Bossy Brothers: Alonzo

by JA Huss

  I kiss her like she’s my dying wish.

  I wake up to the sound of people laughing next door. And for a moment I’m confused. Because the rental cottages are all empty this month under the guise of maintenance.

  But then I hear a soft sigh and realize my left hand is holding a breast and it all comes back to me.

  Tara.

  I open my eyes and see the curve of her shoulder up against my chest.

  It was real. She’s here.

  We fucked. Twice. And I got a real blowjob.

  Not that I’m complaining about Tara’s fantasy blowjobs. I’m not. But Jesus Christ. The real thing kinda blew my mind if I’m being honest.

  I lean in and kiss her neck. She doesn’t moan, or move, or even attempt to wake up.

  And I’m thinking I could sleep for another lifetime if she’s next to me.

  But then I hear Jesse Boston’s voice from outside. Something about yachts. And Rosalie.

  Fuck.

  I forgot all about Rosalie.

  I need to talk to her before she starts mouthing off to Tara. I’m pretty sure Rosalie has no real idea of what we’ve been smuggling all these years, but I can’t take chances. Not after Tara’s arrival.

  So I get out of bed, slip on a clean pair of jeans, and then quietly exit the bedroom.

  After our sexy shower Tara and I were both wiped out. We dried off, crawled into my bed, and were asleep within minutes.

  But when I pass by the clock in the living room, I notice it’s barely eight in the evening. I missed dinner but apparently there’s an after-party in Luke’s old cottage.

  Sure enough, when I step outside and glance to my right, the porch is filled with people.

  Rosalie-slash-Belinda. Vann. Jesse. Luke and Zach. Tony. And a few others I only vaguely recognize as Luke’s friends.

  There’s also a little bundle of clothes on the chair next to the door. Jesse Boston comes through. I pick them up and take them inside, but Tara is still asleep so I just place them on the bed next to her and go back outside to the porch, then hesitate, trying to decide if I want to go over to the porch and sort things out with Rosalie, or just go back to bed with Tara and let it wait until tomorrow.

  But then Vann catches my eye and yells, “Where’s Tara?” loud enough to shut everyone up and make them look over in my direction.

  “Sleeping.” I redirect my gaze to Rosalie and say, “You got a minute to talk to me, Rosie?”

  Then I catch Tony’s gaze. Also directed at me. I send him a psychic thought to shut his mouth and let me handle this, but I’m not psychic. And Tony never picks up on my silent brother language. So when Rosalie skips down the porch steps of the Old Luke Cottage, Tony jumps over the side railing and then jumps up onto my porch before she even gets over here.

  I growl at Tony. “Let me handle it.”

  “Handle what?” Rosie says, walking up my porch steps.

  Tony sneers at me. “I don’t give a fuck about her. I don’t like this Vann kid. He needs to go.”

  “You don’t have to like him,” Rosalie says. “Your mom said we can stay. And if you’ve got a problem with that, you can go back across the street to your own house. How about that?”

  “Newsflash, Rosie. They’re all my houses.”

  “Don’t call me Rosie.”

  “Excuse me,” Tony says. “Rosalie.”

  “My name is Belinda. How about you call me that, huh?”

  Tony opens his mouth, intent on keeping this little former lovers’ quarrel going. But I put up a hand before he can make things worse. “Just… let me handle it, OK?”

  “Whatever.” Tony skips down my porch steps and heads across the street to his own house. Done with us.

  I turn to Ros—err… Belinda. “Look, Belinda. I know we didn’t part on the best of terms—”

  “Fuck you, Alonzo.”

  “—but bringing Tara here to try to ruin what we have—”

  “What you have?” She snorts. “What you have is a lie. On both sides.”

  “We’ve worked it out. So it’s really none of your business, OK?”

  “No? Well, you’re the reason I had to leave town eight years ago. I had a life here and you ruined it.”

  “I didn’t do that to you. And you know that.”

  She looks across the street at Tony’s cottage. He’s already inside. Curtains closed. No lights on. So there’s nothing to see.

