Love At First Taste
Love Comes First Book Three
Olivia T. Turner
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Epilogue
Epilogue
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Copyright© 2020 by Olivia T. Turner.
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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, businesses, companies, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Edited by Karen Collins Editing
Cover Design by Olivia T. Turner
For Cindy from Book Club,
Your last pick sucked but your Rice Krispy Squares rocked, so I’ll let it slide.
Chapter One
Luke
“I don’t know what you boys have been doing up here,” Brooke says with a wide grin on her lips as she walks into the conference room with two huge brown bags of take-out under her arms, “but keep doing it!”
We all laugh as she lays the take-out on the huge table. As always, it’s a fight for the Sesame Beef and General Tao Chicken.
Eli elbows me as I grab the box of Breaded Shrimp. “Don’t eat all of that!” he snaps.
“What are you going to do about it?” I say as I open the box and shove three of them into my mouth, never taking my eyes off him. We all inherited the big muscular gene from our father, but I’m the biggest Cline brother in the room. Eli is the smallest, but for some reason, he’s always picking fights with me. I think he likes to get beaten up.
“Let’s eat before you guys start wrestling on the table again,” Westin says as he lays out his napkin on the table and carefully places his chopsticks down.
“Seriously, boys,” Brooke says as she sits at the head of the table and puts her feet up. She’s playing with her black hair as she watches us massacre the food. “That was quite the dividend check.”
My three brothers and I own and operate Cline Investments, Real Estate, & Holdings, or Cline Corp for short. Our younger sister Brooke owns a fifth of the company but her heart is in another arena. She’s an actress and only collects the checks. The checks that have been significantly larger lately.
“Your big brothers are money-making machines,” Nolan says before sucking up a thick noodle.
Brooke is shaking her head, staring at us in disbelief. “Dad would be so proud of you guys.”
“Nah,” Eli says, but he’s looking down at the table getting misty-eyed.
“He would have been,” Brooke continues. “You took the company he started on top of the washing machine in our garage and look at what you’ve built.”
“Thanks, sis,” I say, smiling at her. “It means a lot.”
“And we’re just getting started,” Westin says with that killer look in his eye. He’s always been the one to push the rest of us whenever we’re lagging. He’s a hard ass, but we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.
Sometimes, I wonder if that would have been a good thing. I’m not suited to city life like the rest of my siblings are. Eli loves flying around the East Village in his Ferrari, Nolan is in heaven doing laps in his pool over his penthouse suite, Westin loves being in Manhattan which he calls the financial center of the universe, and Brooke, well Brooke is in her natural habitat with New York’s elite, promenading from a fashion show to an exclusive art gallery opening to the latest trendiest club in Soho, usually all in the same night.
I’ve been here for years and I’m starting to realize it’s just not for me. Too much concrete and too many people. I like being in nature. Trees, sand, rocks, mountains, lakes, oceans, anything that wasn’t manmade. That’s where I want to be.
I work a lot, which keeps me busy, but whenever I do get out to a club or bar, I have a hard time finding anything in common with Manhattan girls. Sometimes, I feel like I’m in the wrong place and am just trying to fake it to fit in.
I’m thirty years old and I don’t know how much longer I can do it.
“We’re going to start analyzing new markets,” Westin says as I grab a couple of spring rolls. “It’s time to expand Cline Corp larger than Dad ever dreamed it would be.”
“I doubt he thought it would get this big,” Brooke says as she looks out the window at the spectacular view of New York City at night. We’re on the top floor of a Manhattan skyscraper and the city looks beautiful with the lights shining in autumn.
“Remember the first order form he filled out?” Nolan says and we all laugh. “His writing was all shaky from filling it out on the dryer while Mom did the laundry.”
We all smile as we reminisce about the good old days. That order form is framed in the lobby of our office, but we’re so busy all the time that it’s probably been years since any of us stopped to look at it.
“Let’s get to the agenda,” Westin says as he wipes his hand on a napkin and opens his laptop.
“I thought this was a family dinner,” Brooke says as she grabs a spring roll and picks at it.
“We’re at work.”
“We’re always at work,” I say with a sigh.
“Exactly,” Westin grunts. “So, let’s get to work.”
“It is nine o’clock on a Thursday,” Nolan says as he shakes his head.
Westin ignores all of us. “So, as we all know, unfortunately, Mr. Brown died last month.”
We all drop our eyes as silence fills the room. Mr. Brown was our biggest client who invested nine figures with us. He was a very conservative man and we almost lost his business twice. Once when he caught Nolan nailing his pretend date on an antique car, and the second time was when he caught Eli and Carrie going at it on the seventeenth hole of a golf course during his charity tournament. It’s a good thing we have the best returns around or he would never have let us keep his business.
