EVERYONE CRIED as Aubrey and Jax said their vows.
Everyone except me.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to be a groomsman. My eyes were as dry as the Sahara in a drought. Shit, even my father shed a tear.
Senior Stonewood, the man who’d molded me into who I was, stood next to my mom looking prouder than ever before.
It was quite possible that everyone had amnesia. My father leaned down to say something my mom smiled at. People would have said they looked in love. Yet, I remembered the year my mom kicked my dad out. They’d screamed at each other about his long hours, about the business coming first.
My mom broke down, crying so many nights, her depression nearly overtook her. She begged him to let her be his first love. My dad swore she was. Still, he couldn’t commit to anything but his enterprise. The investments pulled him away time and time again.
On those nights, I remember soothing her as she cried on my shoulder while shielding my brothers from her pain and despair at the same time.
Then I grew up. My mother had been so determined to keep us away from my dad’s business that I gravitated towards it. Wave after wave of arguments ensued over my staying with my father. My mother had overcome the sadness and morphed into a ferocious woman who could match my father’s ruthlessness one-for-one when it came to the job of raising her children. She didn’t want me to turn out like him but also didn’t want to suppress my dreams because she feared history repeating itself.
Today they held hands like they missed one another, like they had forgotten the past.
Love hadn’t conquered all with them, and somehow everyone thought it would conquer all for Jax and Aubrey.
The bar presented the only solution to my problem. I needed to catch amnesia with a drink or two. The outdoor hut with long stalks of hay and twigs for a roof held every type of alcohol, and I could smell the fruit mixed with rum as I approached. The bartender welcomed me with a wide smile across his tanned face.
The groom and my baby brother, Jaydon, walked up next to me.
Jaydon questioned Jax as they both leaned onto the bar. “When do you think the reception music will start?”
Jax chuckled and nodded out at the guests mingling on the sandy coast we’d reserved for a happy hour. “Are you planning something?”
“I might have one or two people crash the party.” He smiled like we had nothing to worry about, like just anyone could show up.
“You can’t have some girl off the street come to the reception, Jaydon. It’s asking for trouble. They could be the media or …” I started in on him.
“Lighten up, man. We’re in Kauai. The media’s not trying to fly to the island to get a shot.” Jaydon waved me off.
“You’re the most famous person here,” I ground out, trying to keep my frustration at bay. He’d been acting for years now and tabloids loved to put him center stage. “You should understand how detrimental crazy paparazzi can be,” I responded.
“Oh, I understand. I’m just not going to let them dictate my fun,” Jaydon said.
Jax sighed. “You’re not having strange women at the reception, Jaydon. Aubrey will kill you and then me for allowing it.”
“I’ll ask her.” Jaydon scanned the crowd.
“If you do that right now, I promise I’ll help her kill you,” Jax grumbled.
Jaydon didn’t seem to care because he started texting someone. I snatched his phone away.
“What the fuck, Jett?” He made a grab for it, but I held the phone out of his reach.
“You’re not bringing a girl that hasn’t had a background check into this event. Everyone signed an NDA. No one outside our circle comes in. End of story.”
Jaydon stared at me a second longer and then slumped into the bar. “You two are fucking buzzkills. Brey would let me bring someone in.”
Jax snorted.
Jaydon continued, “She might have married you, but she’s still my best friend. She’s nice enough to give me the opportunity to get laid here.”
“Yeah, she’s too fucking nice to you. And everyone. Which is why we have to speak up for her.” Jax tapped the bar and the bartender appeared, aligning three hand-cut crystal lowball glasses on the shined wood. He poured whiskey in each.
“She’s not always that nice.” I broached the subject everyone had been avoiding.
Jaydon laughed and sat down on one of the barstools. “She can be a sass pot. Girl knows when to lay down the law.”
“If you say so. You’re already married but it’s still something you should consider, Jax,” I said and slid Jaydon’s phone back to him.
Jax turned to me and handed over the glass of liquor. His blue eyes held a warning when he asked, “Consider what?”
Maybe I should have backed off. “Her dad’s in prison. You and I both know the media can twist a story.”
Jax turned to set his glass on the bar and faced me again. This time, I saw the anger. His muscles bunched with it, and his jaw ticked. Behind him, Jaydon stood up—his phone forgotten—with the same look in his eyes that Jax had.
They both wanted me to retract what I’d just said. They wanted me to apologize and say I didn’t mean to talk badly about Aubrey Whitfield.
Aubrey Whitfield, the love of his life, was intelligent, inspiring, and driven. In fact, I’d offered her a job investing with me at Stonewood Enterprises after she’d graduated. My team consisted of extraordinary people and she’d overcome her father burning down her childhood home. She took risk after risk. The girl was strong. Perfect for him and for our family, considering the media that followed it.
