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“Yeah?” I grabbed an apple out of the basket in the middle of the counter and bit.
“Nothing. I can’t wait to show you the rest of this house. Food’s out back.” He snatched the apple from my hand and threw it into the trash. As he walked to the other side of the house, I heard a door open and close. I followed him to the back, more for the food than to talk to his cocky ass. Maybe a cheeseburger would help me feel less irritated.
The house was modern, with glossy floors and fancy window treatments. I stepped onto the back deck, and the sound of the ocean filled my ears. The moon hung over the skyline, in between the water and the purple clouds. Our own private beach. Shit, I should start surfing.
“Damn Dad, this house is bad as hel…“ I turned. The raven-haired step-ford wife from the bonfire sat with her legs outstretched on a lounger, white wine in hand. Looking sexy as fuck.
“Alyssa, this is Judas. Judas, Alyssa.” Dad had his back partially turned to us all, flipping a thick steak. She stood from where she was sprawled, all hips and thighs.
“It’s nice to meet you. You’re handsome. Just like your father.” She outstretched her hand to me in greeting. I almost laughed out loud but adjusted the heavy backpack on my shoulder instead.
“Yeah, nice to meet you. Lyss.” I smiled and looked at her hand but didn’t take it. She seemed a little surprised by this, but kept up with the charade, anyway. Why wouldn’t she?
What would anyone say?
Oh, hey! I know you! We fucked around on the beach the other night. I shouldn’t be surprised. Dad loved beautiful women. I only knew because our mother was beautiful and because Dad went through a bit of a ‘hoe-phase’ after she left. Can’t judge a guy for that.
“This guy right here is trouble. Try to keep your eye on him for me.” Dad pointed at me, calling to Alyssa from the grill. I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the beer I grabbed from the cooler next to the grill.
“And you, you can look with your eyes, but keep your hands to yourself. And don’t drink all my beers, fucker.” He shoved me, and I almost spilled it over the front of my shirt.
I curbed the urge to give him a hard shove but turned my attention back to Alyssa. “I can certainly try.”
Vulnerable momentsof freedom usually came at a price, and it seemed mine had just showed up on our deck.
After the awkward and very brief introduction was over, I made a beeline inside for more wine. Nineteen, right? He had said his twins were nineteen. That… man-teen didn’t look that young. This wasn’t real. It was like someone was playing a sick joke on me. Would he tell his father? Had he told him already? A nameless, faceless woman he scored with on the beach? When all else failed, when I feel pressured or stressed; I just smile. Smiling is contagious and usually confuses people. Especially men.
It’s Kostas son, for Christ sakes. Stop it.
He oozed cocky, rebellious sex. His height and well-trimmed beard made him look much older than he was. I emptied the bottle of Louis Jadot into my wineglass, almost filling it. A light tap on my shoulder and I turned to see Jeno, smiling.
“You really like your wine, it seems.” He laughed, sidling up next to me.
“Oh yeah, I was… working through some things.” I blushed, but only slightly.
His gaze stayed fixed on my face. Jeno turned and leaned his back against the counter, fiddling with his glasses. He took them off, cleaned them, and placed them back on his face. His nervous disposition palpable.
I swirled the wine around in my glass, meeting his eyes. “How do you like Newport Beach? I guess this is a little strange that I’m your boss and your father’s fiancé.”
“It’s nice here. Who wouldn’t love it?” He took a sip of his water, and I saw the resemblance to Kostas. Powerful jaw working as he swallowed. He lacked the masculinity and muscles, but had the olive skin tone, sharp facial structure, and height. This wasn’t your average nineteen-year-old, and neither was Judas.
Judas.
He was the temptation that could undo all of it. That sharp tongue, a weapon. A weapon I desperately wanted to feel between my thighs…
As though my thoughts had conjured him; Judas stepped into view and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen.
“So just how many times you been married? I mean, if you’re looking for a rich guy- that guy ain’t it.” He walked to the breakfast bar and pulled out a chair. As he sat, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the counter, hands clasped. His broad shoulders and muscular arms flexed as he sat. His green eyes caught the sunlight from the windows. It highlighted the amber ring around his pupils.
Cocky little fucker, aren’t you?
I kept myself from laughing. It was amusing to meet anyone who wasn’t afraid to say what’s on their minds. It usually caused shock and awe, but I appreciated the candour.
“Three. I’ve been married three times.” I sipped my wine and gripped edge of the sink. The tension radiated between us, and as I brought the thin glass to my lips; my peripheral caught his eyes scanning my body slowly. He stopped at my hips and turned to look out the windows.
“Don’t mind Judas, he’s just upset that his boyfriend isn’t here.” Jeno grabbed the seat next to his brother and sat. He turned and smiled, and Judas shoved him; nearly toppling over the chair. Jeno’s water glass went flying and a loud crash of shattering glass on the wood floor filled the air. I wasn’t used to this kind of behaviour. I didn’t have kids and the few friends I had didn’t have kids.
“What the fuck? You two can’t be civil for just one day? You haven’t even spent the night here yet and you’re already breaking Alyssa’s dishes.” Kosta’s voice boomed through the hallway as he walked into the kitchen. The bourbon had turned his cheeks red, his thick brows stitched together.
