“Is this your way of asking if I’ll handcuff you?”
“Hmmm, maybe.”
I hated that it made me laugh, especially when I felt the tension finally start to bleed away at the sound, “Maybe we can consider that for a time when I’m not tempted to beat you senseless.”
“Sure,” he said, closing his fingers around mine and squeezing.
It was by no means a resolution; it didn’t magically make everything he’d done, or hadn’t done, disappear into the ether. It was, however, a start.
And maybe it was the start of something even better than we’d had to that point.
There was only one way to find out.
EPILOGUE
Three YearsLater
Momentarily free fromthe chatter and laughter of the dining room, I poured myself another drink and made my way from the party toward the darkness of one of the large balconies of my family’s estate. The smell of the sea was strong as I walked out, breathing in the scent that reminded me of my childhood and letting it sink into my skin and bones with comforting ease.
I took a sip and realized I wasn’t alone, turning to find Luka leaning against the door, champagne in hand as he watched me with a gentle smile. The last I had seen of him, he had absconded with Hannah, and the two had gone, full of giggles and alcohol, to ‘talk.’ I suspected that involved embarrassing photos of me from our childhood. Hannah had always moaned that anyone I dated had never been around enough for her to bring them into the family circle to show the truly embarrassing pictures. Considering how much of a shine she had taken to Luka, I suspected she had taken the opportunity.
“And what photo album did she show?” I asked as he approached.
“She said you’d know what we were doing,” he said in a voice that was a little thick; he and Hannah had obviously not relented on the sauce.
“She’s my sister, I know what she gets up to.”
“Funny, she said something similar about knowing you were going to grumble and bitch about it. She seemed excited at that, actually.”
I rolled my eyes. “She has always delighted in driving me up a wall. If she could have found a way to turn it into a career, she would have done that full-time rather than go to law school.”
He snorted, standing beside me at the railing, looking out on the inky black canvas that was the ocean. “It’s funny. A lot of us are raised with the idea that rich people don’t act like a family. The moms undermine their children, and the fathers are abrasive control freaks. The kids are raised by a nanny, only seeing their parents when they need to be punished or when they need to be seen as a family.”
The idea was hilarious; my mother would have been a little hurt, and my father would have been bewildered. “Did you mention that to them?”
“God no, I’m drunk, not an asshole,” he said, wrapping his arm around mine and leaning against my shoulder. “I’m glad it wasn’t like that for you and Hannah. I loved your parents from the first time I met them, and your sister is hell on wheels, but the fun kind.”
“They adore you,” I said, leaning my head against his. “Hannah says I’d be an idiot if I do anything to lose you. And my mom has already started making subtle hints about marriage.”
Luka laughed. “Subtle, right. She asked me earlier if I thought it was necessary for at least one of the men to wear white if it’s a gay wedding.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“I told her white originally represented innocence, and it was safe to say that innocence didn’t come into play with you or me.”
“Oh my God, Luka!”
“I said I was drunk!”
I snorted, ducking my head and shaking it. “Please tell me Hannah wasn’t there.”
“She’ll probably be laughing about it for a week,” he said with a smile. “Your dad choked on his drink, but he kept trying not to laugh while your mom wrapped her head around it. I apologized, though, it just kind of...came out.”
“You’re already forgiven, I can promise you that,” I assured him. “She’s probably going to say it was her fault for trying to make sure there was always a drink in your hand.”
“They’re good drinks,” he said with a sigh. “As much as I love what I do, it would be nice if I could have a drink once in a while.”
“You can literally leave the resort, drive in any direction, and find a bar,” I pointed out. Considering he’d put in three years at Arete, he could take time off if he wanted, even weekends. Plus, he regularly met with Marc Shepherd in his office, where I knew there were plenty of drinks from my own visits.
