She rolls her eyes and turns back to the photographer, who’s waiting with her camera at the ready. “Where do you want us?”
“Let’s do the bride and groom first,” the woman says. “If the whole wedding party could just follow me down to the water? That way, I’ll have you all where I need you. Then we’ll move inside for some shots in the hotel.”
Insideandoutside pictures? Clip me now and get it over with, for fuck’s sake. I haven’t awkwardly posed and pasted a canned smile to my lips since senior prom pictures in high school.
Scorpion and Lucky are also grumbling, but we all tag along, trailing in Priest and Luna’s wake to the ocean. Isla keeps her distance from me, no doubt because we no longer have an audience. The guests have milled into the reception area for cocktail hour. That’s fine by me. The sooner this is over with and I never have to see her again, the sooner I can forget about her.
The photographer wastes no time in arranging the bride and groom how she wants them. The first pose is them holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes like some kind of Valentine’s Day jewelry commercial. The ring on Luna’s finger sparkles in the sun along with the fortune in diamonds twinkling at her throat and ears.
I could talk to my brothers and my cousins, who are huddled off to the side, arguing over something. Francesca is one of the most opinionated women I’ve ever met, and Carina isn’t far behind. Lucky and Scorpion are never going to win, and I’m not in the mood for squabbling.
Fuck it. I decide to move closer to Isla, who’s hovering nearby, watching Luna and Priest posing. She tenses up, flicking a glance in my direction before looking away again. The sand is hot under my bare feet, but I don’t give a shit. Her nipples are saluting me through her dress, and I know it’s because she’s remembering every filthy thing we did together.
I am too.
And just like that, my cock is hard again.
Terrible timing. I shift in the sand, hoping the loose-fitting trousers also handpicked by Luna are forgiving enough that Isla won’t notice. I’m not too sure about that. My dick is a monster.
I step to the side, moving in on Isla, until she’s eclipsed by my shadow. She’s a short thing, and I love that about her. Only comes up to my chest. Not that it matters. Whatever recklessness collided between us two nights ago can never be repeated.
I’m testing the waters. Intimidating her. I wonder if she’ll move away.
Isla holds her ground, staying put. Priest is twirling Luna now, and she’s spinning and laughing. I have to look away from their happiness. They deserve this. They’ve earned this carefree, sun-drenched wedding day. But in my experience, the other shoe is always waiting to drop. Right on your fucking head.
I glance back at Isla, studying her profile. A gentle breeze stirs her hair, carrying the faint, sweet scent of her perfume back to me. Her full, sultry lips are compressed in an annoyed line, her jaw taut like she’s clenching it. I wonder how long it’ll take for her to crack. She doesn’t like me standing this close.
“So,” she murmurs softly, finally, turning to look at me. “Investor, huh?”
She’s gorgeous, a sprinkle of freckles on her nose, long lashes framing her bright-green eyes, that pink mouth I fucked just begging for more.
“I wasn’t lying about that,” I tell her, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
We do invest in hundreds of business ventures, legal and otherwise. This hotel, for instance.
Her eyes narrow. “Criminal, thug, and professional murderer don’t have as much of a ring to them, I suppose.”
And instantly, it hits me. She’s not upset that she hooked up with the best man at her friend’s wedding. She’s upset that the best man turned out to be in the Mafia. I didn’t expect that kind of reaction from a friend of Luna’s, and given the wealth and power we’ve amassed, it’s not one I get often anymore.
“So that’s what crawled up your ass,” I say coldly. “Having a hard time accepting that you fucked a mobster, Jane Austen?”
Her eyes go wide, and she shoots a look around to see if anyone else overheard. “Watch what you say.”
“I don’t think I like your tone,” I tell her, an edge of warning in my voice.
This wedding is a world away from the one we usually inhabit, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to let her insult me to my fucking face without consequences. Or be judged by her. I’ve had enough of that shit to last me a lifetime already.
“Is that so?” Her expression turns stubborn. “What are you going to do about my tone?”
I flash her a grin. “I don’t think you want to find out, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart.”
“Don’t threaten me. You won’t like the result.”
Our eyes are locked. I won’t be the one to blink first.
She looks away, green eyes settling on Priest and Luna. He’s holding her in his arms now as the photographer snaps away.
