“And that may be a brilliant idea, but what if it starts to lose its juice and the five hours or so is actually only two or three and you’re stuck inside ogling?” Mark asks and raises a brow. “What then, Einstein?”
“I’ll monitor the battery level through the watch. If the battery starts to die, I’ll head outside, grab the drone, and lock it up with my driver,” I tell them.
“Just promise me you’ll take care of it,” Natalie pleads. “I know those women in the skimpy swimsuits may distract you . . .”
“Nah. There was a time I would rubberneck at each one. But I’m there for my sister and I’m bringing Delilah,” I say. It’s the first time I mention her, and something tells me they’re not surprised by the look on their faces.
“So, you’re dating Linc’s sister, huh?” Mark says it more like a statement with a cocky smile and his hands brace the back of the leather chair.
“Linc?” I angle my head.
“Dylan. Dylan Marshall . . . His call sign is Lincoln.”
“Why Lincoln?” I ask while locking the case and setting it on the table.
“The story goes, when Dylan was a kid, his mama knocked the lie out of him. When he got on the SEAL team, Marshall didn’t like the name, Honest Abe. So one of the other guys started calling him Lincoln.”
“Is that so?” I chuckle, remembering Mrs. Marshall at the party. She’s a feisty woman and woman that kept her kids in line. “I guess it’s better than Muffin or Twilight,” I say with a chuckle.
“Well, I kind of like my husband’s call sign.” Natalie giggles and her smile says it all.
“Dreamboat?” Mark spits out. “More like the Love Boat . . . he’s like a freaking lovesick puppy chasing you around.” His laugh rings out in the room.
“You’re just jealous,” she retorts.
“Dylan give you shit for dating his kid sister, yet?” Mark scratches his head and the playful grin widens his face.
“Actually, he gave me his blessing.”
“No shit.” Mark shakes his head and gives a side glance at Natalie as she stacks some papers and taps them on the table.
“Am I missing something?” I ask as the two dart their eyes at each other, then back to me.
Natalie produces a tabloid magazine from her purse and opens to the middle of it. “There’s a short article about you.”
I take the magazine from her and skim the words. “Damn paparazzi. I just wish they’d stop conjuring shit from the past.”
“If I were you, I’d embrace it. It’s who you are. Why can’t you be proud of being a Saint Clair and a Reinhardt at the same time?”
“This is the shit that I’ve been trying to bury. It’s old news.” I wave the magazine in the air. I let out a sigh and rein in my temper over the one woman that started it all after I dumped her and all she wanted was my money. “I was accused of rape when I was twenty-one.”
Silence fills the room and the only sound is the tick of the clock on the wall and the hum of the air conditioner.
Lee softly speaks up, “Did you . . .”
“No. I was an arrogant kid who thought he was invincible. After a few weekends of fun, I moved on to someone else and apparently, Gina didn’t like it. Next thing I know, I’m petitioning for my freedom sitting in that damn courtroom. When it was her time to testify, her lawyers told us she dropped the charges. I later found out one of my friends recorded a conversation that Gina lied and wanted revenge.”
“Is that why you joined the navy?” Natalie asks.
“Yes. And my dad.”
“The great Master Chief Gerard Reinhardt,” Mark speaks up. “Man’s a legend.”
My smile comes easily. Thoughts of Dad in his uniform. I glance up at them and let myself miss him for a moment. I exhale and shake my head. “He’s the one who gave me my call sign.”
“Which is?” Natalie’s hand is on her hip waiting for the answer.
“Mister-wet-behind-the-ears-Flipper,” Mark bursts with a chuckle.
* * *
“Thanks for the surfboard, Uncle Brody,” James says. Both his and Max’s eyes are wide with excitement.
“You’re welcome,” I say, scuffling Max’s brown wavy hair.
“I promise to practice every weekend,” Max chimes in.
I gaze into their brown eyes. Those boys are looking more like Matt every day. “And remember to use your Go-Cam. You gotta capture every moment, every wave. Then upload it to YouTube.”