But they were naive to think the media wouldn’t have a field day with how quickly they were getting married. And stupid to think it wouldn’t take a toll. I needed them to last, not crumble under the pressure.
And most people folded under the institution of marriage because the titles, the expectations, the compromises—they pushed people to the brink. My parents were a perfect example of that.
If I had to be the one to consider every angle, I would. Fact was, her father was in prison for arson and the homicide of her mother. My brother was a Stonewood and a retired musician. With his fame and her father’s notoriety, the press loved to watch their every move.
“She has done well with being in the news, Jax. I’ll give her that. But what happens when she gets stressed? What then?”
“Then she gets stressed, and we handle it,” Jax replied, his tone flat and void of emotion.
“You have to consider that fifty percent of marriages end in divorce—” I started.
He cut me off. “I went to visit her father for years, Jett. I made it my business to be there, bring him to his knees, and make sure he never bothers us again.”
Jax had climbed a metaphorical Mount Everest to make sure Aubrey’s father never had the money or authority to come in any contact with his daughter again. I didn’t agree with the amount of money he’d lost by disassembling her father’s company, but I understood that he’d done it for her. “If you say so.”
His eyes narrowed, a glare meant to wither me. ‘I’ve considered every aspect of this relationship more than you can ever imagine. Repeat what you just said and you’ll regret it.”
“Someone has to protect the family …”
Jaydon snorted and crossed his arms. “Brey’s never tainted our name and she never will. If anything, she’s lowering her standards by marrying Jax. He doesn’t deserve her.”
Jax shoved him. “Fuck you.”
“What? You know damn well you don’t deserve her.”
“Look,” I reasoned with them both. “You’re married, it’s all fine. In the future, if everyone folds under the pressure, the divorce will be—”
“Jesus,” Jax sighed as if he was tired. “You deserve to get your ass beat.”
“Are you kidding me, Jax? I’m trying to make every angle clear.” I rubbed the five-o’clock shadow that had spurted one or two gray hairs over the course of last year.
Jaydon’s gaze ping-ponged between us, and then he pointedly placed himself between Jax and me. “Come on, you two. We don’t need black eyes tonight.”
“You’re lucky I love my wife and don’t want to cause a scene,” Jax said.
“No, you’re lucky. You forget who taught you to fight?” I glared at him over Jaydon’s black-suited shoulder.
The muscle in Jax’s jaw worked as his ice-blue eyes shot anger my way.
I deserved a beatdown. He was right.
Running my family’s investment company was taking its toll on me. I was taking my stress out on them, on this wedding. I didn’t have time to vacation in Kauai, even for something as important as my brother tying the knot.
I straightened my tie and adjusted my suit jacket. “Look, Dad’s not been present at work lately. He’s spending more time with Mom. Trying to make things work.” I resisted the urge to state another point in the case of why the institution of marriage wasn’t a smart move. My parents were a perfect example of consistent compromise, of my father not getting to do what he loved. “He can’t work and make Mom happy, which means more work is falling on my team. We have a lot of clients that need my attention.”
Jax stopped me. “I don’t give a fuck about a job. I work there too, remember?”
Jax worked on algorithms. Not deals, not major companies under our name folding, not managing the work of thousands. The weight of people’s families having dinner on their table each night sat on my back. That work didn’t stop because of a wedding.
He continued on, “You’re a groomsman. Start acting like you care.”
I ground my teeth together as I once again held on to the words I wanted to say.
Jaydon tried to play peacemaker again. “This is supposed to be bonding time between brothers.”
I sighed and nodded my head. “Jaydon’s right.” I patted his shoulder as we both stared at Jax. “Sorry for bringing it up. I just want what’s best.”
Jaydon turned toward me and let my hand slide from his shoulder. “You didn’t let me finish, Jett,” he growled, his glare even meaner than Jax’s. “It’s bonding time, so let’s not talk about my best friend like she’s not worth a damn or I’ll help Jax hide your fucking body, you prick.”
I rolled my eyes and turned toward the bar. “Guess I’d better drink the whiskey down and shut the fuck up. Seems you two aren’t into seeing reason anytime soon.”
They turned away from me and the bar to walk off, leaving me with the toothy bartender.
‘What can I get you?’ he asked.
The bridesmaid I’d walked down the aisle with literally skipped up beside me. ‘Can you get him a strawberry daiquiri? One for me too, please.’
Spunky, full of life, and exasperatingly happy, Vick didn’t appeal to me. Nor did her taste in drinks, but the bartender spun around to make them anyway.
I pushed the heel of my hand to my temple to ward off the migraine I knew would come from irritation. ‘You can take both of them. I don’t want strawberry anything today.’
