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“I can’t believe this. My house is flooded.”
“Better flooded than burned down, right?” Fletcher said with full empathy. He was getting good at it too.
“Right. Right. Okay, reception. I’ll just leave a note for Holly in case she comes out of the shower and finds I’m not here.”
“Don’t worry, cousin, we’ll tell her,” Nolan said, ushering him out of the door. “And hey, if you need to use our jet to get back home, it’s at your disposal,” Nolan added, gripping his shoulder.
“Thanks, man. Thanks. It means a lot,” Greg said, still frazzled.
Poor bastard’s net worth was only eight hundred and fourteen thousand dollars. How was he going to take care of her with that? It was a serious fucking question. Could he buy her an island? Could he buy her a Blue Moon Diamond and then another so she could have two of them?
He worked for Walt as a junior executive in his multi-million-dollar furniture company. Walt had refused to give Kingston, Nolan, and Fletcher jobs when they graduated. Told them they had to make their own way, and they did.
But if Greg Rice married their stepsister, by the end of the weekend, he was going to inherit The West Furniture Company from Walt, and they weren’t sure if Holly would be impressed with Rice’s promise of a multi-million-dollar company enough to marry him.
If they had to be honest, they really had nothing against Rice as a person. He was a good guy, honest, open, and fucking pleasant as hell. He wouldn’t darenotto treat her right. But maybe it was their misplaced protectiveness over her that made every guy a fucking loser and not good enough for her whether they were good men or not.As far as they were concerned, Greg Rice was not good enough for her.
And Walt was having a good fucking laugh because he instigated the whole damn thing, and now he was sitting in his quaint little mansion, watching them attend a fucking wedding while trying to make sure Holly didn’t leave the island married herself.
Walt always had a sick sense of humor. He said he was getting back at them for making more money than he would have ever been able to do in ten continuous lifetimes.
Mickie taught them the art of patience. Walt taught them how to speed things up when they didn’t have time to wait for it.
Chapter Five
Well, that was something new.
Holly found herself actually trembling as she got ready for the Sexy Spectacle, Caroline and Robbie’s fresh take on a dual bachelor and bachelorette party. It was bound to be interesting. Since she couldn’t get away any earlier from the office, she had missed the welcome drinks at the hotel bar, so she couldn’t wait to see Caroline and Robbie in person.
But why was she trembling?
Was it because she had invited Greg to stay with her? Or that there was a chance she would see her stepbrothers at the event? Had they even arrived yet?
Nope. She was not going to think about them. What she was going to do was completely shift them from her brain matter. She was going to have fun. Loads and loads of fun. Fun by the tons. Truckloads of fun. She was going to be free and uninhibited. She was going to take chances and lose her virginity. And it was going to happen tonight. Only because she also had the perfect dress.
After taking a brisk shower with her usual body scrub, she oiled her skin and saturated it in lotion. Her hair was the perfect combination of messy and curled, and it hung down her back in what she liked to think of as sultry waves. Her makeup was bold, with killer red lipstick. She spritzed on her favorite perfume and then slipped into a tiny pair of panties, the only ones that the dress allowed her to wear. Next came the dress itself. The dress code was sleek and sexy for the ladies and dominant in suits for the guys.
She stepped into the dress, pulled it up to her thighs, and then had to wriggle it up over her hips. By the time she stuffed her naked boobs into the skintight, strapless dress, she thought she was going to pass out. That would be terrible, so she quickly sat down on the bed and took some deep breaths.
Okay. She was fine.
Gosh, and she hadn’t even pulled up the zipper at the back. Clearly, she was going to have to further rearrange her organs to make the dress fit properly, but that was the price she had to pay for fashion. That’s what a fashionable person would say, and suddenly she was in her fashion era, apparently.
After nearly dislocating both her shoulders to try and pull the zipper up and to stop herself from looking as if she had visited the gym for the first time, which would be true, she knew she needed help.
Greg.
Maybe this was the universe showing her the signs? Wasn’t that how women flirted?Can you zip me up?
Yes! That was what she was going to do. And for added flirtation, she carried her stilettos in her hands because how on earth was she going to bend to fasten the dainty straps on the shoes in her killer tight dress without some manly help? Poor, pretty damsel. She was actually very good at this. Fyre would be so proud of her. But she was already running late, so there was no time left to pat herself on the back.
Producing confidence out of thin air, she spread her lips into what she hoped was a seductive smile and headed toward the lounge part of the suite.
She had no idea how she managed to secure a suite—a presidential suite at that—when Greg got a standard room on the second floor. She planned to thank Caroline and Robbie profusely when she saw them.
Her confidence rose with every step she took; by the time she reached the lounge, she had 100% transformed into a modern woman who would take charge of herself and her body. Greg just happened to be the lucky guy. Well, so she hoped anyway. She just had to pray she didn’t break him in her attempts at being sexually liberated.
She had practiced how she was going to say his name.