Being back in Virginia this past week, catching up with the team here and spending some quality time with Laura and the boys was exactly what I needed.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to pay for the surfboards? I know those things aren’t cheap,” Laura says with a soft smile as she watches James eyeing the board in the back of the truck.
“You’re insulting me. They’re my godsons, Laura. Besides, I have a couple of those back at home.”
I look at my wristwatch and know if I don’t hurry my ass up, Jackson will be pissed at me for making the pilot wait. I could have flown coach, but Jackson insisted I take the company jet. Must be nice to use it like it’s an everyday commodity.
I pull out an envelope from my duffle. “Here, this is for you.”
Laura takes the envelope from my hand and peels back the flap. After a few seconds, Laura lifts her eyes and meets mine as tears wet her cheeks. Her reaction tells me she’s read the main line.
She waves her hand at me and places the paper in my palm. “I can’t accept this . . . Take it back, Flipper.”
“It’s too late, and it’s something you can’t give back,” I chide. “It’s for their college.” I hand her a folder with the account numbers and the receipt for the $20,000 I deposited in each boy’s account. “I promised Matt that I would take care of you. And this is the only way I know how. The funds will collect interest so by the time they’re ready for college, you should have more than enough to start them out.” I let out a breath. “You and those boys are my family. I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”
“Brody, this is too much.” Laura covers her mouth with her hand as a tear slides down her freckled cheek. “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“Just say you’ll keep in touch with me, let me know if those boys give you a hard time so I can set them straight. And if you ever need anything, I mean anything, you call me. Promise?”
“I promise. Thanks, Brody.” Laura hugs me so tight, her head is in my chest as she sobs. “Matthew loved you like a brother.”
“Yeah, I know . . . and I loved him too.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Delilah
His eyes sparkle as they meet mine. It takes me a moment to find my voice. We stare at each other for a beat as the smiles on our faces speak volumes.
The sun setting behind him accentuates a silhouette of his broad shoulders, as he stands in the doorway wearing a light gray shirt under a black sports coat, and I know exactly what’s under them. The vision of his chiseled chest, ripped abs, and muscular arms sends tingles to my inner thighs. His trim waist leading down to a pair of black slacks and I picture his amazing firm ass and how very well endowed he is.
The scent of his crisp clean cologne gives me an instant burn throughout my body and the heat pools between my thighs. It’s been a week since I’ve had Brody’s lips on mine and right now all I want is to feel them on me.
With a salacious smile, he leans in. Our mouths just a whisper apart. A soft brush of his lips on mine. A slip of his tongue as I lose myself in him. It’s tender and teasing all at the same time.
Fingers run up my bare arm, goose bumps following its path. I don’t move as I catalog this perfect moment. His arms wrap around my waist. His soothing touch and warm body against me are my refuge.
I don’t want to ever lose this feeling. He overshadows every anxiety and unease since Todd’s unexpected phone call just twenty-four hours ago.
He’s here. He’s really here.
“God, I’ve mi
ssed you.” The deep gravel of his voice fills my ears and chases all my worries away.
“I missed you too,” I say, calming my trembling hands as I cup his face. His body stills and I know he can sense something. And so can Serena, who nudges her nose against my leg.
I need to focus on the here and now. This moment is perfect. He’s perfect in my imperfect world.
“You okay?” he asks, scratching Serena between her ears.
“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just so happy you’re home.” I look down at my dog. “And I think she is too.”
He presses a kiss to my bare shoulder, then takes a step back and surveys my attire. “Wow. You look absolutely breathtaking,” he says, and I’m grateful he didn’t probe any further.
“I wasn’t sure if this was fitting to wear to a fashion show.” I twirl around in my strapless black dress that has a bit of flair at the knee. “Is it okay?”
“It’s perfect. Just like you.” His right hand that hid behind his back reveals a single long stem rose.
