by Chelle Bliss
Lauren gasps and covers her mouth. “You did not?”
“I don’t have time to play games.” Tara pulls the salted-rim glass in front of her, causing more liquid to spill out. At this rate, half of it will end up on the table instead of in her mouth.
“Right on, sister.” Lauren lifts her glass without spilling an ounce, holding her liquor way better than Tara, which surprises me.
Over the last few weeks, I’ve spent enough time around Tara to fall in love with her just as much as Lauren is. Not in a sexual way, of course. Instead, she reminds me of Flavia and Violetta contained in one single body. Lord help any man who’s able to snag her as a mate. They’ll have their hands full for eternity.
“I hope my boot left a mark on his ass cheek.” Tara stops talking long enough to take a sip, and I use the opportunity to do something I don’t often do, be gracious and selfless.
“Tara, how would you like to come to the island with us for the weekend?”
In an almost robotic motion, Lauren turns to me with wide eyes, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Tara’s face matches Lauren’s because I’m sure they’ve had more than one girl talk about my asshole tendencies and the way I’ve been monopolizing Lauren’s time.
Tara’s glass lands a little harder on the table this time, more liquid spilling over the side. “You’d do that?” She slams her hands down next to her glass and turns her head sideways, putting her ear closer to hear me better. “You shittin’ me, Forte?”
“Sweetheart, are you sick?” Lauren places the palm of her hand on my forehead as her eyebrows draw together and she moves closer.
I pull her hand away and laugh. “I figured we could have some fun in the sun, and you two deserve a little time together too. I’m sorry I’ve kept her from you so often. I know how important you are to each other.”
“Well, fuck.” Tara snatches her phone off the table, which had somehow missed the waterfall of tequila falling nearby, and she stabs at the screen a few times.
“Tara has to work this weekend. You know those are her busy days.”
Tara glances up, giving Lauren the evil eye. “Shut your whore mouth. I’m not missing a free trip to the Bahamas. My job can kiss my ass just like that fool I kicked out of my car. Forte, I accept your invitation, but I require a hot pool boy for me.”
“Sorry, Tara. There’s only going to be the three of us on the island.”
She pouts for a second but quickly rebounds. “Unlimited bar and food?”
“That I can do.”
She almost hurls herself across the tiny bar table in my direction. “You’re the best boyfriend Lauren’s ever had.”
“It’s not hard to top the last,” I say with a laugh.
“I’ll have my bags packed and meet you at the office at five?”
“I’ll have a car pick you up to bring you to us at the airport.”
She taps her chin and tries to remain calm, but I can see she’s about to burst at the seams. “How many checked bags do I get?”
“It’s a private plane, silly. There’s no limit.”
I can see it now. Tara’s going to pack like she’s going on a worldwide tour and won’t return for at least six months.
Lauren must be thinking the same thing because she says, “Just remember, it’s an island. We’re not going out. I barely wear anything at all when I’m there.”
“What about you, big boy?”
I glance at Lauren, letting her field that one. The last trip we took, I barely kept my clothes on because there’s something so freeing about nudity on a private island. If someone came by on a kayak or their yacht, it wasn’t my problem if they saw more than they bargained for.
“We both wear swimsuits, Tara, but not much else. Just bring your suit and sunscreen. It can all fit in that giant purse of yours.”
Tara flings her black-and-white striped purse that’s as big as most carry-on luggage into her lap. “But my makeup.”
Lauren rolls her eyes and gives in. “Fine, bring whatever you want.”
“Smart,” I mutter because I’ve learned just to give in when it comes to the whims of women. Not many of them could travel with only a swimsuit and nothing else.
“Ugh. I have to go,” Tara says, glancing down at her phone as the screen lights up.
“It better not be him,” Lauren warns her.
“Who?”
“The ass guy.”
Tara groans. “It’s not. It’s work. They want me to cover the late shift and close down the bar since I have a family emergency this weekend. I should’ve waited until tomorrow to call off this weekend.”
“You can sleep on the plane tomorrow. It has a private bedroom.” Lauren smiles and grabs my hand. “Antonio travels in style.”
“I’m sure he does, and I’m sure it’s come in handy more than once.”
I laugh uncomfortably and squeeze Lauren’s hand. Sure, a few women have been in that bed with me, but not since the day Lauren smashed into my world and turned everything on its head.
Tara kisses us goodbye and runs out of the restaurant to hail a cab.
“Can she work like that?”
“She works at a bar. She’ll be fine. And she only had two drinks.”
“Let’s call it one since most of the last glass is on the table.”
Lauren laughs and wraps her arms around my neck. “I don’t know what got into you, but thank you.” She rubs her nose against mine and stares into my eyes.
“You could use a little fun with your friend. We’ll have plenty of time for the two of us.”
“Shit.” Lauren rests her head against my forehead and sighs. “Where is she going to sleep?”
“She can use the guesthouse so she doesn’t have to see or hear us.”
“Thank God. I would’ve hated to call her and tell her we changed our mind.”