  But I don’t need to see him to know what she’s thinking. “It wasn’t him, either. It was you… Belinda. You stuck your face into things you had no business knowing.”

  “You were using our motel to run your little operations.”

  “Little operations?” I almost laugh. “First of all, what we do is not little. And if you had any idea of what you were talking about right now, you’d know that. So here’s what I’m gonna do for you—”

  “What you’re going to do for me? Can you get my mother back? Where is she, by the way? I went to the motel. It’s a fucking hostel now.”

  “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Then I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Lonnie. But you definitely have something to talk about with Tara. And if you don’t tell her what you did—what you probably still do, and that’s why you’re online catfishing people—then I will.”

  “You don’t know enough to tell. And if you start telling her lies, I’ll make sure—”

  “You’ll make sure what?”

  “Hey. Everything OK here?”

  Rosie and I both turn our heads to see that Vann guy walking across my front lawn towards the porch. Someone from the Old Luke Cottage porch laughs loudly and the others join in.

  “Everything’s fine, Vann. Just go back to your own cottage.”

  He glares at me. “I wasn’t talking to you, Lonnie. I was talking to Belinda.”

  I roll my eyes. Belinda. “That’s not even her name.”

  Belinda-slash-Rosalie crosses her arms and glares at me. “Anything else, Lonnie? I’m sorta having a party at my place tonight. And you’re really starting to bum me out.”

  Just as she says that Luke calls, “OK, everyone. Let’s take this party inside our place. One cottage over, please!”

  I have a feeling Tony just texted him and told him to end it or he was gonna go over there and start throwing people out.

  A few moments later everyone but Jesse is shuffling inside Luke and Zach’s cottage. Then the front door closes and the neighborhood quiets down.

  “You were saying? Belinda?”

  “You’re a dick. You know that? And I’m going to make sure Tara knows everything I do.”

  And just as she turns to walk down the steps towards Vann, Tara opens the door dressed in the clothes I left on the bed. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, Tare.” Belinda calls this out with a good-natured lilt to her voice. “We’re tired. So Vann and I will just see you tomorrow.” She glares at me one more time. “Good night, Lonnie. Have a good one.”

  Then she and Vann are both at their front door. She twiddles her fingers at me in a mock wave, and disappears inside.

  Jesse takes Vann’s place at the bottom of my porch. “You… want me to… never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow too. Good night, Tara. I hope we get a chance to talk tomorrow. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Hmm,” Tara says from the other side of the screen door. “What did I just miss?”

  I got two new important pieces of information from Tara today.

  One. She was a nosy private detective in her past life.

  And two. I can use that to my advantage.

  After two years of catfishing this girl, I am not only a champion liar, but a champion deflector as well. And yeah, if anyone was spying on this internal conversation I’m having, I’d look like a giant dick—but… it’s all just very complicated.

  This is my new plan for Tara Tanner:

  My brand-new brother in law comes from a family of notorious bad boys. Bad boys who are most
certainly hiding secrets as deep, or even deeper, than mine.

  So I start the process of lying and deflecting using Jesse as my bait.

  “Hey, you said you were a PI, right? Back in LA?”

  “Yeah, why?” She sighs the words just a little. Like they make her tired. Like just the thought of her old life conjures up emotions she’d rather not deal with.

  I nod my head at Jesse across the street, just as he pulls open the screen door and turns to wave at us, before disappearing inside. “You ever heard of the Boston brothers?”

  She looks back at Jesse’s cottage. “He’s one of them, right?”

  “Yeah. But I mean, generally. Before you came here and met him. Boston brothers. They’re a bunch of rich fucks who live up in the city. Own this famous building called the Bossy?”

  “Maybe?” Tara says, shrugging her shoulders. “He looks familiar. But I wouldn’t know where to place his face if I was just passing him on the street. A celebrity, maybe?”

  “Yeah. He’s… a little bit like that. You’ve probably seen him in tabloids. In fact, there was a big spread about him and my sister, Emma, in some magazine last month. Maybe you saw that?”

  She laughs a little. “Yeah. Probably not.”

  “It’s not important. The important thing you need to know about the Boston brothers is… well, they’re kinda dirty.”