“Thank you.” I accept the flower and take a sniff.
“How about we skip the event? I lock us up in your room for the rest of the night and have my way with you.”
I giggle. “As tempting as that sounds, Avery will hate us if we miss her show. I still can’t believe Avery Saints is your sister and I really want to meet her.”
“As much I hate to say it, you’re right,” Brody says and laughs. “She’s been all over me to meet you too. But after this thing is over, I am taking you away this weekend.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Uh-uh.” He shakes his head. “It’s a surprise.”
“But I didn’t pack any clothes.”
“Where we are going, we don’t need them.” The corner of his mouth tugs up into a seductive smile.
“What am I going to do with you?”
“I can think of a hundred and one things you can do with me . . . and that’s just in the first hour.” He wiggles his brows and presses a kiss to my lips.
“Trying to wear me out, Reinhardt?”
“Oh, Dorothy, you have no idea.”
* * *
“Avie! Avery!” Brody calls out to his sister while holding my hand as we zig-zag through the crowd backstage.
So many women, half naked, and some with tiny bikinis they’re still wearing from being on the runway. Brody doesn’t look at them. Not even a double-take, he keeps my hand in his and kisses the top of my knuckles.
When we finally reach his sister, I’m floored at how gorgeous and tall she is. Avery’s defined arms and great boobs look amazing in a spaghetti strap, sparkly gold dress with a daring slit ending just barely below her butt as her long legs meet strappy heels.
“Brommando!” Avery squeals and I love the nickname she calls him. Our hands disconnect as he wraps his arms around his sister. It warms my heart to see him with her. It’s the tender side of him and I can tell he adores her.
When they pull apart, Brody scrunches his nose and narrows his eyes as he surveys her dress. “For fuck’s sake, can you please go put on a burka?”
Avery playfully punches his shoulder. “I have more on now than I did when I was on the runway.”
“My eyes were closed when you got up there,” he says then kisses her cheek.
I nudge his arm with my elbow. “And what about the other women?” I tease. “Were your eyes closed for them too?”
“What other women? There were other women up there?” He mocks then kisses the side of my head and whispers, “I only have eyes for you, Dee.”
“Smooth one, Brody. Smooth,” I say.
“So, you must be Delilah. I’m so happy to meet you finally.” I’m taken by surprise when she wraps her arms around me. “Sorry, I’m a hugger.”
I giggle as we pull apart. “The show was amazing and I’m so happy to meet you too. Finally,” I say with a side-eye to Brody.
“Thank you. I can’t believe I was able to pull that off,” she says, waving at someone behind us. “I had a lot of help, of course.”
“I’m so proud of you, Avie,” Brody says.
“Thanks,” she replies. “Now that this is over, I’m going to sleep for a week after I eat two double cheeseburgers, a side of sweet potato fries, and a chocolate milkshake.”
“Well, I for one, think you look amazing,” I say. “You didn’t starve yourself for this show, did you?”
She snorts out a laugh. “No. My personal trainer had me on a very strict diet. Fish and greens.”
“There you are, Avery,” a voice from behind me calls.
I turn to see Catherine. My eyes go wide as I quickly glance at her hair slicked back in a smooth ponytail, sparkly earrings, and a black fitted dress. She’s holding a clutch in one hand and the other is laced with a very handsome man’s hand. Jackson. I recognize him from the photos in her office.
“Catherine!” I squeal in surprise. “I had no idea you would be here.”
“Avery is one of my clients.” She smiles. “I have been backstage the whole time. How was the show?”
“Flawless,” I answer.
“Catherine has been a pivotal part in making this show successful,” Avery says. “And how do you both know each other?”
“I work for CJJ too. In the marketing department.”
“Wow. Such a small world.” Avery smiles and nods when a bald man, with brown-caramel skin, wearing a snug black V-neck cotton shirt whispers in her ear. “Just give me a minute. I’ll be right there,” she tells him.
