Brothers of Paradise Series

I ask one of the employees to help me pick things out, and by the end, I leave the store with a giant basket filled to the brim with brushes, acrylics, rolled-up canvas and clay. It’s an assortment of everything I know she likes. Or liked, once upon a time.

She’s at work when I stop outside her little beach cottage, so I place the basket on her front step. I scribble something on a little card and place it on top, wedged in between a set of fan brushes and a sponge.

And then I drive away, feeling satisfied. It doesn’t matter how many times I say sorry-sorry for everything, for the other night, for leaving her ten years ago, for not staying in contact. It’s just words, and actions speak louder.

I just pray I didn’t screw everything up by kissing her.

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Hayden, 18

Lily is sitting in my lap, her hair a curtain around me, her smiling lips against mine. “Just stay.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Hayden…” She kisses me again, and I forget what we’re arguing about. That happens a lot these days. My hands trail down her back, finding anchor at her waist. She’s as familiar as the back of my hand and still as stunning as the dawn. Kissing her never stopped striking me silly.

I pull back, tipping her head so I can reach her neck. It hadn’t taken me long to realize that’s where she was the most sensitive.

Well… the most sensitive part I could get to while she was clothed. I feel her pulse flutter under my lips.

“Your grandma hates me,” I say. “If she wasn’t invited for Friday night dinner… then maybe.”

“That’s not true.”

“Lily, it’s absolutely true.”

Her breath is coming fast. “Okay, maybe, but so what? You’re one of us.”

Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. I might be accepted among the younger Marchands, and tolerated by their parents, but I was an absolute outsider among the extended family and their friends. The cuckoo in the nest.

“Come anyway,” she whispers. “Come for me.”

“Lily…”

“I won’t enjoy myself if you’re not there.”

For Lily, I’d brave the wolves and the devil himself.

“I’ll come by around dessert,” I murmur. “Just to say hi.”

She hums in pleasure against my lips. “Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“Good.” She kisses me again, achingly soft, her hands playing with the hair at the back of my neck. “I barely see you these days. I can’t spend the evening without you, too.”

“Mmm.” I know she dislikes my job on the fishing boat. She never says it, of course, but it took me away from Paradise Shores for hours on end, not to mention the occasional overnight trip. It sometimes got windy or stormy, too, and I knew she hated those times, imagining all the things that might happen at sea. My girl has too good of an imagination.

But it paid well. So well, in fact, that I’d more or less decided to skip the idea of the military or community college altogether. I could stay here and work for another year.

“What about Parker? Won’t he suspect something?”

Lily shakes her head. “We’ve managed to keep it a secret for weeks and weeks. Why would he?”

“I don’t hang out with him as much anymore,” I whisper, shifting so I can touch my lips to her collarbone. “He’s already asked me what’s taking up all my time. Twice.”

Lily’s fingers undo the first two buttons on her blouse. “Lie.”

I grin and watch as her bra is slowly revealed. White, prim cotton with a lace trim. Unbearably sexy. Her skin is tan from the summer sun, lightly sprinkled with freckles, her hair framing her beautiful neck. I kiss down the slopes of her breasts, toying with the idea of just getting the top and bra off her. But we’re short on time, and I don’t want her to ever feel rushed or used with me.

“I guess I’ll have to,” I say, thinking about Parker. It’s understandable that she doesn’t want him or her family knowing about us. It would only complicate things.

“Mmm.” Lily bites her lip, her eyes twinkling as she leans back to pull off her shirt. “Whoops?”

I shake my head at her, but my hands are already moving to the fastening of her bra. “We have very little time, baby.”

“Five more minutes.”

“All right. And then I’m out of here before your parents get back.”

She moves closer to me, a soft sigh of pleasure escaping her as we meet, skin to skin. “That’s a deal, Cole.”

In the end, I have to run, but it’s worth it. The scent of her hair and skin cling to me throughout the evening, reminding me of what I’ve somehow gained. Lily is too good for me-that’s true-but for the time being, I’ve decided to let myself dream that we are possible.

She wants me, just like I want her.

She likes me, just like I like her.

And for the first time in a very long time, I’m happy.

And if she wants me to show up to her family’s place for dessert… well, I’ll damn well try. I take a shower. I shave and get dressed, wearing the one button-down I own over my worn-out chinos. The only nicer shoes I have are my old boat shoes, inherited from Henry, but they’ll have to do.

Lily’s parents have always been kind to me. A reserved kindness, true, but still. I can’t imagine they’d be happy if they knew… But maybe they’d come around. But her grandmother, Evelyn? The first time she met me, she had asked if I was the pool boy. I’d been thirteen years old.

And the Marchands didn’t even have a pool.

She would hate me with Lily.

I pause on the lawn behind their house. The dining room is well-lit-I can see it from here. There has to be at least fifteen people in there. The whole clan and all of the extended relatives.

Great.

I usually go in through the back door, by the kitchen, and I head there now. The last thing I want is to open the front door and arrive smack dab in the middle of mingling Marchands in the foyer.

I reach the back door and it swings open on quiet hinges. I’d oiled them just two weeks earlier so they wouldn’t make a sound when I snuck out of from Lily’s bedroom.

I wipe off my shoes on the doormat and straighten the button-down. It’s been a hell of a long time since I’ve worn something like this. The house smells like pumpkin soup and cinnamon, and I close my eyes and just breathe. This house has never felt like home to me. It’s never been uncomplicated. But one day… one day, maybe I could have a home like this for myself.