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“Hey, I don’t drink them all the time. But I think Starbucks coffee smells like skunk. They burn it, I swear.”
“Alright, enough about the coffee,” Elian sweeps in as the peacemaker. “What should we do today? I looked at the weather report. It shouldn’t be too windy. We can definitely bust out the jet skis, or get the float out?”
The guys go over the impressive list of water toys hidden in the lower decks of the yacht—seriously,twojet skis??—and eventually Emiliano and Manuel show up. Even though they’re dressed far more casually than last night’s tuxedos, in swim trunks and polo shirts, the pair of them still feel pretty stiff and formal.
When Emiliano’s aviator-glasses-covered gaze lands on me, his mouth sets in a firm line and he spouts off in rapid Spanish at Vincente, gesturing my way. Obviously unhappy.
It’s embarrassing to admit that even though I grew up in Miami, I don’t speak a lick of Spanish. I studied French as an elective despite my parents advising against it. I thought it looked better on my transcript.
So I have no idea what he says, only that it sounds angry.
Vincente replies with a gentler tone, but his voice brokers no argument. He settles back in his seat and wraps an arm around my back, and I sit, uncomfortable, in the middle of the family dispute.
Emiliano’s jaw flexes, his hands forming fists and releasing them rapidly, before he throws a hand up in the air and stalks back toward the stairs, continuing to complain to Manuel in Spanish.
The atmosphere is tense, and I know without a doubt it’s my fault.
“I’m sorry.” I don’t know why, but he clearly doesn’t want me here. “Is he mad because it’s supposed to be only family?”
“Something like that.” Vincente rubs my back lightly. “He’s just mad we didn’t tell him you were coming. He likes to know all the details, always. It’s really not your fault, and he’ll get over it. I don’t know if you could tell, but he’s kind of high-strung.”
That makes me snort. “Yeah, I’m beginning to pick up on that,” I agree. “So, we’re ready to set sail now? Or are we expecting more family that are going to be surprised by my presence?”
“Nope, that’s it,” Sandro confirms. “They’re about to weigh anchor, and then we’ll be on our way to the Bahamas!”
“You brought your passport, right?” Elian nudges me with an elbow.
“Sure did,” I reply. “But are we really going to have time to go ashore?”
“Well, there’s this great restaurant I think you’ll like,” Sandro starts. “They have a menu based entirely on the catch of the day, and-“
“No, she can eat fish anywhere. I was thinking we’d go to the water park,” Elian interrupts.
The two of them begin a spirited argument about which excursion would be a better use of our day, and I settle back in my seat to wait it out.
Vincente leans close enough that I can feel his warm breath on my ear. “If you ask me, there’s no point in going ashore,” his voice rumbles, breath ruffling the tiny hairs on my neck. “We have a ton of water toys to play with. Our kitchen is stocked with great food, and staffed by a top-rate chef.”
“So why don’t you just tell them both no?” I wonder aloud.
“Because it’s a good way for them to get their rivalry out without throwing punches,” he laughs under his breath. “They’re so close in age, they’re always competing. Elian always feels he has to win logical arguments because he’s smaller and wants to assert himself. Sandro doesn’t like being perceived as a classless meathead, so he has developed this whole foodie persona in the last couple of years. To be honest, he’s quite good at it. But the two of them find things like this to bicker about. We could easily do both things, too.”
“But you’d prefer neither?”
“I’d prefer whatever you want to do, Sloane. What would make you happy?”
The heat ran all the way down to my toes. “I’m not sure. Right now, I’m looking forward to the ride.”
“Well, that is an excellent place to start.”
Chapter12
If I ever bothered to imagine what it was like to be stupid rich, this is probably how I would picture it. Sailing to the Bahamas on your private super yacht, being waited on hand and foot by an army of staff, riding jet skis around the crystal blue waters just offshore from sparkling white sand beaches.
True to Elian’s assertion, today was a day together. We had fun, all hanging out, without pressure for me to spend more time or focus on any of them. Even though their behavior toward me was noticeably attentive and flirty, it was never competitive among themselves. They simply treated me as one of them but with a sexual undertone that kept striking my mind with ‘what if’s’.
What if this could actually be a thing?
What if I dated all three of them? Hooked up with all three of them? Married all three of them?