In the corner of my eye, Jackson slaps Brody on his shoulder, giving each other man-shakes. “Delilah, this is Jackson. My boss.”
Pleasantries are shared amongst us as the crowd hums and music plays in the background. The rush of the crowd buzzing around us is overwhelming, but I welcome it. Being around people is exactly what I need, instead of being alone with my thoughts and thinking about Todd’s words.
“So, you’re Dylan’s baby sister,” Jackson says, stretching his hand out to me. “I knew your brother from the navy.”
“Were you and Dylan on the same team?” I ask, shaking Jackson’s hand.
“No. But we went on a few missions together. How’s he doing? I heard about the shooting.”
“He’s doing good. He’s about to have his first child and recently proposed to his girlfriend.”
Jackson laughs. “Dylan a dad and settling down?”
“I know, right? I can’t believe it myself. But I am so happy for him.”
“He’s marrying Phoebe Powell,” Brody adds. “The talk show girl.”
“Phoebe Powell?” Avery questions. “From Verbal Provisions? And her friend is Chloe Channing Cruz?”
“Yes. Why?” I ask, wondering where she’s going with the connection.
“This world is getting smaller and smaller . . . Twenty percent of the proceeds from the show are being donated to one of Chloe’s chapters located here in Los Angeles.”
“Are Phoebe and Chloe here too?” I crane my neck up and around to peek through the crowd. “I didn’t see them.”
“No. They couldn’t make it. When I spoke with Phoebe, she told me she didn’t want to risk coming to the show since her due date is very soon. And Chloe didn’t want to miss the birth of her firstborn.” Avery nods at the same bald man across the room. “If you will excuse me, I need to say hello to a few other people . . . see you at the after-party,” she adds before leaving us.
When she walks away, Jackson and Brody step to the side. From their serious expressions and hushed voices, I can only assume they’re talking about work or pretending to ignore the many models prancing around them.
Catherine laughs as she sees a couple of models checking out Brody and Jackson. “We have some good-looking men, don’t we, Delilah?”
I bite my bottom lip, smile, and nod in agreement. “We sure do.”
“Will you two be coming to the after-party?” Catherine asks as she straightens the strap on her shoulder.
I
look over at the one man that’s stolen my heart, not only with his blazing good looks and his pull at every fiber of my libido, but with the way he makes my heart feel. Loved, adored, and worshiped. And as much as I want to be alone with him, I think it’s best we attend.
“Yes,” I reply.
Catherine looks over my shoulder as someone calls her name. “Duty calls. I may be here for fun, but I have work to do as well. Excuse me, Delilah . . . I will see you later at the party.” Catherine calls for Jackson and they both disappear in the crowd.
Just as I take a step to meet with Brody, I hear a woman call his name. I stop in my tracks, watching the exchange from a short distance as people pass between us.
“Saint Clair.” The woman’s voice is sultry and smoky. And I can’t help but stare. She was one of the models and the same woman with Brody in the pictures from the article I read weeks ago. Sophia.
She’s tall, slim, fit, and I suddenly regret eating the fries I had for lunch today. Her black hair is pulled up in a perfect bun, flashy chandelier earrings hang from her ears, and a low-cut dress shows off her cleavage. When she turns, the back of her emerald dress replicates the front, except the scoop meets the nape of her spine. And all I see is her flesh getting closer to Brody.
“Sophia,” Brody greets her. My imagination gets the best of me as jealousy stings my thoughts when she presses a drawn-out kiss on Brody’s cheek.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?” She slaps his arm playfully, then picks imaginary lint from his lapel.
“You look good,” he says. “And great show.” Is he smiling at Sophia in the same way he smiles at me?
A few ladies squeal standing next to me, making it hard to hear Sophia and Brody’s conversation. I regain my hearing and refocus back on them.
“Which bikini was your favorite?” Her eyes are smoldering as she bites her bottom lip, fingers playing with the top button of his dress shirt.
My blood boils. Did she really just ask that?
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