“We could’ve kept our hands off each other for the weekend if we had to, Lauren.”
I’m lying, of course. Since we’ve known each other, keeping our hands to ourselves hasn’t been our strong suit.
She lifts her head and fans her face with her hand. “You may be able to, but you’ve never seen yourself when the water cascades down your body, pooling in the ridges of your muscles.”
“You’ve never seen the way the light bounces off the water droplets on the swell of your breasts, so we’re even.”
“Let’s go to my place,” she says.
I’ve started staying at Lauren’s place more often than going back to the hotel where we met, even though it’s just down the street. It’s become harder to spend time away from each other too. Our days are filled with business, but I always have her nights.
Chapter Seventeen
LAUREN
The sun hung above the horizon as the plane touched down on Nassau, the closest major island to Antonio’s estate. Tara squealed like a little kid as we flew over the aquamarine water of the Caribbean.
“Shut the front door,” she exclaims. “I can see the bottom.”
I’ve taken the beauty below us for granted every time we’ve made the flight since the first time he brought me here. My attention was always on Antonio or talking with him about work. I hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate the majesty and perfection as we flew overhead.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” I ask her as I glance out her window, staring down at the same patch of sand.
“It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispers.
Antonio’s been pecking away at his phone and has left us to girl talk for the last half hour of the flight. I’m starting to worry that something’s wrong but he just hasn’t found a way to break the news to me.
“Antonio,” I say, trying to get his attention away from work and back on our weekend of relaxation. “What’s wrong?”
He sets the phone down on the chair next to him and leans his head back. “It’s Stefano.”
“Is he hurt?” Naturally, I jump to conclusions because t
he man’s dangerous, and it’s not out of the realm of possibility.
“Worse.”
I gasp, almost hurling myself across the plane and into his lap. “Oh my God.” I grab his face, wanting to shower him with love and take away his pain.
“No. No,” he says, grabbing my shoulders to stop my assault. “He’s fine, but somehow he heard about our weekend at the island and he was nearby, so he’s waiting there for us.”
“Stefano?” Tara turns and raises an eyebrow.
“But this is our weekend,” I whisper in his ear, throwing off death rays with my eyes. “He’s going to ruin everything.”
“Hello,” Tara calls out because neither of us has answered her. “Clue a girl in.”
Antonio looks over my shoulder as I sit in his lap and try not to go ballistic. “He’s my brother.”
“He’s his very dangerous brother.”
Stefano, while being made of the same genes as Antonio, is not the same in any other way. I like the man, but sometimes he leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I don’t know if it’s his illegal activities or his blasé attitude when it comes to women, but I pray he finds someone to put him in his place.
“Is he single?”
All the blood drains from my face. Tara has done some crazy-reckless shit in her life, but inviting Stefano into her world is something I couldn’t stomach. “You are not going to date Antonio’s brother.”
She smirks. “Who said anything about dating?”
Antonio turns me in his lap like a rag doll and wraps his arms around my waist. “I have to agree with Lauren on this one, Tara. Stefano isn’t like any other man you’ve ever met. He’s too dangerous to play around with.”
Tara goes back to staring out the window as we approach the airport in Nassau. “You two seriously need to calm down. We’re on vacation with nothing but sun and sand. What could go wrong?”
Stefano’s waiting for us on the beach as our boat pulls up to the dock. He’s shirtless, tanned, and wearing the most ridiculous hat I’ve ever seen, but somehow, he makes it look good.
Tara turns to Antonio with her eyes wide. “He’s your identical twin?”
“Yeah.” Antonio gives her a nervous smile.
“Like, how identical?” She glances down at his crotch, and I can’t help but lose it.
“Pretty much the same.” Antonio gives me the side-eye, and I sober quickly.
Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. I shouldn’t be laughing. It’s kind of strange to think that he’s packing the same dick as Antonio. I hadn’t thought about Stefano in that way, not even in the least. I should’ve known though, but it never crossed my mind.
“This could be fun.” Tara rubs her hands together as Antonio tethers the boat to the dock so we don’t lose our ride home.
Stefano waves in our direction and flashes a beautiful white smile that nearly glows against his dark skin. If I didn’t know the man, I’d think he was almost friendly.
“Hey,” he says, running up to the boat and grabbing the handle of Tara’s bag just as she lifts it in the air. “Let me help you.”
“Thanks.” She blushes and lets him take it from her hands.
Packing light isn’t in her vocabulary. Even after we explained to her that she didn’t need to bring many clothes, I swear to God she packed her entire closet inside the oversized suitcase.
I resist the urge to roll my eyes or make any noise that might start the weekend off on a sour note. Stefano is Antonio’s brother, and even with all of his bullshit, they love each other. Because of that, I’ll set my feelings for Stefano aside and try to get to know him better.
“Love the ink,” Tara says as she walks next to Stefano up the beach.
She’s always been a sucker for the tattoos and bad boys. Stefano is like the holy grail of bad decisions and right up her alley.
“We’re fucked, you know,” I tell Antonio quietly as they walk ahead of us.
