RIAN
It isn’t until after I’ve given Pierce the tour that Marley informs them we’re the selling agents. She was right, my paranoia was unfounded, but then, she wasn’t the one to inadvertently help our father swindle millions of dollars out of unsuspecting families. Surprisingly, they don’t try to negotiate the commission down.
Pierce refuses to put in an offer without having a private conversation with his brother. Lawson is ridiculously keen on buying the property, ready to throw out whatever figure is necessary. Pierce wants to make sure the minor renovations needed can be done in a time-sensitive manner so they can capitalize on potential summer revenue. It’s smart. Pierce is smart. Logical where his brother seems impulsive.
We leave them to discuss it with the expectation that they’ll call before four in the afternoon with an offer, otherwise we’re going through with the open house the following day. Marley and I lounge on the deck, anxiously watching the minutes tick by as we wait.
Pierce calls at 3:39. Not Lawson. Pierce. And he calls my phone, not Marley’s.
“You still haven’t answered my text messages from this morning,” he says by way of greeting.
“Is this a social call or a business call?”
“Both.”
“It can’t be both. It has to be one or the other.”
“Why can’t it be both?”
“You have twenty minutes until your window of opportunity closes.”
“To get into your panties tonight?”
“Do you ever stop?”
“Not really.”
“I’m talking about putting an offer in on the house. Your time is running out. We can’t do social until we’re done doing business, and social doesn’t include getting into my panties, FYI.” Such a lie. Although it won’t be the mint-green ones I was wearing earlier, those are already in the laundry pile, courtesy of the effects of that kiss we shared.
“Okay. Let’s clear up the business first. We can talk about your panties later. We’re putting in an offer.”
“If you’re putting in an offer, you should be talking to Marley, not me.”
“I don’t want to talk to Marley. I want to talk to you.”
I sigh and put the phone on speaker, dropping it on the table between our loungers. “I draw up papers. Marley presents offers. You have to deal with both of us.”
“You know what would make this even easier?”
“If you dealt with Marley?”
“If we came over there and discussed it in person.” I roll my eyes at Marley, but before I can respond, Pierce says, “We’ll be there in less than ten.”
“You only have nineteen minutes left to make an offer. You better get your rear in gear.”
“Get the paperwork started.”
“Don’t tell me wh—”
The call cuts out.
I huff, annoyed. “It better be a good offer.”
Pierce and Lawson come sauntering up the stairs to the deck like they own the place—which they do—a few minutes later. Lawson is wearing board shorts and the same open, button-down shirt as before. Pierce is no longer wearing a dress shirt and tie. Now he’s sporting a pair of board shorts and he has a T-shirt slung over his shoulder, Trip on his heels.
“Let’s make a deal, ladies.” Lawson pulls up two deck chairs.
Pierce gives me a slow perusal. “I was expecting the pink bikini, but I think I might like this one even better.”
I’m wearing my yellow polka-dot bikini. It’s superfun and has a cute little tie right between my boobs, which is where Pierce’s gaze snags as he takes a seat beside his brother. Trip sits in front of Pierce, tongue lolling and tail wagging. He’s so freaking adorable. The dog, not the man. The man is gorgeous. And he knows it, based on the way he flexes his abs when I accidentally caress them with my eyes.
“Bottom line, gentlemen.” Marley slaps the arms of her chair, apparently unfazed by everyone’s half-dressed state, including her own. “You need to put your best offer on the table. If they don’t like it, they’re going to hold an open house tomorrow and you’ll be out of luck.”
Lawson slaps the arm of his chair. I can’t tell if he’s making fun of Marley or they have the same mannerisms. “We’ll go ten over asking.”
“This place will go into a bidding war. It’s the only house for sale on this end of the beach since you’re not selling yours anymore, and there’s nothing comparable in Hamptons Bay,” Marley counters. “Everyone who was expecting to come to your open house will now be at theirs. But if ten over is your best, Rian will prepare the paperwork.”
I’m already typing away on my laptop, pulling up the documents—which are set to go apart from the dollar amount because I knew they were going to put in an offer, it was just a matter of how close they planned to cut it.
“We’ll go $819K, so twenty over asking.”
“Whoa, what? This is a bungalow, Lawson.” Pierce’s head whips around, as if this is news to him.
Lawson gives him a look. “Best offer, bro. Get with the program. We’ve got three minutes to make a move.”
“Fine, $819K, but you’re cutting into my reno budget with this.” Pierce looks annoyed. “Next time you don’t get to waffle until the eleventh hour.”
“I’ll call the seller. Hopefully your offer will offset your down-to-the-wire timing,” Marley grabs her phone.