  She frowns at the Jesse cottage. “Dirty how?”

  “You know. Like... mob shit.”

  Tara makes a face. I can’t tell if her expression is one of surprise or disgust. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell is going on down here? Is everyone a freaking criminal?”

  Ah. I think that’s disgust.

  I touch her shoulder to illustrate my solidarity with her feelings on the matter. “Believe me, Tare. I’m just as disturbed about this as you are. He married my sister last month. I… I don’t know what to do about that. Nothing, I guess. It’s done. But if he’s into something, I need to know about it. I need to protect my sister. And if you were a PI then…”

  “You want me to… investigate your brother-in-law?” And did she just get a little giddy when she said the word ‘investigate?’

  She did.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I need you to investigate him. I need to keep my eye on him. Follow him, ya know? But I have to work tomorrow. Do you think you could...”

  “Sure. Yeah. That’s something I can do. God, it’s been a while. But I‘m totally sure I can do it.”

  “Great. That’s great. I’m so relieved. Just…” I place my hand on her arm and give her a serious look of concern. Which is not fake. It’s one hundred percent genuine because I really do think this girl is the one. “Just be careful. He comes across kinda dopey and dumb, but he’s not.”

  “They never are,” Tara agrees. “It’s always an act.”

  “Yeah. He’s smarter than he looks. It’s probably best to not engage him, ya know?”

  “Just follow him?”

  “Yeah. Exactly. Stay out of sight.”

  “I can do that.” Then she shrugs her shoulders all the way up to her ears, presses her hands together in front of her face, and lets out a little squeal. “I love investigating.”

  I lean down and kiss her, enjoying the way her soft, full lips move against mine. The way she leans into me as she opens her mouth and lets me play with her tongue.

  Yeah.

  I could get used to this.

  I hate lying to her. I really do.

  But it’s for her own good.

  She can’t ever learn the real truth about who and what I really am. And if she’s busy investigating Jesse then she won’t be investigating me.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TARA

  I glance over at the cottage next door, wondering where I should sleep tonight. Vann and Belinda have gone inside, so I hesitate when Lonnie walks towards his front door.

  “Tara? Are you coming inside?”

  “Yeah.” I look back at the cottage next door. “I’m just not sure where I belong right now.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Oh. Sleeping. Well…” He shoves his hands into his pockets, and damn if he doesn’t take my breath away with a charming smile. “I was hoping you’d stay with me. But I guess that was a little presumptuous. You can sleep wherever you want, Tare. Next door with Ros—Belinda and Vann. Or I can get you a room at my parents’ house if you’d like.”

  “No. But thank you. I want to stay with you. It’s just… a little bit shocking how quickly things have changed. One day, ya know? Everything is different now. I don’t even have a home at this point.”

  He takes my hand and brings it up to his lips, kissing my knuckles. And while I admit I could imagine Lonnie doing this old-fashioned romantic move, seeing Alonzo do it catches me off guard.

  He lowers my hand, still smiling. “I won’t bother you tonight. If that’s what you’re worried about. And if I came on too strong earlier—”

  “You didn’t. I just…” I sigh. “I just hate feeling out of place. And I’m not really tired yet. We just woke up.”

  He looks past me, his eyes drifting upward like he’s thinking. “OK. I have an idea. Wait here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

  “OK.” I laugh a little as he disappears inside. I take a seat on the porch bannister and gaze up and down the street as I wait, marveling at how every once in a while, life changes in the most unexpected ways.

  Lonnie comes back out wearing a hoodie and shoving a set of keys into his pocket. He hands me a flannel shirt. “It’s a little chilly tonight. So I brought you this.”

  I take it and laugh. “It’s like seventy degrees, Lons. Back home, it’s probably ten below.” I smile at him. “But thank you. Now what are we doing?”

  He waits for me to put the shirt on and then takes my hand. “You’ll see.”

  We walk down the street holding hands like we’re a real-life couple. And again I find myself in awe of life’s little unexpected gifts.

