Page 11 of Before It Was Love

I frown. Sophia hates being the subject of gossip.

“You know I don’t pay any attention to the gossip.”

“You and your loathing of gossip.”

I hate gossip. It’s what caused Sophia to flee to Atlanta where I couldn’t keep an eye on her.

“Your sister needs a new place to live,” I say instead of getting into another discussion about gossiping.

His brow wrinkles. “Why? I thought she had an apartment in one of your buildings.”

“Plumbing’s messed up. I need to gut her bathroom, but I don’t have time for it. I’m on a deadline to finish the project at the resort.”

“Plumbing? What happened?”

I scowl. Your sister answered the door in a towel and my cock nearly exploded.

“Shit. Sophia didn’t throw herself at you again, did she?”

I wish she had. I could have ripped her towel off and seen all those curves I’ve been dreaming about for years in the flesh. Touched every single inch of her skin. I bet it’s soft as silk.

I’d fist her long, blonde hair while I devoured her mouth. I’ve been dying to get my lips on her pink, pouty ones since the last time she kissed me. It’s been over a decade, and I can still taste her strawberry flavor.

I long to watch her hazel eyes flare with passion. I bet she’s wild in bed. The woman doesn’t hold back when she wants something.

“Nah.” I force nonchalance. “She was too busy dealing with her eyes. She got shampoo in them.”

I’ve imagined grasping her hand and leading her to the shower to rinse the shampoo out of her hair before taking her against the wall of the shower about a million times since this afternoon. I had to rush home after work and jack off in the shower or I would have shown up to meet Weston with a raging hard-on for his sister.

The bartender slams two bottles of beer on the counter in front of us. “Two Five Fathoms Summer IPAs. Courtesy of the ladies over there.” He nods to a group of women sitting at a table near the stage.

Weston raises his bottle and salutes them with it. “I do love tourist season.”

It’s barely June and I’m already over it.

“Are you coming to the poker game next week?”

And be forced to spend the evening fighting a hard-on every time I catch a glimpse of Sophia? “Nah. I’m backed up at work.”

He frowns. “You’re never too busy for a family gathering.”

“It’s not my family. It’s yours.”

He scowls. “What the hell are you talking about? My family is your family.”

Which is the reason why I need to keep my grubby paws off of Sophia. Weston is my family. My only family. He’d castrate me if I touched his little sister. It’s why I told him about the kiss in the first place. I didn’t want him to hear it from someone else. He would have decked me before I had the chance to explain.

I didn’t expect him to tell the entire island his little sister had a crush on his best friend. Does he not realize how he humiliated Sophia? How he drove her away? My hand tightens on my bottle until my knuckles ache.

“The deadline for the resort is looming. I can’t come to work hungover.”

He chuckles. “If your poker skills were better, you wouldn’t end up drunk.”

“We could play normal poker instead of drunk poker.”

“Normal poker’s boring.”

I don’t know why I asked. The Milton family doesn’t believe in doing anything normal. Sunday family meal? Nope. They’d rather play drunk poker.

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