place once again. She felt the direct hit and knew what else was coming. It always followed on the heels of the first blow.
"If you'd just lose some more weight, you could attract men on your own."
And there it was. Meghan shook her head. Not this time. No, she wasn't going to stay silent. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly as she spoke, "The reason I'm not answering her calls and avoiding yours is that I'm through listening to both of you tear me down under the pretense of helping me." She held her breath. She'd never been this honest with her mother. Never. She'd always turned the hurt inward and kept it to herself. Well, no longer. "I'm happy with the way I look. I will never be as slender as you or Mindy. I'm sorry if you can't accept who I am, but I will no longer accept being treated like my feelings don't matter. Goodnight, Mom."
Meghan disconnected the call and held the phone in her hand. Disbelief at her words spread across her mind like tiny prickles of ice. She'd shut her mother down and hung up on her. Oh, hell… what had she done? Her stomach lurched, and she felt ill. She'd severed the apron strings. With a freaking machete.
Her phone nearly flew out of her hand at the knock at her door. She sniffed and wiped under her eyes. No tears and no running mascara. Thank goodness. She blinked and plastered on a happy face to open the door.
Rio filled the doorway. He was wearing dark brown boardshorts, a matching polo and a pair of boat shoes. He gave her that sexy as sin smile. "Hey, this is a nice… what's wrong?" Rio's eyes traversed her face. His concern was immediate and dammit, it was just what she didn’t want.
"Oh, you know, family issues." She smiled wider and opened the door. "Come in?"
"Thank you. You have a nice apartment." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his boardshorts. "Did you want to reschedule?"
"Oh, no. That is exactly what I don't want!" She spun and pointed to the kitchen and the huge picnic basket she'd been working on all day. "We’re having a picnic. North Shore, Tybee Island."
"I haven't been to Tybee in well, crap, it's been fourteen years. No, fifteen." It took him five steps to reach the kitchen and grab the handle of the basket. "Your chariot awaits, my lady." He motioned to the front door.
Meg smiled and grabbed her purse. She glanced at her phone but left it on the counter. "Do I get to ride in that sports car?" She locked her apartment and walked with him down the breezeway to the stairwell.
"Absolutely. Would you like to drive it?"
"What? Me? No! No, I think I'll just sit in it and pretend I'm a statue, so I don't damage it."
He laughed at her. "You're joking, right?"
No, she really wasn't. "Yeah, but I don't think I'd like to drive. I'll leave that to you."
"No problem. The offer stands if you ever want to take her for a spin." They approached the car and Meg stopped short, looking at the sleek vehicle. "Where are we going to put the basket?"
"There is a small compartment. It should just fit." He lifted a small hinged door and settled the basket inside, closing the metal lid softly. "There. No problems."
Meg lifted an eyebrow. Yeah, this was definitely not a family car. Rio came around and opened the car door for her. It swung up. Up. As in not out, but up. Oh, Toto, she was so not in Kansas anymore. He took her hand and helped her lower into the car
. She folded into the seat and swept her skirt into her lap. He closed the door and her eyes ran over the futuristic looking dashboard. He dropped into his seat and smiled at her. "Ready?"
"For anything." Meghan released a smile. She was Cinderella and Rio was her Prince Charming. Mindy was wrong. She'd found a prince, and he actually wanted to be with the ugly sister. Out of Rio's view, she pinched her inner arm. Ouch. Yeah, this was real, she wasn't dreaming.
"Tybee Island, North Shore, here we come." The car roared to life at a push of a button, and they backed out into the street.
"We are so low to the ground!" She ground her teeth and closed her eyes tightly when he maneuvered over a speed bump in her apartment complex. "Sorry."
"For what?"
"The speed bumps."
He gave her a look and then smiled. "You have nothing to be sorry about. Nothing."
Rio maneuvered through Savannah traffic and hit the interstate heading to Tybee Island. "So what family drama had you upset?"
"Oh goodness..." She laughed uncomfortably.
Fuck. Wrong topic. He was a fucking moron sometimes. "Nevermind. None of my business."
"No, that's okay. I had an argument with my sister last night, and then right before you knocked on my door, my mother blasted my good mood to smithereens. I have a rocky relationship with them. I always have."
"I know about rocky relationships. My brother and I are not exactly on speaking terms. I spent this morning trying to rectify that."
Hot SEAL, Savannah Nights Page 6