by Rye Hart
“You ready to try my idea?” Lizzie asked.
“Never. But Katie, I’m so glad you didn’t marry that douchebag,” Whitney said.
“That, too. The way you handed it to him in front of that crowd last night was awesome. Girl, I was so proud I was cryin’,” Lizzie said.
“You don’t cry, but thanks for the sentiment,” I said.
“Now, you can let your heart heal and get on with your life,” Whitney said. “Are you going to stay here? Or come back to New York?”
“I think I’m going to stay here. I mean, I took the bar exam here, and my family’s here. I don’t see myself going back to the city.”
“You were all about that city life in high school,” Lizzie said. “Not what it’s cracked up to be?”
“More along the lines of I’ve got too many memories there with Michael, and I’m not sure if I could heal going back to New York,” I said.
“Well, if you ever want to come visit, you know you’re always welcome to stay with me,” Whitney said.
“I’m gonna miss you, and the same applies. Once I can get on my knees and beg my landlord for my apartment back, you’ll have a place to crash, too,” I said.
“Or you could get on your knees and—”
“Lizzie. Seriously?” Whitney asked. “The last thing Katie needs to be doing right now is getting on her knees for any man. If anything, they need to drop to their knees and show her why they deserve to stay.”
“Oh, shit! Some freak action goin’ on over here. Who knew little Whit-Whit liked her some oral?” Lizzie asked.
“Or I could simply take the time to heal and move on before jumping into anything else. You know, what regular people do?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I saw you getting close to those two brothers this morning,” Whitney said.
“Caleb and Dylan? Hardly. I’ve known them ever since I was a little girl. I had my childhood crushes but that was years ago. We all grew up,” I said.
“Yep. They were there through everythin’. Her daddy runnin’ out. High school. Her eighteenth birthday,” Lizzie said.
“Shut up,” I said.
“What happened on her eighteenth birthday?” Whitney asked.
“Her and Dylan sucked face, that’s what happened,” Lizzie said.
“Oh, was that the one in the navy blue bespoke suit?” Whitney asked.
“The fuck is a ‘bee-spoked’ suit?” Lizzie asked.
“A ‘bespoke suit’ is a suit that is made from scratch and tailored to the body of the person purchasing it,” I said. “And yes, Dylan’s the one in the navy suit.”
“You know what I think of that? I think gettin’ over someone requires you gettin’ under someone else,” Lizzie said.
“You would think that,” I said. “And at any rate, they are my brother’s friends as well as mine. Hunter would have my head on a platter if I stepped anywhere near them in that manner.”
“You know as well as I do that them country boys like ruinin’ the innocent girl-next-door. I’d take advantage of it. I bet Michael couldn’t fuck you like Dylan or Caleb could,” Lizzie said.
“I don’t want ‘Michael’ and ‘fuck’ to ever be in the same sentence ever again,” I said.
“What about, ‘Michael is the fucking pits’?” Whitney asked.
“Or, ‘Michael can fucking suck a dick’?” Lizzie asked.
“Or, ‘Michael can drive off a fucking cliff and die in a fucking pit of flames’?” Whitney asked.
“Okay, okay. I get it. You guys hate him. I’m not marrying him so we can get off it, right?” I asked.
“Just makin’ sure all them phrases was good,” Lizzie said.
We laughed as the hot water around us relaxed our bodies. I sank down to my chin, allowing the wine we had shared earlier to permeate throughout my body. I still missed my beer, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to drink it as of yet. It had tasted so good going down that afternoon that I was afraid I would lose myself again.
Lose myself to the drinking I once did in college, and unleash a side of me I’ve locked up for so many years.
Suddenly, a door opened. I turned my head toward the sound and saw the brothers walking out of the changing room. They were clad in bathing suits, their muscles chiseled and flexing as they walked toward the hot tub. They all looked at me as they made their way for us, their legs flexing with strength and their arms pulsing with protruding veins.
