Jordan
Can you just tell me if you’re a borderline psychopath or not?
Ouch. No cameras in the bathrooms or guest bedrooms. But they’re in all the other rooms. And my bedroom. I can turn those off, though.
I’d never sit and watch btw.
Jordan
Of course you wouldn’t.
You’d stand. Perv.
Night.
I chuckle under my breath. One thing’s for certain. Things are about to get very interesting.
I glance at Jensen and Alley. God, it looks uncomfortable, being that pregnant.
“How do you two have sex right now?” I lift my beer to my lips. “Seems challenging.”
They both laugh.
“Very carefully,” Alley says.
“Lots of doggy and reverse cowgirl,” Jensen adds, darting a glance at Alley for approval.
Alley doesn’t care. There are no lines or limits with the whole Adams family. She knows that. And she’s always loved that about them… and me… well, all of us.
They’re not blood, but they’re my family.
I learned a long time ago that the family you’re born into doesn’t mean shit.
It’s overrated.
Chapter Nineteen
JORDAN
Sabrinaand I walk into the great room of Sherry Wolf’s Hamptons beach house and come to a full stop.
Sabrina lets out a quiet gasp next to me. “Holy shit,” she whispers. “This is incredible.”
“I know,” I murmur back.
The floor-to-ceiling windows stretch across the back wall, overlooking the pool and what feels like a mile of sand in both directions. The space is massive without being gaudy. It’s undeniably classy.
And I get to help design her remodel.
I’m ecstatic.
My pappoús’ place in the Hamptons isn’t small. Nearly five thousand square feet and sitting on two acres, just steps from the beach. It’s old, but luxurious in every way. Matt’s penthouse is jaw-dropping, and so was the one I grew up in.
But this?
This is on an entirely different tier. Seventeen thousand square feet. Five acres. Extravagant in every way.
Sherry’s footsteps echo through the foyer. “Sorry about that,” she says, shoving her phone back into her purse.