‘They’re great, I promise. It’s the best drink to have in hot weather like this. You’ll see.’ Her smile didn’t reach her eyes as she tried her best to keep a cheerful face.
The girl was pretty. She had long blonde hair that swung with its own weight when she walked and a tall enough frame that she could pass as a model. The black dress she wore accentuated her curves, small waist and substantial chest. With high cheekbones and full, pink lips, her face had perfect symmetry.
Her personality was the problem. The fucking prancing around needed to end here. “Where’s Brey? Shouldn’t you be getting her a strawberry drink?”
Her honey-colored eyes widened. “OMG.” She actually said the letters. “She’s only drinking white wine today. She can’t spill on that dress. And these drinks”—she grabbed hers as the bartender set it down and shoved mine over to me—“have way too much alcohol in them. This bartender doubles down on the daiquiris, I swear. Being that impaired on your wedding day never ends well.”
I grabbed the drink. “Well if it’s got as much alcohol as you say,” I shrugged. “Bottom’s up.”
I clinked my enormous glass to hers and took a big gulp. The rum overpowered the saccharine taste to the point that I coughed and almost spit up on her dress.
She smiled wide this time, like she’d won a private fight between us. “Told you it packs a punch.”
She stood tall, chest puffed out and eyes sparkling when she got the best of someone. She clearly relished in getting the best of me. For the first time that day, I was a little less perturbed and a lot more intrigued.
“What did you say you do for a living?”
She waited a second before she answered me. She stared out at the horizon and the ocean below it, then dropped her gaze to where most of our family and friends were dancing and mingling. “Brey didn’t tell you?”
I chuckled. “Brey and I discuss business. She doesn’t share what’s not important. I know we’re looking at buying up the company you work for. Your job isn’t really a factor in that.”
She stiffened at my bluntness. “I would think everyone’s job is a factor if you want to keep people happy.”
“It’s not my job to make everyone happy.”
“Right. Well, the owner of the company I work for strives to do that. He won’t sell unless he knows his employees are taken care of.”
“Everyone sells for the right price, honey.”
“You’d be surprised what Steven has turned down. I promise he’s not in it for the money.”
I leaned back on the bar and studied her. Those eyes turned a molasses color when she got fired up. She stood her ground with me, and I liked it more than I thought I would. “You’re sure about that?”
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at me. “I’m sure.”
I shrugged and downed the rest of my daiquiri before I turned to place it on the bar. “So, what do you do within the company that makes you so sure?”
“I … well,”—she cleared her throat—“I’m one of the associate contract lawyers for Samson and Sons.”
“Samson and …’ I recall chuckling a bit at the name when I’d first read over it. We would have to drop it if we acquired them. I couldn’t help but smirk as I cleared my throat. “Doesn’t matter. An associate who knows what the owner wants?”
She flipped her ponytail over her shoulder like she was fluffing her feathers. “Look, Steven and I have known each other a long time. Our families go way back. I interned with the firm, and I’m climbing the ranks fast. He’s confided in our team—and in me—time and time again. We trust him to do what’s right for the company.”
“If you say so.” The bartender appeared again. This time, I ordered our drinks. “We’ll have two tequilas straight up.”
“I don’t want—”
I cut her off. “I tried yours. You’ll try mine.”
“It’s disgusting.”
“It’s much healthier than what you’re drinking.”
“And you think I’m trying to be healthy tonight?” she snapped.
“I think we’re both doomed to feel the effects of our drinks tomorrow. Let’s just enjoy what the bartender serves us.”
“Fine.” She narrowed her eyes. “But, if I finish this drink, you have to dance to one song with me and look like you are having an enjoyable time. It’s your brother’s and Brey’s day. We have to make it the best. For them.”
I sighed and shoved her drink toward her when the bartender brought it over. “If we keep getting drinks, I’ll be able to look like I’m having a magnificent time.”
She rolled her eyes and brought the glass to her lush lips. She tipped it back fast, letting the liquid flow into her mouth.
The sun-kissed skin of her neck bobbed as she swallowed. She’d probably been out prancing along the beach every day before the wedding, singing the praises of the sand and seashells.
She didn’t cough at all. I was surprised when she kept gulping and finished the drink right then. She set the glass down without a wince.
Her triumphant smile met her eyes this time. “You ready to dance?”
Before I could answer, she spun around so fast her blonde hair whipped me in the face. Then, she was bobbing up and down as her heels carried her to the open dance area on the beach. Aubrey and Jax swayed near a speaker, along with their friends.
I grunted and downed my drink before I made my way over.
The beat of the music moved the crowd, pulsed through the bodies. I sidled up close to Vick and shrugged when Jaydon raised his eyebrows at me.
Vick lifted her hands above her head and rolled her hips while she smiled at me. “I love this song.”