Wyatt was first in line and I couldn’t help but stare. He was the shortest of the brothers, though still being over six feet didn’t exactly qualify for “short.” His shoulders were incredibly broad and his well-muscled chest tapered off in a delicious V that pointed toward the goods he packed in his swim trunks.
Caleb and Andrew followed side-by-side. They each stood around six three and boasted well-defined pecs. Though not as broad of shoulder as Wyatt, they were still big boys, with well-muscled arms and thick thighs that had me drooling.
Bringing up the rear was Dylan. His eyes and hair were the darkest of all of them, and the silver threaded through his temples showed that he was the oldest. He was also the tallest, standing damn near six foot six. He was more slender than his brothers but could still lift a fifty pound bag of feed just as easily as the next guy.
Haveeee mercy…
Oh, my gosh. They were going to get in with us.
“Mhm. Mhm. Mhmmmm. Aren’t you all lookin mighty fine today,” Lizzie said. “Got a question for ya.”
“Lizzie. Stop it,” Whitney said.
“I’m just wonderin’ if it’s against resort policy to drink in the hot tub, y’all. I wanna get us another bottle of wine. So is it?” Lizzie asked with a giggle.
“Usually, it is,” Dylan said as he got in. “But since there isn’t anyone here but us, and the three of you, I’d say go for it.”
“Wait. He’s serious?” Lizzie asked.
“I think he is,” I said with a grin.
“Just grab us some beers if you gonna get out,” Andrew said.
“A few, actually. Beers in the hot tub sounds nice,” Caleb said.
“Sounds like the good ol’ days,” Wyatt said.
“I don’t know what kinda ‘good ol’ days’ ya’ll had, but I didn’t have none of them days. So, bottle of wine and a shit-ton of beers. Got it,” Lizzie said.
“Can you make it a bottle of white wine?” Whitney asked.
“Wasn’t gonna bring that red shit that Katie chokes down,” Lizzie said. “Shit sucks.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind having a beer or two,” I said.
The tub fell silent as everyone turned their eyes toward me. Grins popped up on all the brothers’ faces as Whitney stared at me with her eyebrows hiked up on her head.
Lizzie threw her fist in the air as she scurried off, her feet carrying her fast for the bar across the hallway.
“Are you going to be okay?” Whitney asked.
“Yeah. One or two won’t hurt anything,” I said.
“Glad to see you settlin’ back into things,” Caleb said.
“How’re you feelin’?” Andrew asked.
“Better. Relaxed. This hot tub is wonderful. Do all of the resorts have one?” I asked.
“They do. A couple have multiple ones,” Dylan said. “Speaking of— Caleb? I just thought of a feature that could go in the South Carolina build.”
“We really talkin’ shop right now?” Caleb asked.
“Private hot tubs on the balconies for the suites,” Dylan said.
“Oh, shit. Good idea. I’ll log it away before the beer gets here,” Caleb said.
“New rule. When in a hot tub with hot women, stop fuckin’ talkin’ bout work,” Wyatt said.
“Language. After all, you did say that we were in the presence of beautiful women,” Dylan said, with a mischievous grin.
“Oh, he’s a charmer,” Whitney said.
“Women such as yourselves deserve nothing less,” Dylan said.
But even though he was speaking
to Whitney, his eyes were hooked onto me.
Lizzie came back with a cooler full of all the drinks we specified. The beer loosened up my body as well as my tongue, and soon the guys and I were talking as if nothing had changed. It brought back a lot of memories. I quickly found why I had fantasized about them all the time as a teenager. Why I was always masturbating to them and wishing they would kiss me. They were true gentleman with just a spark of wolfish nature. Not enough to make them seem like dogs, but enough to make you know you were wanted. I threw back my first beer without a second thought and was sipping on my second one as a flushed feeling of euphoria tumbled over my body.
The bubbles were popping against my skin, and the water felt like it was getting hotter.
I was relaxed. Loose. Unaware of worries that still plagued my subconscious mind.