“They’re adults. They’ll never work anyway, but let them have a little fun and they never have to see each other again.”
I sigh and stomp my feet as we walk toward the main house.
“You can share the guesthouse with me,” Tara offers, and my angst goes from simmering to ballistic. Stefano whispers something in her ear, and she giggles all dainty and un-Tara-like.
I hadn’t even thought about the sleeping arrangements, but I should’ve. I knew there wasn’t room for another person in the main house. Well, there is room, but there are no walls, which could lead to a very uncomfortable situation.
“Hey, guys.” Stefano turns, walking backward at Tara’s side. “We’re going to get settled in and unpack. Meet you on the beach in an hour for drinks?”
Tara fist-pumps the air as she dances across the sand. “I like the way this man thinks.”
At least two of us are happy.
ANTONIO
“He’s not that bad.” I don’t know if I’m trying to convince her or myself that my brother isn’t the asshole I’ve made him out to be. Hell, he’s done a good enough job sending that signal loud and clear without my help. But from what I know about Tara, she isn’t the type of girl who would need rescuing from a man like my brother.
Although he’s dangerous, I’ve never seen him put his hands on a woman. Never. And I’ve seen some pretty crazy shit happen, from a simple slap from a clubgoer to a full-on knee to the balls. Stefano never struck back because he knew my mother would kill him. In her mind, anything short of attempted murder wasn’t a reason to touch a woman.
Lauren pulls a flowery sundress over her head and levels me with her gaze. “Just make sure this is a one-time deal.”
“I don’t see either of them settling down anytime soon, do you?”
She groans as she pulls her hair up into a messy ponytail. “I’m not taking any chances. We weren’t looking to settle down when this—” she waves her arms between us “—happened.”
She has a point. A very valid point. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her against me. “You thought I was an asshole when you found out who I was, and you were wrong.”
“So,” she says, placing her hands on my shoulders with a serious look. “You’re saying your brother isn’t an asshole?”
“Oh, he is, but everyone finds the asshole part of him eventually.”
“You’re insane.” She leans forward, kissing my lips as I slip my hands underneath her dress and grope her ass.
“Let’s stay in here and leave them on the beach.”
She backs away and glares at me. “Absolutely not. We are not leaving them outside alone.”
I’ll add this to the list of times my brother has stopped me from getting laid, and this time, we’re not kids. “If it’ll make you happy.”
Her fingers wrap around my shirt and pull me upward. “We have a girl to protect.” She points toward the sand, and my eyes follow her finger.
In the distance, Stefano and Tara are sitting on a blanket near the edge of the water, sipping champagne and bathed in the light of tiki torches he must’ve dug out of storage. They’re cozy and sitting close to each other as they stare into the darkness.
Lauren is still pointing, and the tiny lines around her mouth that only appear when she’s mad are well-defined. “That cannot happen.”
“Let’s go outside so you don’t lash out at me and we end up in bed, making mad, passionate love all night.”
She looks at me almost cross-eyed because she’s mad and my comment didn’t amuse her. “Grab another bottle of wine. This is going to be a long night.”
I grabbed two I already had chilling in the wine fridge that the staff had filled before Stefano arrived, along with two glasses. The guesthouse had been fully stocked too, so Tara didn’t go without and feel like she was bothering us by having to come to the main house.
“Oh, hey,” Tara says, glancing up from the blanket where she and Stefano are sitting a little too close for Lauren’s comfort. “Your brother was just telling me some great stories about your
family.”
I don’t even ask because knowing Stefano, it’s something that makes him look like a saint while the rest of the family is about to burst into flames for their sinful acts.
“Sit. Sit.” Stefano grabs the wine from my hands and makes quick work of opening it.
As we sit, I stare at Lauren, Lauren stares at Tara, and Tara’s making goo-goo eyes at Stefano. It’s time to defuse the situation and switch to something lighter and less stressful for the entire group.
“How did the tables treat you?” I ask Stefano because, much like myself, the man has a love of gambling.
“I was up until yesterday. But this morning, I lost fifty grand on blackjack.”
Tara spits out her wine, thankfully making it back into the glass instead of soaking us all. “Fifty thousand pennies?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“No, darling.” Stefano lays on his accent heavier than normal because he knows how American women find it sexy and irresistible. “Dollars.” He laughs softly as he fills our glasses.
Her face drains of blood, and she gives him the side eye. “Do you know what you could’ve done with that much money?”
“Tara,” Lauren says and shakes her head.
“What?” Tara shrugs. “I’m just saying, fifty thousand dollars could fill my closet with the most spectacular high heels.”
“I could still fill your closet many times over.” Stefano lifts Tara’s hand to his lips in a suave move.
“You’re not filling her anything,” Lauren grits out, and I almost choke on my wine.
“Lauren, my love, I sense some hostility.”
I glance toward the sky and wait for Lauren to explode in a glorious display of feminine anger.
“I’m sorry, Stefano. I’m being rude.” She digs her fingers into the corners of her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Tara is my best friend, and I don’t want you leading her on.”