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Taz’s voice is too low for the photographer to hear. “You want to lay across my front?”
He tucks his finger around my hand and guides it to his hips. My eyes go wide. Taz’s erection is huge. Would I be better off finding a cabana boy for my first time?
Next thing I know, hands are all over my body, my feet are out from under me, and my brothers have done as the photographer asked.
“That’s adorable,” Mom says, so I presume Taz’s arousal is no longer evident. Or it will be one of those things no one notices until we’re looking at the photographs with Aunt Edna. I make a mental note to go with mom to review the proofs.
Aside from being conscious of every single point of contact from fingertips pressing into my skin to my backside spanning the three hottest men I’ve ever met, I compose myself and survive the remainder of the family photos.
And with only three days on this island, I can’t waste any time approaching my new brothers about my plan.
Pose. Smile. Rethink my sanity. Repeat.
Seven
Cheri
Because our parents didn’t have time to invite extended family and friends, they opened their reception in the party palapa to everyone at the resort. The dance music started while we were taking photos.
By the time we walk over, people are swaying and twerking on the dance floor in a way that indicates they found the open bar. Others have lined up at the buffet, and many are already seated at the tables.
“Have fun,” Mom says to us as she drags my new stepdad onto the dance floor. She drapes her hands around her new husband’s neck, presses her body tightly against his, and they sway, oblivious to the fast beat of the music.
My brothers and I have lined up near the dance floor, like it’s hot lava and none of us are ready to take the next step. Stonewall plops into a seat at the nearby table.
“What are you waiting for? Come dance.” My mom motions toward us then returns her attention to my new stepdad. That’s going to take some getting used to. I don’t know anything about him. I’m dumbfounded that I was worried about meeting a guy someday and leaving her alone. I sure didn’t see this coming.
I shriek as Taz grabs my hand, then spins me onto the dance floor. My free hand landing on his bare chest is the only thing that stops my torso from slamming into his. Bummer.
My assumption that we’d dance like most of the other couples, with hands in the air, is wrong. His hands wrap around my waist, pulling my hips into his. Somehow that makes it impossible for me to breathe.
Angling my head to the side, I use a giant concrete tiki statue as a focal point and mentally talk myself through breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
“Feel free to move your hands.” His comment makes me painfully aware of how awkwardly my arms are squished between us.
“I was catching the beat.” The profoundly lame excuse gives me a second to reposition.
I opt for my hands on his shoulders. Big mistake. I’ve now measured the width of his shoulders, and the muscular curve of them. Where’s that tiki statue? Dang it. Taz turned us and I can’t see it.
“No need to be nervous,” he says with all the calm charm he looks like he’d possess.
“I’m not nervous.” Another excellently lame lie. “It’s just weird how fast our parents went from meeting to marrying. And now I’m touching my stepbrother’s nearly naked body.” Oh shit, that’s not what I meant to focus on,orsay.
Taz laughs and tightens his embrace, which flattens my breasts against his chest. I seriously need somewhere else to put my hands, but I’m not wrapping them around his neck. Shoulders will have to do.
He says, “Must be destiny.”
“What?”
“Our nearly naked bodies touching. Were you going to call?”
Call? I laser-beam focus on the tiki statue as we turn again. Right, it was his phone number Avery got for me. A nervous laugh escapes me. “Did you want me to?”
“I don’t give my number out too often.”
I meet his gaze for the first time. Not my best choice, but his deep green eyes lock me in. “So why give it to a pregnant waitress who says she’s getting it for a friend?”
“Because she told me which friend.”
