Page 119 of Liars and Liaisons

Finally, I slide my sunglasses from where they’re hanging on my collar, and slip them on. “Then I’ll see you in the fall, Ms. Scott.”

It’s all I can give her for now. All I’m willing to give until I see if she’s serious about her education and career this time around.

My father and brother may be gone, but distractions will always exist.

An hour and a half later, after I’ve changed into a suit, ferried to Aplana Island, and then taken a cab to the beach, I’m focusing entirely on my one singular distraction these days. The one standing beneath the altar, adjusting a few of pink lilies twisted in the white lattice.

I don’t approach her immediately, choosing instead to admire the dark beauty she brings to the ocean scenery. Her obsidian hair is twisted in a single, loose braid that spills down her back, which is mostly visible in the sleek, form-fitting gown she has on. I trace the contours of her body, the soft curve of her hip and the side swell of her breast, taking note of every place I’ll taste later tonight.

The way I have every night—and morning—since we left the James estate.

It’s a miracle she lets me at all. That she wanted anything to do with me, after everything.

I’m not a man to discount the quiet blessings.

“You’re really bad at stalking, you know that, right?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips, brought to life by the mere sound of her voice. Violet glances over one shoulder, her brown eyes warm and playful.

“Well, as it happens,” I say, adjusting the lapels of my suit jacket, “I’ve never claimed that to be my area of expertise.”

“No, that’d be mine.”

Deep laughter comes from my right, and I turn to see Aiden casually strolling toward us with the pink-haired Riley on his arm. I give a curt nod to my security advisor, then cock a brow at my nephew’s choice of attire.

She smiles at Violet, who immediately squeals and runs over to see the ring on her left hand. A fairly recent addition, and though the two girls have become rather close in the years since they first met, Riley still resides in her hometown in Maine, and Violet chose to remain on the island to be close to her brother and his family.

Still, they talk nearly every day, and I pretend not to notice the look of longing in Violet’s doe eyes.

As if she thinks we’re far behind.

Dipping my chin at my nephew, I shake my head. “Your mother would die if she knew you were wearing ahoodiebeneath a sports coat.”

He shrugs, pushing up the sleeves to show off the ink and silver rings on his hands. “She’s got bigger problems since Dad started trying to reinsert himself in her life.”

Ah, yes. The things men will do when they have nothing else. Sonny took over our father’s ventures and became head of the unofficial James enterprises, but as he climbs in age and social status, I believe he’s beginning to flounder in loneliness.

We certainly didn’t get any closer, though he at least knew better than to ask questions about what happened. Or, as I more highly suspect, didn’t care enough to. With control over the family name and the businesses that accompany it, I didn’t think he’d care about anything, but perhaps there’s room for him to change, after all.

“Besides,” Aiden continues. “Mom likes that I’m consistent. She says it’s good for my brand.”

“And hoodies are a lot less trivial than sex tapes and stalking charges,” Riley adds, nudging him with her elbow. She looks up at him, blue eyes sparkling.

He snorts, then circles his thumb and forefinger around the ring on her left hand. “They were pictures, and frankly, my dick was the only thing really in focus.”

“I’m not arguing with you about this again.”

“Fine.” He squeezes her, and Violet laughs. “I’m still not apologizing for wanting the world to know you’re all mine.”

They take off to find their designated seats in the crowd of white wooden chairs before the altar. I turn to Violet, plucking a lily from the bouquet in her arms, and tuck it behind her ear.

“It’s no sunflower,” I say, my chest tightening just from looking at her. “But it’ll do, I think.”

“Hey, I tried to push the sunflower agenda on Lenny. I even told her I’d give them to her for free since we have a whole field of them, butno. Talk about your Bridezillas.”

I lean in, cupping the back of her neck, when we’re again interrupted—this time, by a deep British voice. Jonas Wolfe, the groom and brother of Aplana’s mayor, grins as he walks over, a tumbler of whiskey in hand. Alistair trails behind him in a tan suit, and a man with square glasses and an uncomfortable expression on his face isn’t far behind.

Cash Primrose, if memory serves. The lawyer married to Elena’s chaotic younger sister and the older brother of the bride.

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