“It’s on you if we don’t get this,” Pierce mutters to his brother.
I stand with my laptop propped on my hip, grateful for the opportunity to go inside and throw on a sundress so I can feel more business than beach babe. “I’ll get the paperwork together.”
The seller—the Franklins—pick up on the fourth ring, at 3:58 p.m. Talk about cutting it close. I prepare the paperwork and have Pierce and Lawson sign the documents so we can present the offer.
We spend the next two hours with the sellers. We priced it high and they’ve been offered well over asking, so the Franklins are thrilled.
By seven thirty the only thing we have left to do is make sure the financing is secure. We have to wait until Monday when the banks are open since Lawson and Pierce put in a cash offer, which speaks to their capital if they can fork over more than three quarters of a million in cash without lopping off body parts.
“We’re totally going out and getting hammered tonight!” Marley says as soon as she hangs up with Lawson, the proud new owner of a seriously outdated house in need of about forty thousand dollars in upgrades and renovations. I know. I did the math when we talked about putting it on the market and whether we could afford to buy it from the seller.
On the upside, the commission on this place puts us in the market for a flip once that money is in our account.
Marley’s right to want to celebrate. This is exactly what we’ve been working all these years for. We’re finally out of the crapper and on our way up. Not Mission Mansion up yet, but maybe one day. It’s a dream that feels far out of reach, but this is a step closer.
I jump into the shower and let Marley do my hair and makeup while we polish off the bottle of white wine left for Gel and Lauren, who are still uncertain as to whether or not they’ll be able to make the trip tomorrow since Noodles isn’t 100 percent symptom free. I even let Marley pick out my dress—it’s supertight with a plunging neckline and an ultrashort hem.
“I don’t know about this. I feel like I’m going to struggle to keep all my assets covered.” Every time I pull on the hem to cover more leg, I reveal more cleavage.
“Which is why it’s perfect.” Marley tosses me a pair of electric-purple heels. The dress is lawn green. I like bright colors, but this is a lot, and not enough at the same time.
“These are a bit much, aren’t they?” Does electric purple go with lawn green? I don’t know. I feel like I should be in a nineties’ music video.
“Nope. Put them on.” I’m already tipsy enough that I’m starting to think this outfit is a great idea and that my butt looks fantastic.
I stuff my identification, credit card, lipstick, and phone into my tiny clutch.
As soon as I close my purse my phone vibrates. I’ve already messaged Pierce, letting him know that Marley and I are going out to celebrate. If I happen to run into him, I’m not opposed to a little celebration of the orgasm variety.
I’m two drinks and two shots into my night and currently leaning on the railing on the perimeter of the dance floor, keeping an eye on my sister—there are at least two different groups of guys head bopping within a three-foot radius of her. I’m sure they’re all playing rock, paper, scissors to see who gets to take her home at the end of the night. It’s happened before.
A hand settles on my hip and I turn with the intention of telling whoever it is to back off, but when I look up, I get an eyeful of Pierce’s perfect face.
He leans down, cheek brushing mine, lips touching my ear. “You know, it would’ve been a lot easier to find you if you’d been more specific about where you’d be celebrating tonight.”
“There aren’t that many bars down here. I was pretty sure you’d be able to figure it out without too much trouble.”
Pierce chuckles and laces his fingers with mine. “Come on.”
I glance at Marley, who gives me a thumbs-up and then goes back to grinding her butt against some random on the dance floor as Pierce tugs me toward the outdoor patio.
It’s a little quieter out here, the music not so throbbingly loud.
Pierce maneuvers us through the impatient crowd until we’re at the bar. He cages me with his arms from behind, his chest pressed against my back, protecting me from the throng of bodies three deep behind us. The bartender seems to know him personally, so we’re able to secure drinks quickly—I opt for water this time, aware I’m tipsy and already planning to make questionable decisions where this man is concerned tonight. I don’t need every last one of my inhibitions gone.
Drinks in hand, Pierce links our fingers again, leading me through the crowd to a secluded corner on the patio.
He clinks his beer against my water bottle. “Congratulations on the sale.”
“Congratulations on the buy.” I take a long swig from the bottle, unsure where we’re going from here.
He leans against the railing, apparently getting comfortable. “Why didn’t you tell me you were in real estate last night?”
“Marley does more of the selling and networking. I’m the numbers girl.”
“And why is that?” He tips his head, observing me in a way that makes me nervous.
“She’s better with people than I am.”
“Says who?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
I shrug and look away. “It’s the way it is with us. She likes the limelight and I like behind the scenes.”
“That’s interesting, considering the dress you’re currently wearing.”
