Brothers of Paradise Series

I smile at the affection warming his voice. Nothing about Henry is truly cold or aloof, not like I’d once thought.

“She has three older brothers, which I know wasn’t easy on her growing up. But she’s never complained.”

“You have two brothers, too?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re the oldest?”

His face turns wry. “It’s that obvious, is it?”

“Sort of, yes. You have the vibe.” It’s not hard to imagine him taking the lead, being the organizer, the responsible one. I bet his siblings look up to him.

“So I’ve been told,” he says.

“Will they also be at the wedding?”

“Yes. And I should tell you that I’m one of the groomsmen. During the ceremony itself, you’ll be seated with my parents and cousins, but I’ll be by your side for the rest of the evening. I hope that’s not a problem?”

The warmth in my chest expands even further, until I’m feeling far too many things, all of them silly. Siblings. Cousins. Growing up, it had just been my parents and me, and while I love them dearly, his words paint an irresistible picture.

“Of course not. Do you know the groom well, then?”

He snorts. “You could say that. We grew up with him, in a way. Lily and Hayden were close in age and got along well.”

“That’s beautiful.”

He’s quiet for a beat, and I wonder if I’ve said something wrong, but then he gives a slow nod. “Yes, I suppose it is, in a way.”

“You don’t think so?”

“He… well, he was in that car accident as well. He was the one driving, actually. Let’s just say my parents didn’t handle it well. And then he was gone for a long time, serving in the Navy, and my sister was unhappy.” He shakes a hand, dismissing years of family history. “But that’s a story for some other day.”

I’m curious, but I just nod. “And we’re meeting them tonight?”

“Yes, for dinner. It’ll be a short affair, and we’ll arrive with plenty of time to spare to work beforehand.”

“Perfect.”

We drive in comfortable silence the rest of the way, the time peppered by casual conversation that isn’t stilted or forced at all. Somehow, the further away from the city we get, the less I feel like we’re our office selves. We’ve shed the suit and the pencil skirt, and we’re just Henry and Faye, equals.

It’s scary how much I enjoy it.

My nerves return as we drive into Paradise Shores, two hours later. We drive past beautiful old houses with green lawns and wrap-around porches. Old oak trees rise up like guardians, their twisted branches reaching for the sky. Colonial. Georgian. Victorian. Style after style, we pass houses with turrets, shutters, porches.

“Well,” I say, “I get why you’re into architecture if you grew up here.”

Henry chuckles. “I have yet to build anything that looks like this, but maybe one day.”

We pass a beautiful little square with a playground, two parents swinging a laughing child between them. Its idyllic old money, it’s the Hamptons on steroids, pretty like a postcard and just as unattainable.

And then the ocean appears. Hidden behind trees and a boardwalk, but shimmering blue nonetheless, endless and ageless.

Henry lets out a slow breath. “This place never changes,” he murmurs.

We drive along the shoreline, through a little town center, and I want to turn down my window and breathe in the air here. Somehow, I think it might smell like candied apples, like sea salt and money.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

Henry pulls up on the driveway to a seaside cottage, complete with blue shutters and blooming hydrangeas.

“We’re staying here?”

“Yeah.”

“This isn’t a hotel,” I protest.

He chuckles again and turns off the engine. Parked, apparently. “Nope.”

“I thought we were staying in a hotel.”

He opens the trunk and grabs both of our bags. “No, this is my sister’s house.”

My nerves come out in full force. “We’re meeting them now?”

“No, this house is just for us.” He unlocks the front door, and I follow him inside. It’s beautifully decorated. Homely, but with rustic, seaside details-and not in a kitschy way either. A large kitchen and a cozy living room. Two bedrooms, both with double beds, freshly made.

I’m floored. “They gave you a whole house? Don’t they have a lot of guests coming in?”

Henry shoots me a crooked smile. “Yes, but I am the oldest son, you know.”

The dramatic superiority in his voice makes me smile too. “She doesn’t live here?”

“No, she lives in the house next door with her fiancé.”

“Ah,” I say softly, running my hand over the rough linen texture of the couch. The kind of money needed to purchase these seaside houses feels staggering, somehow so much more real than the millions the skyscrapers I regularly work on cost to build. Corporations pay for those-not people.

Henry sees my expression and pauses, his weekend bag in hand. With his thick hair and the casual linen shirt, here in this beige oceanside cottage, he looks like he belongs in an ad. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes. Yes, absolutely.”

“You have nothing to worry about, you know. If you decide you don’t want to attend a dinner or event this weekend, it’s your call. I won’t hold you to anything.”

He’s giving me an out from the contract we’d both signed. I release a shaky breath and shake my head. “No, I’m ready. It’ll be fun. I’ve just never really been introduced to a boyfriend’s family like this, you know. And definitely not at a wedding. Not that you’re my boyfriend, obviously. You’re my boss.”

Henry’s mouth curves into a smile. “You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. It’s adorable. The great Faye Alvarez, ambitious and cutthroat architect, gets nervous. It’s headline worthy.”