Brothers of Paradise Series

I laugh, feeling light, like a balloon ready to float up to the ceiling. “Because we earned it. We won.”Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Co-won.”

“No,” I say, lacing my fingers through his. “We won.”

He’s wearing that slanted smile that’s so uniquely his. “This is how it starts, isn’t it? I’m forced to change my attitude, one peppy comment at a time.”

“I’m not going to stop challenging you.”

“Good.” He reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a USB stick. “And to think I had an entire speech prepared. I’ve never begged in my life, Ivy, but I was prepared to beg for your forgiveness.”

“What’s this?”

“The pictures you deleted from my computer? The ones from Bali?”

The nude pictures. “I remember.”

“Well, they’d already been backed up to my hard drive. Automatic save and all that. I transferred them all to this USB. I didn’t peek, and there are no other copies.” He puts the memory stick in my hand, closing my fingers around them. “Yours to do exactly what you want with.”

My hand tightens around the memory stick, a flood of emotions threatening to drown me. Perhaps Rhys sees that, because he presses a kiss to my temple, his hand curving around my waist. “I’m on your side, Ives. No one else’s.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ll never lie to you again. I want to be so honest it tears me apart.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, looking up at him. “We’re back to violent metaphors?”

“Seems like it,” he murmurs, bending his lips to my ear. “As much as I want to get out of here, I think we’ve misplaced our siblings somewhere.”

Grinning, I slide the memory stick into my handbag and take his hand in mine. He grips mine back firmly, pushing the door open with his free hand. “After you.”

Rhys

“Did you grab this from my apartment?” I ask, holding up the old paperback.

Ivy untangles her legs from the blanket, reaching for the pre-loved book. “Yes, and I’m enjoying it so far.”

“You’ll hate it when you get to-”

“Don’t you dare,” she says, holding up a finger to my lips. “Not again.”

I grin beneath her finger. “I really thought you’d read the other one before.”

“Yes, well, I hadn’t.”

“I’ll be quiet this time,” I promise, sinking down on the couch beside her. She tucks a leg over mine and opens the book again, finding her spot easily. She dog-ears books, and I don’t. One of the many things we’d discussed over the last two months. One of a hundred debates, many started just for the heck of it. More than one had ended passionately.

I reach for my own manuscript, a novel one of my editors had sent along to me. Think this one could be big, she’d written. And so far I’m inclined to agree.

My hand traces lazy circles on Ivy’s leg as we read. Spending weekends like this has become increasingly common, something of a ritual. Wake up late and languorously in bed. Argue about which piece of the morning newspaper we read. Argue over how we take our coffee.

And then read until the sun is high in the sky.

This weekend is different, being back in Paradise Shores, but our routine still holds true.

“I got my first new shoot,” Ivy says, flipping over a page. “Did I tell you?”

I put the manuscript down. “No, you didn’t.”

“Checked my email earlier, and it was there, waiting for me. I’m booked for a toothpaste ad.” To punctuate her words, she shoots me a wide, white-toothed smile.

“Ivy, that’s awesome.” The new agency she’s recently signed with is far smaller than Star Models, but they respect her studies and let her have a say in what she works on.

“You don’t have to lie,” she teases. “I know it’s commercial.”

“Hey, toothpaste needs to be sold. It’s a public good. In fact, the more people you can encourage to buy it, the better.”

She laughs. “Yes, I’m doing people a favor.”

I fit my hand to the crook of her waist, my favorite place to grip. “Congrats, Ivy.”

“Thank you.”

“I want to shoot you one of these days, by the way.”

Her grin flashes again. “Don’t say that when we’re in public.”

“Funny.”

“You shoot me all the time?”

“Not enough. Can’t believe I’m saying this either, but I’d love to shoot you for a big campaign again. Something of our choosing, this time.”

“We can shoot later today, if you want.” The light filtering in through the curtains of Lily’s seaside cottage gilds her blonde hair, natural and tousled, and dances across the freckles on her nose.

“I’d like to photograph you on the sailing boat.” I slide my hand higher, running fingers over her cheek. “The pictures from a few days ago came out really well.”

I’d used my old Canon, with natural grainy texture and a higher contrast ratio. She’d sat in my apartment, on the windowsill, and I’d caught her and New York beyond. Her eyes drift closed as my fingers move to tangle through her hair, loose and wild. “I haven’t told you what I’ve done with the pictures you took of me in Bali.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“I didn’t delete them.”

My fingers still. “No?”

“The USB is in the safety deposit box in my apartment. I looked through all the pictures the other day, after you dropped me off at home.”

“What did you think?”