I’m suddenly hyperaware of the way Pierce is looking at me; as if I’m something he’d like to devour. A trickle of sweat works its way down my spine, and the cool breeze from the water makes me shiver. “It’s Marley’s.”
“Why am I not surprised? I’m on the fence about whether or not I’d like to thank her for all the attention you’re drawing in this. I thought I might have to throw a couple of punches with the way all the guys in there were looking at you.”
“No one was looking at me.”
“You’re adorably oblivious, you know that?” He moves in closer, angling himself so he almost acts as a shield, blocking me from the other people in the bar.
“Yes. Oblivious. You’re too busy worrying about what your sister’s getting up to to notice all the attention you get.”
Marley has always been the brightest star with the biggest personality, and I’ve always been in the background. Beyond that, after the family scandal a decade ago, it was better to be a wallflower than to stand out, like I am now in this ostentatious dress. “Someone has to take care of her and keep her out of trouble.”
“And what about you? Who takes care of you, Rian?” Although the question seems innocent, it’s far more loaded than he can understand or imagine.
“We take care of each other.” Nerves make my mouth dry.
Pierce leans in closer, fingers skimming my cheek. It’s the gentlest caress. “Why are you so guarded?”
“Why do you ask so many personal questions?”
“Because I like you and I’m trying to get to know you.”
“You like me because I let you screw me on a dryer.” I take another sip of water, my face as hot as the rest of my body.
“I liked you before that.” His grin widens. “And I like you more because of that.”
I gesture between us. “This isn’t a good idea if we’re going to be working for you and your brother.” Lawson is too hungry for this property for it to be the last he buys.
“Business is business. We can keep it separate. I had a lot of fun last night.” He dips his head and his cold fingers tilt my chin up. “I think you had fun too. I think we could have more fun, together.” His lips hover over mine. “What about you? What do you think?”
Flashbacks of last night flicker through my head like a slideshow on fast-forward when his chest meets mine and his thumb sweeps across my bottom lip. We have one more night at the beach house before we have to go back to our apartment and real life. Who knows what will happen after that? Based on our conversations, he’s only here temporarily, anyway. I can’t deny the sex was awesome, or that I kind of like how much joy he derives from antagonizing me. I could have a summer fling, the kind I should’ve had years ago, before my life fell apart.
I grace him with what I hope is the same cocky smile he likes to give me. “I’m up for some fun.”
“I knew you’d come around.”
He kisses me, a quick brushing of lips before he steps back. “Wanna get out of here?”
I find Marley to let her know I’m leaving with Pierce, to which I get a thumbs-up and a have fun. And then we’re out the doors, heading for the beach.
He crouches when we reach the sand and removes my shoes, carrying them as we walk down the beach. Quickly. I’ve had a few drinks and it’s fairly dark, aside from the moon and the stars and the porch lights from houses. We make it halfway down the beach before he spins me around, crushing my body against his. He takes my face between his palms and tilts my head back as his tongue sweeps inside. I latch onto his forearms, my legs turning watery under the unexpected but welcome kiss. We drop to the sand, mouths fused as I pull him over me.
“We should’ve left sooner.” He grinds his hips against me, his groan desperate, one hand shoved in my hair. The other smoothing down my side and then back up. He breaks the kiss, biting my bottom lip before nibbling his way down my throat. He palms my breast through the fabric, squeezing.
I bite my lip to stifle a moan. I can’t believe we’re back to making out on the beach. It might be deserted for the most part, but I can both hear and see the bar in the distance.
I’m too consumed to care, though, high on the sale and the buzz of hormones and alcohol. We’re both frantic mouths and roaming hands, tugging at fabric, unbuttoning, unzipping, pushing and pulling. Fingers explore, panties are pulled to the side, the tear of foil brings with it tangible relief to the ache between my thighs. Or bodies align and then he’s in me, the dark sky lit up with a million stars I can still see as my eyes close and I let sensation take over. We crash into each other like waves at high tide, desperate, chasing a building release.
“I’m gonna come, Rian, and I don’t want to go over the edge alone.”
“I’m right there with you,” I whisper into his ear.
Two thrusts later I come on a moan that he smothers with his mouth. The kiss is as vicious as the orgasm. He follows after me, movements erratic and intense as his own release steals his coordination.
After a few long, suspended moments, he lifts his head from the crook of my neck, thumb stroking along my jaw, eyes fixed on mine. And then he smiles. “We’re having a sleepover. We’re going to do this all night, and I’m going to cuddle you like a motherfucker after I finishing sexing every last orgasm out of you.”
“Okay.” I mean, what else can I really say to that?