“His son Gabriel has taken over the company,” Westin continues. “He has a sister named Victoria who is going to be half-owner, but she won’t be running it at this time.”
“Let’s hope Gabriel is half as good at business as his old man,” Nolan says with a sigh. “Or, it could put a big dent in our paychecks.”
“Exactly,” Westin says. “We have to keep a close eye on him. Which brings me to my next topic. He’s getting married and he’s invited us to his bachelor party. On a yacht. In the Caribbean.”
Nolan is already shaking his head. “Arya is going to kill me if I leave her with a newborn so I can go party on a yacht. Hard no for me.”
“Me too,” Eli says. “I’m not leaving my pregnant wife to watch a bunch of strippers shake their asses. Not going to happen.”
“Only one of us has to go,” Nolan says as he scratches his head with his pen. “That person can represent all of us.”
Brooke laughs as she watches me and Westin stare each other down.
“Who is it going to be?” she says in a voice that sounds like
she’s narrating a nature documentary. “Luke, the man who is the size of a gorilla with the heart of a teddy bear, or Westin, the cold-calculating workaholic who prefers numbers to human connection? Let’s standby and watch these two alpha males battle it out.”
“Not it!” we both shout at the same time.
“We can’t pick Luke,” Eli says with a shake of his head.
Westin frowns. “Why not?”
“Do you know how many pools are in the Caribbean?”
“So?”
“So? Luke pees in pools.”
Nolan and Brooke laugh as I throw my arms in the air. “One time! I was seven years old for fuck’s sake. When are you going to get over that?”
Eli turns to me with a serious face. “I swam in your urine, Luke. Never.”
“We can’t send Westin either,” Nolan interrupts. “He’ll probably spend the whole bachelor party giving tax advice to the stripper.”
“That’s true,” Brooke says with a giggle. “Did you know they can write off underwear and glitter?”
“Fine,” I say with a frustrated huff of breath. “I’ll go. I need to get out of this city for a bit anyway. But I’m taking the jet.”
“You’re not taking the jet!” Westin snaps.
“Fine, then I’m not going.”
Westin frowns. “Fine. Take the jet.”
“Just don’t pee in any pools,” Eli says as he turns to me with a frown. “Or Cline Corp will get a bad review on Yelp and it will be all your fault.”
“Are we all done with the food?” I ask as I look around the table. “Can I beat his ass now?”
They all nod, so I jump on him.
Chapter Two
Luke
Our company jet touches down in Miami and I take a limo to the docks. Gabriel’s best man chartered a yacht for four days. We’re boarding here and then heading to Nassau in the Bahamas for the first stop.
I don’t know any of these guys, so I don’t know what to expect. I’m really hoping it’s not a glorified fishing boat where we all have to take turns sleeping on the same hard bed.
“Sir,” the limo driver says as the window between us rolls down. “We have arrived at the destination.”
“Holy. Shit,” I whisper as I stare out the window in awe. It’s not just Gabriel who’s loaded. His friends have money too. A lot of money.
I gulp as I step out of the limo and look up at the largest yacht I’ve ever seen. Picture a luxurious yacht in a hip hop video, well, this yacht would eat that one for breakfast.
“I got it, man,” I say to the driver as I take my bag from him. I stuff a hundred-dollar bill into his front pocket and head over to where a bunch of guys are sitting on the hood of a Lamborghini that only comes out next year but somehow, they have one. They’re chugging special edition Dom Pérignon, which costs about ten grand a bottle.
“Luke!” Gabriel shouts as he approaches with open arms. He’s dressed up nicely with an open-collared shirt, white pants, and designer sunglasses on top of his slicked-back dark hair. He gives me a quick hug and wraps his arm over my shoulder as he brings me over to the guys. They all look preppy and rich. The kind of guys me and my brothers would have been more likely to fight than hang around with in our youth.
Gabriel introduces me to all twelve of them and when he’s finished, I’m swimming in names that I can’t quite remember. The only one that sticks is Noah, a skinny guy in a loose hemp shirt with a long beard, Gucci leather loafers, and a gold Rolex on his wrist. He can’t seem to pick which style to commit to—preppy or hipster. I only remember his name because he’s the best man and is the one throwing this extravagant party.
“This guy and his bros are the best investors on the planet!” Gabriel says, already more than a bit tipsy. “He’s paid for all this!”
They all jump up and slap my back, treating me like a rockstar as I’m handed a champagne flute. Ugh. Ten grand a bottle and it’s not even good.
I helped grow the money, but it was his father’s brains and hard work that made it all possible. I doubt the conservative Mr. Brown would have approved of this lavish spending.