I rocked just enough so I looked like I might be dancing. “Do you love everything?”
She laughed at my question. “What’s there not to love?”
She didn’t give me time to answer, just spun and dropped down low to the beat. Her friends hooted and egged her on. She bounced a little, watching me. Her antics were immature, but I had to admit she looked hot as hell doing it.
Pole dancers looked good while they worked too. It didn’t mean they should do it everywhere.
As if Vick read my mind, she leaned into me and slid her body up mine to bring herself back to her full height.
She was being ridiculous, I thought.
She was fucking hot, my dick thought.
I stepped back from her, but she followed me. “Jett, the song’s not over yet and you don’t look happy at all. This wasn’t part of the deal. Are you a man of your word?”
She moved toward me, like a little fox trying to outwit me, and I pulled my frown into a slight smirk.
I slid my arm around her tiny waist and yanked her into me. I moved against her as I leaned down to whisper in her ear, ‘Sure am, Pixie.’
She narrowed her eyes. Then she twirled around and that damn ponytail flew into my shoulder, sliding off it like golden liquid as she walked a few feet away. When she turned back around, her eyes were back to big, honey-colored saucers filled with joy. ‘Can you do anything other than step side to side?’
I undid the top button of my white collared shirt and when the next song’s beat hit, I stepped up to her challenge. I did the damn dance with everyone else.
After one more song, I nodded to Vick. ‘Man of my word. Off to get another drink.’
The woman cracked another grin, like she had an unlimited supply to give out. ‘I’ll come with you.’
I headed toward the bar. ‘I don’t want another daiquiri.’
‘Suit yourself. I do though.’
I ordered her another one while I ordered myself more tequila. When the bartender set the drinks down, her hand shot out to grab mine, and she gulped it like a damn shot. When I protested, she held up a finger. ‘I just need a second before you get all crabby about it.’
“The bar is open, woman. Just order one of your own if that’s what you want.” I tapped the bar and signaled for another.
She stared out at Brey laughing with Jax as she asked, ‘You don’t want to celebrate them. Why?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Simplify it for me.’
“I don’t believe it’ll last this way. So, it isn’t worth the effort.”
‘So, you think love isn’t worth the hassle?’
‘Honestly, it isn’t.’
‘What about life?’ She turned to me and waited for the answer. The happiness bled out of her eyes, the warmth of the honey sapped away, leaving a worn, dismal mahogany behind. Her stare was cavernous, holding secrets behind layers I wanted to see, to learn, to experience.
When I didn’t reply, she lowered her gaze and grabbed her daiquiri. ‘See ya on the flip side, Mr. Stonewood.’
I didn’t respond to her trying to end our encounter. I followed her instead. She wove through the crowd and we passed a few tables and chairs in the reception area.
She jumped when she glanced around and saw me standing behind her. “What are you doing?”
“Following you.”
“I’m aware. You held up your end of the bargain. We’re done playing now. You can go be all dreary somewhere else.”
“Why did you ask me if life is worth the hassle?”
She focused on a table covered in a milk white cloth in front of her. Her bubblegum pink lacquered nails ran over the linen, working out the wrinkles. “Well, there are a lot of obstacles.”
I nodded, but she continued watching her own efforts to iron out every flaw in the tablecloth.
“Like love, life has hurdles. Peaks and valleys. It’s give-and-take. It’s a freaking feat just to live. And to love … that deserves serious recognition. So, I wondered what you thought of it all being as pessimistic as you are.”
“I’m not pessimistic. I’m realistic.”
She peered at me, through me, into something so much greater than me. “And isn’t reality the saddest thing there is?”
She waited for my answer with a different type of smile. It didn’t spread across her face, and it didn’t light the room. She concealed sadness behind it, and she crossed her arms over her chest like she wanted to keep that sadness locked up and hidden from everyone.
“You’ve been buzzing around this beach like a little pixie, excited to be a part of reality. Now it’s sad?”
“I push the bounds of reality to be happy. You have to fight for joy.”
I sneered at the ridiculous answer. “You don’t change it, Pixie. Reality is what it is. It’s all we’re given.”
A piece of her hair had fallen loose, and she moved her manicured hand to push it behind her ear without answering me. Her somber movement and the way she heaved a sigh fascinated me. Her plump lips parted, and her tongue wet her lips. She ran her gaze up and down my body and those eyes warmed up again.
Her silence hovered in the air, making me wonder exactly what she was thinking. Something had shaken her enough that we’d moved past her default happy personality. I wanted to unravel her and find out what was behind her facade.
“Reality is reality,” I continued. ‘Get lost in it with me?”
She tilted her head. I didn’t wait for an answer from her. I walked toward the hotel rooms.
I heard the clicking of her heels behind me and knew that even with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank that night, I would not forget my time with her.
