Brothers of Paradise Series

I wait with bated breath, and just a few seconds later, the dots appear that indicate he’s typing.

Henry Marchand: I’m not sure if I’m supposed to be happy or confused by your sudden friendship with my sister. Do you have a new favorite Marchand?

Faye Alvarez: Intimidated. You’re supposed to feel intimidated.

Henry Marchand: I’ll just have to raise my game then. This won’t stand.

Faye Alvarez: Competitive much?

Henry Marchand: To my very core, Faye. Planning on staying there late?

Faye Alvarez: When does your thing end? What are you doing, by the way? Strip club?

Henry Marchand: I asked first. And no, there are no strip clubs in Paradise Shores, last time I checked. Do you know a good one?

Faye Alvarez: I’ll be home around midnight, I think. Lily wants to try to get some sleep before tomorrow.

Henry Marchand: Good. We’ll get Hayden in bed around then too.

I smile at the phone. I have no clue what we are, what’s happening, why I’m really here. And for the first time in my life, maybe I should just let myself roll with that instead of fighting it. Be more like Henry was at sea. Still and calm.

It’s a quarter to midnight when I finally walk from Lily’s house to the little cottage next door, which is also her house. These people are lovely, despite having some serious privilege.

I unlock the front door. “Hello?”

The cottage is empty, but Henry said he’d be home soon. I put on the kettle to make tea and change into my camisole and silk shorts-thank God Jessie had convinced me to get the set months ago.

I brush my hair out, leaving it long and loose down my back. I’ve noticed how his eyes, even when they’re professional and reserved, stray to my hair like he can’t help himself. Henry arrives not ten minutes later. A taxi stops outside, and then I hear his key in the lock.

He stops in the door. His shirt is unbuttoned at the top, his thick hair unusually messy.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“Faye?”

“That’s me.” I take a sip of my tea and tuck my legs underneath me on the couch. “I just got home.”

He tosses the keys on the hallway table. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yes. Your sister’s friends were really sweet. And a bit crazy, actually. But mostly sweet.”

“Good. I was worried.”

“Worried?”

“Well, letting you off on your own like that. Who knows what they might have told you, or worse, you them.”

I grin at him. “Afraid of me spilling all your New York secrets?”

“Deadly afraid,” he says.

“There’s hot water in the kitchen if you’d like tea.”

“Thank you,” he says, but he doesn’t go there. He sinks into the armchair opposite me instead.

“How was your evening?”

“Wild,” he says. “We took Hayden around Paradise Shores and made him relive all kinds of memories. Beer was involved. A fair bit of whiskey. He doesn’t drink, but he’s still damn good at getting the rest of us to do so.”

“And not a stripper in sight.”

“Not a single one,” he agrees, running a hand through his hair. “A few of his old buddies from the Navy were there, and after hearing them speak, I think Parker is reevaluating his life choices.”

I chuckle. “But not you?”

“Not tonight, anyway. I’m happy with mine at the moment.” He leans back and looks at me through hooded eyes. His long legs are stretched out before him, arms curled over the armrests.

“Except hiring me, of course,” I point out. “You mentioned earlier today that was a mistake.”

He tips his head toward me. “You heard that?”

“Yeah.”

“It was a mistake,” he says, voice heated. “But I’m not finding myself regretting it.”

Our gazes catch and hold, and something in me tightens at the look in his. He might have turned me down yesterday, but he definitely meant what he said earlier. It wasn’t for lack of want-because that’s clear in his darkened eyes.

I wet my lips. “We should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s the big day.”

“Mmm,” he says. “Showtime.”

Neither of us moves.

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“As well as could be expected, yes. You?”

“All right. The bed is very big. A lot bigger than I have at home, actually.”

“Oh?”

I nod. What are we even talking about?

“Did you have a lot to drink tonight?”

“A bit. Why? Did you?”

His eyes look glazed, but I don’t think it’s with alcohol. “Yes. But I’m not drunk.” He stands, his form towering over me. “Come on. Let’s go to sleep.”

I take his extended hand, the skin warm against mine. Shivers travel up my arm. “Together?”