It almost made me wonder what would’ve happened had I stayed, found a law school in the state and stuck by their sides. Would one of them have taken me in? Would I have ended up as part of the O’Conner clan? I never would’ve met Michael, and that would’ve been a good thing. But would I have ended up with one of them?
The thought ran through my mind all night as our party grew loud.
“You look wonderful in that suit,” Caleb said quietly.
“You haven’t seen me in it,” I said with a giggle.
“I have. You got out to go to the bathroom, and I couldn't take my eyes off you.”
“Now you know how I felt on all those fishing trips we took,” I said.
His eyes darkened as I clamped my mouth shut. What in the world had I admitted to?
“Katie? Want another beer?” Andrew asked.
“Nope. Two’s my limit now,” I said.
“This mornin’, you didn’t drink beer,” Andrew said. “You sure you don’t want another?”
“I’m sure. Have to keep myself under control,” I said.
“You know we got your back, right?” Andrew asked. “If you get rowdy, we got ya.”
“Doesn’t mean I should be,” I said. “But thank you. That means a lot.”
“You’re important. You should know someone’s lookin’ out for you.”
The comments kept coming all night long. Flirting and bantering. Drinking and laughing. It was more fun than I’d had in years, and it came as no shock to me that the brothers would be at the center of it all. Things felt natural with them. Fluid and familiar. I found myself floating around to each of them, feeling their hands somewhere along my body before I floated over to another. It was the first time I’d felt any other man’s hands on my body but Michael’s, and I found myself enjoying their attention and their light touches and the caresses of their fingertips.
But I could tell Whitney wasn’t happy one bit.
And I knew I’d hear about it in the morning.
CHAPTER 5
ANDREW
Holy fuck.
The hot tub party got fuckin’ nuts. Girls in bikinis slinging back beers and bottles of wine. It was fuckin’ paradise. And, the best part was Katie.
Man, she looked fuckin hot. Hotter than I’d ever seen her. Her blonde hair had been piled high onto her head, leaving her long luscious neck exposed. What I wouldn’t have given to run my tongue along it’s curve.
Her breasts were high and full and I’d wondered how the weight of them would feel in my hands. It was all I could do to keep myself from running my fingers along the generous curve of her hip when she’d come to sit with me. Dammit, I was in trouble.
She was relaxing and enjoying her time, though I could tell her friend Whitney was a little on the irritated side about her opening up some beers. What was the issue? Katie slung them back all the time in high school with us. Her tolerance was through the roof. And even if Katie did get rowdy, what country girl in daisy dukes and boots didn’t?
In all honesty, I didn’t like Whitney. She seemed to be too controlling of Katie. The way she was looking at her in the hot tub when Katie was drinking those beers didn’t sit right with me. It was like she was shaming Katie for getting back to her roots.
That rubbed me the wrong way, and once Whitney started draping herself over all the guys, that was the last straw for me.
But I wasn’t going to tell Katie that.
Work hard, play hard was my mantra.
And Katie deserved to fucking party it up.
We all helped the girls stumble to Katie’s suite. Figured they’d all want to crash together. When I woke up early that morning with a pounding head and a desperate need for water, I knew the girls would wake up in much the same condition.
After popping some medicine and chugging two bottles of water, I made my way to their suite. It was my damn day off, and I was going to make the best of it. Katie was in town with two friends, and they were celebrating Katie not marrying some asshole she met in the city.
That was an occasion I wanted to celebrate, too.
I stole some food from the kitchen and made my way to their room. I set out juice and water as well as a full bottle of Tylenol for them to have when they woke up. I started frying up some bacon and sizzling some sausage, boiling some grits and scrambling some cheesy eggs. Katie ate the shit out of cheesy eggs. It was always her go-to breakfast want. Their suite was filled with the sweet sounds and smells of breakfast as I heard them stirring, stretching, and bitching about their heads.
They were pretty drunk the night before. Wyatt had to carry Lizzie to the damn elevator, and Katie was draped around my shoulder. Whitney was volleying herself between Dylan and Caleb, which made for a lot of giggling fits as we rode up to their room. The night had been fun, but this morning, the consequences reared their ugly heads.
