AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The comment from her was so rare that everyone aboard paused for a beat before bursting into laughter, her sisters tackling her to one of the benches and shouting, “You made a joke, El! You made ajoke!”
The second youngest Delatou girl made an impressive show of attempting to shove them off and maintain her I-don’t-give-a-fuck scowl, but she eventually lost the battle with her smile, giggling along with her sisters as they tickled and teased her.
This was a side of Amara I rarely saw. I was familiar with her European antics and the kind of woman she was at work, but around her family? This was new.
I didn’t entirely hate it.
It was obvious in the way they interacted how much the sisters loved each other, and it reminded me how lucky I was that none of them had told Amara about my attempts to push her out of the company all those months ago. Their loyalty and desire to protect their sister was admirable, and a pang of jealousy lanced my chest. As an only child, I’d always found myself envious of sibling dynamics, found myself longing for that same connection to people who were forced to love me no matter what.
In fact, as I glanced at Logan, staring lovingly at his wife and sisters-in-law, I couldn’t help picturing myself in his position.
What would it be like to join this family? To have siblings at last? To consider Chloe, Delia, Ella, and Briemysisters? To spend family functions at Logan’s side, shooting the shit with him and whoever Delia, Ella, and Brie ended up with, sharing a beer and watching the girls have moments just like this?
What would it be like to fall asleep with Amara in my arms and wake up the same? How would it feel to call herminein every way? Right now, I had her body. But…maybe…I wanted the rest of her too.
The Delatous’ cottage was only a few miles from Owen’s, and that evening, the girls and Logan came over for a fire. After a long day spent entirely in the sun, consuming far too many beers and Logan’s heinous jello shots, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. But I didn’t want to miss out on time with Amara—even if she chose to sit across the fire from me—so here I was, a lukewarm bottle of Michelob Ultra in my hand, legs coated in bug spray, listening to the girls tell a story about the time Brie nearly burned the winery down.
“I was twelve!” she shouted.
“You’re lucky the buildings are constructed mainly of stone,” Chloe said.
“You know, Cal,” Amara said, pulling me into conversation for the first time since they’d arrived earlier, “you can still see scorch marks on the ceiling in the kitchen from where the flames reached before the fire department arrived.”
With a chuckle, I said, “I’ll have to check them out when we get home.”
“All I wanted was to make soufflé,” Brie said with a pout.
“Don’t worry, sissy,” Delia said, running her fingers soothingly down the length of Brie’s hair, freed from its signature braid for once. “You’ve grown so much since then. You haven’t set anything on fire in…at least two weeks.”
“I told you that in confidence!” Brie exploded from her chair, tackling Delia to the ground, thankfully away from the fire, and the remaining Delatou sisters jumped up to pull them apart. Eventually, they all fell into a laughing heap on the ground, a tangle of long, tanned limbs glowing in the firelight and bright white teeth shining under the moon.
Once they were calmed down and dusted off and again settled in their chairs, a mischievous glint appeared in Delia’s eyes as she looked right at me, held my gaze, and said, “You should know by now that we don’t keep secrets, little sister.”
I didn’t like that look in her eyes, the one that said she knew shit about me that could hurt me, and she wasn’t afraid to use it. So help me, if she opened her mouth and ruined this thing between me and Amara before it ever really got started, we’d be having words.
And she wouldn’t like what I’d have to say. It was one thing to fuck with her sisters, as I knew from my time around the family that Delia was prone to do, but to pull me into her bullshit was an entirely different story—and I wouldn’t be so understanding.
“To be fair,” Brie said. “With that incident two weeks ago, I was experimenting with a new creme brûlée recipe, and it was my own hair I accidentally set on fire with the torch, not an entire fucking building.”
“Enough about that,” Delia said, waving off her sister’s comments. “Let’s play a game.”
The Delatou girls and Logan groaned, and Owen and I shared a skeptical look.
“What kind of game?” Owen asked.
“Truth or dare,” Delia answered proudly.
“Absolutely not,” Owen said firmly. “I’m too old for that shit.”
Delia shrugged, unperturbed. “So just pick truth. We’re not starting with you, anyway. We’re starting with…” That wicked gleam was back in her eyes, exacerbated by the glow of the fire, giving her a demonic expression that I didn’t think was too far off. She briefly glanced my way before swinging her gaze to…“Mar, truth or dare?”
“You little shit,” Amara breathed.
“I’m sorry, sissy, that wasn’t an answer. Truth or dare?”
Amara was silent for several long heartbeats, and the pieces worked their way into a fully-formed picture slowly in my head. Delia knew about us, obviously. I’d already guessed as much, but this was confirmation. Whichever option Amara chose, her question or dare would involve me. Delia was forcing our hand.
I’d always known Delia was a bit of a wildcard, but this was some next level bullshit.