  We turn the corner at the end of his street and I immediately know that we’re heading towards the ocean. I can just barely hear the waves a couple blocks off. But we’re walking into the wind so the salty scent of sea fills the air.

  We’re quiet, just enjoying the Key West evening. There’s a lot of people out walking, like us. Holding hands, like us. Couples, and families, locals, and tourists. And we end up at the marina.

  “This is where I really work.” Lonnie points to the docks. “I have a fishing boat. I’m not like a commercial fisherman. I run a deep-sea fishing charter business.”

  “We’re going on your boat?”

  “Yeah, but… that’s not the surprise. It’s got a cabin and a bed, but not the romantic kind. It’s just a mode of transportation tonight. Nothing more.”

  “Well, I’m thoroughly intrigued now.”

  He looks down at me as we make our way past rows and rows of boats. He’s very fucking tall. I’m average height, so I barely come up to his shoulders. But I like his height. And his big hand holding mine. And the way he grins at me as we walk down the wooden dock towards his boat.

  He steps onto the boat and steadies me with his grip on my hand as I follow him on board. “Come inside with me, Tare. I’ll show you my instruments.” He waggles his eyebrows at me and I giggle and let him lead me into the small cabin. “This is your seat.” He points to one side of a bench in front of an instrument panel. “And I sit here.” He pauses. “Unless you’d like to captain?”

  “Funny. I’d get us shipwrecked for sure.”

  “Hmm. I might like to be shipwrecked with you. Beats the hell out of a cottage on Dumas Street.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. I think it’s pretty sweet that your family all lives on the same street.”

  He turns the engine on and starts messing with some controls. A screen comes to life and then he hops up and goes back out to the deck to mess with something else. His moves are practiced and easy. Like he’s done this a million times.

  A fisher
man. So weird to think of him that way.

  I watch him work, appreciating his long limbs as he coils up rope. The muscles of his legs under his jeans as he leans over to stow it inside a bench. He does everything carefully and with serious consideration. And then he comes back and sits on the bench next to me, moving the throttle on the panel until the boat begins to slowly back out of his slip.

  “Where does your family live?” he asks, once we’re slowly cruising through the harbor towards the ocean.

  “I don’t have any family. Just, I guess, Belinda. You know. She counts now. She’s my best friend. Is it weird that I call her Belinda and you know her as Rosalie?”

  He nods. “Yeah. It is. But she made it clear that she wants to be called Belinda now. So…” He shrugs and looks at me. “Do you feel weird calling me Lonnie instead of Alonzo?”

  “No. Do you think it’s weird?”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “No. It very much feels like my name.” He glances at me. “But only when you say it. If my mom called me Lonnie, yeah. It would. But it’s just my name with you. And your real name? Phoebe? Do you want me to call you that?”

  “No.” I laugh. “I’m like Belinda, I guess. I don’t know Phoebe anymore. But it’s funny. That same day that I took off from Colorado, I was thinking maybe I’d like to be Phoebe again. I even went to the thrift store to buy clothes that felt more like me.”

  “Ah, man. Are you telling me you’re not a sexy, pencil-skirt-wearing nerd?”

  “Hold that thought.” I laugh. “I was missing the old me, ya know? My exciting life as a PI in LA. Everything was so different. But as soon as I put those clothes on you called and started showing me tattoos, and then Diablo was knocking on my door, and then Vann was dragging me down a fire escape. And I thought… fuck that fucking Phoebe. She’s a hot mess!”

  He laughs and turns the boat so that we’re heading into a blanket of moonlight on a mostly calm sea.

  “She is such a hot a mess. I’d forgotten. So… no. I don’t want you to call me Phoebe. I think I needed that reminder. I never really got to say goodbye to her. Everything happened so fast once Diablo was found not guilty. The FBI was there rushing me places. Shoving paperwork in my face. New ID and passport. And then I was on a plane to Colorado. I didn’t have time to question anything, or think things through, or wonder if any of it was a good idea. I just accepted their new plan for me and fell in line. So maybe, the other day, I was having some regrets. It’s easy to forget the bad times, ya know? And just remember what you loved about something when it’s no longer there.”