“So, you’re getting married!” I say to him. “Who’s the lucky girl?”
“I got drunk and fell down some stairs,” he says with a laugh. “I chipped my tooth and when I woke up from my haze, I saw the most beautiful dental technician in the world hovering over me. She looked like an angel and I knew I was in love.”
He’s a bit of a douche with the fancy car and expensive champagne, but I can’t help but have a pang in my heart when I hear the story. I want a love story like that. A love that hits me like a jolt of lightning and never lets up.
“Gentleman,” Noah says as he raises his arms. “Our chariot awaits. Let’s get on board.”
I’m laughing along with the guys as we hop onto the huge yacht. It’s unbelievable. I keep expecting a rich Arab prince to pop out and ask us what the hell we’re doing on his boat.
I run my hand over the smooth polished teak as we walk to the pool area. Two tall skinny blond guys named Eivind and Knut, brothers from Norway, take our bags.
There’s hip hop blasting over the speakers as we arrive at the gorgeous pool and huge bar with the ocean backdrop behind it.
“Yeah!” the guys holler as six topless girls dance out of a room. Tits are swinging and g-strings are pulled up as they dance over with beers in their hands. They hand us each one and then with winks and blown kisses, they head over to the bar and start dancing on top of it.
“I told you boys this was going to be a lit party!” Noah shouts before chugging his beer.
I force out a smile, but this is not what I had in mind. I’m not interested in any strippers. I’m ready to move on from that phase in a man’s life.
Two of them start making out and the guys cheer. Now, I really wish that Westin had come instead of me. If anything, I would have loved to have seen the look of disapproval on his face when he saw those high heels walking on the immaculate teak floors.
“Are these girls going to be with us the whole time?” I ask one of the guys—Kevin or Karl or something that starts with a K.
“I hope so!” he says as he rushes over to the bar. The female bartender is lining up shots. She’s a pretty girl if you’re into piercings. She’s got them everywhere—lips, eyebrows, nose, and enough in her ears to sink the Titanic.
I take a deep breath and look around. This yacht is really incredible. Something only a billionaire could afford, or a millionaire who won’t be a millionaire for long if they keep burning money like this.
While the guys are doing the shots and dancing with the strippers, I head inside to find a room. There’s a carved nameplate on the side of each door. Kevin. Marcus. Luke.
I grin as I head inside. They gave me one of the two master suites, complete with a bathroom, fireplace, and a walk-in closet.
The music is vibrating through the floor as I gaze out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the water. This beats New York City any day even if I do have to share it with a bunch of men stuck in their college days.
“Knock knock,” a guy with a thick Norwegian accent says as he stands at the door. “I have your bag here, sir.”
“Thanks, Knut,” I say as I get off the bed, looking at his name tag as I take my bag from him. “Hey, do you know if these girls are going to be staying with us the entire time?”
“They charge by the hour, so I certainly hope not,” he says with a goofy grin. “I suspect they will be left on the dock by the time we pull up anchor and sail away to the Bahamas.”
“When is that going to be?”
He looks at his watch and then shrugs. “When your friends get tired of them I suppose.”
I lay back on the bed and pull out my phone as he disappears down the hall. I text Westin.
LUKE
You owe me big time.
WESTIN
Is it a rowboat?
LUKE
Not even close. It’s a superyacht.
>
And it’s full of strippers.
WESTIN
A superyacht?!? Put your phone away and go schmooze. I want that business!
LUKE
You’re talking about the strippers, right?
WESTIN
Luke! Go get it!
I sigh as I slip my phone into my pocket and head back to the pool area. One of the girls is lying on the bar topless as the bartender pours tequila into her navel.
Gabriel licks the salt off her nipple, sucks the tequila out, and then takes the lemon between her lips as everyone cheers.
Two guys are in the pool, each with a topless stripper on their shoulders as they have a chicken fight. Noah and some other guys are dancing with the rest of the girls.
I look up behind me and see the Captain bobbing his head to the music as he watches the scene on his deck from the second-floor balcony. He’s an older guy with a big bushy gray mustache and a captain’s hat on his head.
There’s a girl standing beside him who looks annoyed as she watches. I only get a glimpse of her before she storms away, but that glimpse sears itself into my brain. It’s enough to shock me to my core.
My heart starts beating like crazy as I try to hold the fading image of her in my head. She’s stunning. She’s spectacular.
“Whoa,” I whisper as I stare up at the empty spot on the balcony, unsure of what to do.
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck raise as I close my eyes and try to picture her again. Curly blonde hair. Defiant chin in the air. Wide hips that could rock me harder than this boat.
Love At First Taste: Love Comes First Book Three Page 1