The girls were hungover as fuck and begging for their lives.
“Lord help me, I’m dying,” Lizzie said.
“Shut up. Your voice hurts,” Whitney said.
“There’s a man in our kitchen,” Lizzie said. “The fuck’s that?”
“It’s Andrew,” Katie said.
I turned my head at the sound of her voice as she came shuffling out of her room. She looked like hell. Hair matted to her face and her eyes all red and puffy. Leaning against the doorway like she was still half-drunk. Whitney groaned as she peeled herself out of bed as Lizzie flopped down at the kitchen table, and Katie closed her eyes while she held her head.
“Got some Tylenol on the table. Come sit on down. Breakfast is ready,” I said.
“God bless you for all this,” Lizzie said.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Whitney said.
But all Katie did was stumble to the table and plop down heavily into a chair.
The girls passed around Tylenol and juice as I put food on their plates. I wasn’t a cook like Dylan, but I learned my way around a kitchen. Living as a single man will force that on anyone, especially if he doesn’t want to eat garbage the rest of his life. Whitney and Lizzie dug in, stuffing their mouths and moaning at the delicious food on their plates.
But Katie sat there, her eyes closed and her head still in her hands.
I washed up the dishes as Lizzie and Whitney talked. They were trying to get Katie to engage, but she kept shutting them up. Man. She must’ve felt worse than she looked, and my heart went out to her.
I wish I could’ve taken her pain away from her.
“I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” Lizzie said. “Whitney. Wanna help?”
“With you taking a shower?” Whitney asked.
“Just come on,” Lizzie said. “Get better at reading signals, city girl.”
Lizzie tossed me a wink as she dragged Whitney back into a bedroom, then the door shut with a slam as Katie groaned.
“Anythin’ I can get you?” I asked. “Coffee? More Tylenol? A morphine drip?”
“Death? Death sounds good,” Katie said.
“Not on your life, pretty lady.”
“Haven’t been called that in a long time.”
“Which tells me you made the right choice. Any man at your side should remind
you how beautiful you are on a daily basis,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh.
“For what?”
“For whatever embarrassing thing I did last night.”
“Nothin’ embarrassin’ for you to be apologizin’ about,” I said.
“I’m sure there was something. When I wake up like this, it’s always something.”
“I promise, you did nothin’ wrong. I haven’t seen you have fun like that in a long time. I’m glad you got to have some finally.”
“Any reason your voice dropped a whole octave there?” she asked.
There was, but I wasn’t sure if I should’ve been talking about it with a woman recuperating from one heartache already. Even if I tip-toed around it, I’d be walking a fine line. Risking ruining my friendship with her over some fantasy I had one time at a fucking bonfire. But ever since I’d held her close in my arms that night, I couldn’t get her out of my mind. My attraction to her had always been strong, but she was “little Katie,” and that was that. I wasn’t no pervert, and I wasn’t fixing to start then.
But last night, in the hot tub, things got intense. The flirting got real, and her body started pressing into everyone, and she stayed in my arms longer than most. She curled into me with her soft curves and her string bikini, and I could feel her pressing deeper into my chest. My arms fell around her, cloaking her and trying to soak up as much of her as I could before she pushed away.
“Andrew?”
I shook my head, pulling myself from my trance.
“What was that?” I asked.
“I said, ‘thank you for breakfast.’ It was very kind of you to come in here and cook for us.”
“Well, I don’t cook like Dylan can, but your friends ate it so it must’ve not been bad.”
“I’ll get to eating it once my headache goes away.”
“Take another Tylenol. You only took two,” I said. “You can take a third one. Won’t kill ya.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Not a problem. I’d love to stay and chat, but I figured I’d leave y’all to recuperate. I’m off today, but if you need anythin’, Dylan’s got the front desk again downstairs.”
“Got any plans for your day?”
“I’m plannin’ the family reunion.”