Brothers of Paradise Series

I stop tugging and look up at him. “Mad man,” I say, and my hands rest against his back. The fabric of his T-shirt is soaked, molding my hands to his skin. It’s hot beneath my palms.

A slow smile spreads across his face. “I get why Emma likes it so much,” he murmurs.

Instinct and desire floods my system like a wave breaking, and without making the decision, I rise onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his.

They’re wet from the rain and unmoving beneath mine. I pull my head back. “Sorry, I-”

Parker bends his head and kisses me, and it’s wet, but it’s warm, and soft, and thorough. The arms that had been solid as stone at his sides wrap around me, a hand landing between my shoulder blades.

It’s a stranger’s mouth I’m kissing, a stranger’s hands on me. Not the Parker I’d always known, not Lily’s brother. The excitement of that sends my heart into overdrive.

He deepens the kiss and runs the hot end of a tongue over my lower lip. It’s been so long since anyone kissed me like that, and I come apart beneath it.

“Jamie,” he murmurs, and rests his lips at the corner of my mouth. His chest rises rapidly against my own.

I keep my eyes closed and turn my fingers into claws in his shirt. If I move from this, I’ll have to think about what I’ve done, and the wetness will go from exciting to cold.

It’s safest to never move.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Jamie,” he says again, and presses a kiss to my wet cheek.

I blink my eyes open to Parker’s dark blue. He’s not smiling now, his lips parted, breath coming quickly. “I’m sorry,” he says.

I blink again. “No… I was…”

He shakes his head and his hands, the strong, warm hands that can secure life vests on children and raise sails high, slide off my body. I let go of his T-shirt. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

It was me, I think. I started it.

I wrap my arms around myself, and I can feel my nipples, taut from the rain-soaked T-shirt and his closeness. Embarrassment sends heat to my cheeks. “No, no, it’s okay,” I say. “I think I like the rain too.”

A half-smile from him, and the old ease is back. He’s himself again, Parker Marchand, Lily’s older brother. The guy I’ve known forever. “And you called both Emma and me crazy.”

“Well, it’s a bit wild,” I say.

His smile widens and he takes a few steps backwards, away from the house, away from me. “You were always the wildest one,” he says.

I swallow hard. “Thanks for the food!”

“No,” he says. His clothes stick to him, the rain lashing on the sidewalk, and it doesn’t look like it bothers him in the least. “Thank you for tonight, Jamie!”

PARKER

I take the corner too fast, tires whining against the gravel, and the Jeep protests. Henry shoots me a look from the passenger seat. I ignore it.

I’ve been on edge all day.

From the backseat, Hayden clears his throat. I know he’s noticed it too. “So, he gave you a week to decide?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a good boat,” Henry says, “but it will take a lot of work.”

“Hours of work,” Hayden agrees. “That’s not a hobby, that’s a second job.”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. I know that. Had known it since I saw the beautiful sailing boat in the ad, the wooden decks and the sleek hull. She was a boat to be honored and cared for, but she was not an easy one. And she was gorgeous.

“She’s worth it,” I say.

Henry runs a hand over his jaw in thought. “I don’t know that I agree. It would lock you even more firmly in place in Paradise. Dad doesn’t use the Frida that much. Why don’t you stay the course?”

“Because Frida is all of ours,” I say, and then frown at the way that sounds. “Frida is beautiful. And last year Rhys and Ivy took her out for two weeks along the coast, Hay and Lily want to use her for day trips from April to October, and whenever you and Faye are in town you have first dibs.”

My words sound sour in the car, and my brothers don’t comment. I sigh. “Look, I didn’t mean it to sound begrudging. It’s the family’s boat, so that’s only fair. But I want a challenge, a boat of my own. Dad makes all final decisions on the Frida. Not us.”

“I get it,” Hayden says from the back, and I know he means that. He has a motorboat in the marina for the days he wants to take Lily out for a day of swimming and lunch, without having to ask his father-in-law first.

Henry shifts in his seat. My oldest brother is, like always, unable to be anything but the voice of reason. “Why wood, Parker? It’s hopeless.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s impractical.”

“It’s challenging.”

“Not everything has to be a challenge,” Henry says. And then, into the stunned silence, “I can’t believe I said that.”

That makes me chuckle. “You okay over there, New York’s youngest architect? You’ve never met a challenge you didn’t love.”

“I’m not that young anymore,” Henry says, “and you’re avoiding the subject.”

I think about the boat we’d just seen. The sleek lines, the weathered wood, the very boat screaming out for a loving touch. For careful improvements until she could sing along with the waves again. She was expensive, and neglected, and it would be a project to take care of. To nurture. To honor.

Like Jamie.

I force my hands to relax on the wheel. To not think of her lips on mine, the sharp grip of her hands on my T-shirt. Like she didn’t know if she wanted to push me away or pull me closer.

“What are you leaning toward?” Hayden asks.

They’d come with me to inspect it. Two sets of eyes are better than one, and three better still. Both of them know boats. Both of them have given me their opinion.

And yet it would be my project entirely. Evenings. Afternoons. Weekends.

I see Emma lying on the edge of the boat, Jamie sitting cross-legged behind her. But I blink the impossible image away. “I don’t know,” I say. “It’s a stunner. She’s built for speed and I want to buy her. But Henry’s right, too. She’s a damn inconvenient boat.”

“I hate to say it,” Henry says, “but you could get a newly built one. Speed, excellence, the first five years with barely any upkeep.”

Both Hayden and I groan.