Brothers of Paradise Series

He sighs, but the suggestion is dropped, thank God. The last thing we need is an unsupervised giant inflatable.

By the time they’ve nailed down the last details, the dinner service is almost through, and outside the rain is pouring down. It turns the ocean from a deep blue into a hazy grayness and lashes against our sea-facing windows. The group files out of the restaurant, my mom lingering just long enough to kiss me on the cheek.

“It looks great in here,” she says. “I heard about the new chef.”

“She’s just started, and she’s working on revamping the menu.”

Mom pats me on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see it, chéri. Your father sends his love.”

“Let him know I said hi.”

She nods and walks with measured movements toward the exit. She’s still a beautiful woman, and she knows it, carrying herself with the knowledge in every fingertip. On her way she passes Jamie. I see her, stopping and smoothing her hands over her uniform. But Mom doesn’t recognize her and disappears out the door without a second glance.

Jamie looks at me, relief on her face.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

I grin at her. “A narrow escape.”

She pretends to wipe her forehead. “I can’t believe she didn’t recognize me.”

“You’ve changed a bit since she saw you last,” I say. “The hair… the clothes.” I tap the side of my nose. “Your ring.”

“God, the nose ring. I was edgy.”

“The edgiest,” I agree.

“I had to express my frustrations with the world somehow, you know?”

“Of course,” I say seriously. “What better way to make a political stand than a piercing?”

Jamie pretends to aim a kick my way. “Watch it,” she says. “Your big brothers aren’t here to defend you.”

My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. “Defend me? Oh, the insult.”

Her eyes are alight with life. “Whoops.”

“Come here, you-” I don’t know what I’m planning to do, advancing with my arms out. She laughs and backs away.

Then she freezes, her eyes on something behind me. I straighten and she does the same. Back to professionalism.

“Sorry,” she says.

“It’s my bad.” I glance behind me, but all I see is Kylie, one of the waitresses hired for the summer. She looks away from us as soon as she sees me watching.

Jamie shrugs. “I should get going.”

“Your shift’s over?”

“Just ended.”

I glance at the windows. The rain doesn’t think in shifts, it seems, and it’s pouring down like the sky’s cracked itself wide open. “On your bike?”

“Yes,” she says, and runs a hand over her thigh. “Even if I can barely move my legs.”

“That sore?”

“I feel like I was just run over by a truck,” she says dryly, and looks at me like I’m entirely to blame.

I laugh. “You’ll feel worse tomorrow, but the day after? You’ll feel better than you did before the workout. Now come on.”

“Come where?” she asks behind me.

“I’ll drive you home.” I’m already heading for the exit.

“Parker, you don’t have to do that.”

“I know. But we’re going in the same direction anyway,” I say. As if I’d let her bike in the pouring rain.

Jamie’s face is unreadable for a moment, but then she nods. “Okay. Let me get my bag.”

I grab one of the yacht club’s old umbrellas and put her bike in the trunk of the Jeep. By the time we make it into the car, my shoulders are wet and her hair lies damp around her face.

“Shit, it’s pouring out there.”

“Monsoon style.” I put the car in drive and look over at her, sitting there in my passenger seat. I don’t know if this has ever happened before. If old me would have believed it if it had. Her legs are bare beneath the pencil skirt of her uniform, stretched out in the Jeep’s ample leg room. “How’s Emma doing?”

“She’s probably begging my mother to let her run around in the backyard right now,” Jamie says dryly, but there’s warmth in her tone.

“She loves rain?”

“Adores it,” Jamie says. “Parker…”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you so much for your idea with the boat the other day. She had a blast.”

I focus on the windshield wipers. “She did?”

“Yes. She drew another ship last night, and she put all of us on the boat.”

“Oh,” I say. It hits me right beneath the breastbone, and my hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Yes. Don’t worry,” Jamie says, amusement in her voice, “she gave you a huge captain’s hat.”

“A captain’s hat?”

“Yes. Like Captain Hook.”

“Give it to me straight,” I say. “Did I also get the hand?”