AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I smile as a few clatters and bangs ring around the terrace, a sign of James getting up from his chair quickly. “Your wife owns Winstable,” I say over my shoulder. “And I’m going to buy it from her.” It’ll be back in the family—the original boatyard. I’m smiling when I hear Otto and Goldie’s collective curses.
“Why the hell don’t I know about this?” James asks, as I join Brad on the steps, getting a closer look at the red marks decorating his back. And his arms too. Ouch.
“That’s some damage you’ve got there,” I say, ignoring James.
“What?” Brad frowns, his wetsuit halfway up his body.
“Your back. Your arms.”
“Danny,” James presses, putting himself between us, unimpressed and uninterested in Brad’s war wounds. “Why the fuck didn’t I know about it?”
“It’s between me and Beau.”
“Fuck that. I should have known.”
“From me or Beau?”
“Both of you.”
Brad bats his eyes between us, interested, almost goading. “Are we getting on the waves today or are you two bitches gonna carry on bitching over your bitches?”
We turn to Brad, both of us ready to rip his head off. Until we see there’s no need. Absolutely no need at all. I feel a smile pull at the corners of my mouth as the dumb fuck gets his arms into his wetsuit with a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. Something tells me this is a show. Don’t tell me that with the addition of a few vicious fingernails he’s cured and his winning, irritating-as-fuck personality is back. I’m not buying it. But, whatever. He’s about to have his arse handed to him on a plate.
Brad looks between us, his smile slowly falling, and I follow James’s lead, folding my arms over my chest.
“What?” he asks.
I help him out, nodding my head in indication.
He looks over his shoulder. “Oh.”
“Bitches?” Beau asks.
“Bitches?” Rose mimics, disgusted.
My eyes bounce back and forth between Brad and the girls, James’s too, both of us amused. Beau moves in, and I see James’s body engage. “Beau,” he warns, but he’s too late. She dips, spins, and swipes Brad’s feet from beneath him, sending him to his back on a wince-worthy thud.
“Fuck,” Brad gasps, winded, as Rose cackles and James shakes his head, annoyed but satisfied.
Beau moves in and stands over him, her jaw rolling. “Who was in your room this morning?”
“Fuck off.” He gets to his feet and grimaces. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t be going all Lara in your condition.”
James grunts his agreement, his grievance with Brad now redirected at his wife. She rolls her eyes. Worse thing she could do. “I’m fine.”
“I’m taking you home,” James declares, taking her elbow.
“I can’t go home.” She wriggles out of his hold. “I have a meeting with The Brit.” She looks at Brad. “And you.”
I’m falling apart on the inside. Until something occurs to me. I find Rose. “What are you doing here?”
My wife, God love the front on that woman, raises her nose, a certain edge of superiority emerging I’m sure I don’t like. “I’m here in an official capacity.”
“What?”
“I’m Beau’s advisor.” She swans past, pulling out a note pad. A fucking note pad. “Where’s the meeting being held?”
“In a torture chamber,” I growl. Brad’s now the one laughing. Wanker. “Why’d you bring her?” I ask Beau as I look back at Rose. “And where’s our baby?”
