Brothers of Paradise Series

She’s learning knots faster than I am.

“Why are you going further away?” he complains.

I smile. “Come here.”

“There are cushions right here.”

“Yes, but I can lie back flat here. Come on.”

His eyebrows knit together, but he does what I ask, sitting down beside me on the deck. A gust of wind catches my hair and tugs tendrils loose from my braid.

“Okay,” he says. “This is nice.”

That makes my smile widen. I’ve been doing so much of it for the past weeks. I still struggle under the perceived ideals, ones I’ve internalized. But with my own business growing, with Emma loving her new school, with Lee gone for good…

I can just be me.

And I’m in love with the man beside me. “So if boats are your favorite thing-”C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

“Second favorite thing,” he says.

“Right. I’m your favorite?”

“Naturally,” he agrees.

I wrap an arm around his neck and tug him down with me. He braces himself on a forearm, surprise in his eyes.

“You’ve done a lot of things on boats, I’m sure,” I say, bending my leg to twine over his. The October day is mild, and there’s not another boat in sight. I feel wild, and teasing, and high on life. “But have you ever had sex on one?”

He lifts his head. Dark blue eyes widen, and he grows still. “Jesus. No, I have not.”

“Well then,” I say, and notch my leg around his hip.

Parker is perfectly still for another two seconds. And then he’s kissing me, and I laugh against his eager lips.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs against my ear. “You know that, right? Absolutely perfect.”

I reach down for the button on his pants. “Maybe I just know you very well.”

Ten minutes later I’m flat on my back on the boat and Parker is moving deep within me. His skin is sun-warm and his hair tickles against my forehead with every thrust. We’re only partially undressed, but it’s enough, and I bury my head against his neck. Hold him tight while we race to the finish line.

When the fire has passed, I look past his shoulder to the deep blue sky above us and keep my knees locked tight around him.

Tears leak down the outer corners of my eyes, dampening my hair at the temples.

“Jamie?” he murmurs. He’s carrying most of his weight on his arms, and I tighten my grip on him. He relaxes with a grumble, letting me feel all of him. I’m pressed down against the ocean even as I stare at the sky. The sea around us is endless and boundless, but I feel anchored here, with his body against mine.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He gives a huff at my ear. “I’ll never tire of hearing you say that.”

I wonder why I fought so hard against sailing when I was a teenager. Why I had to rebel at every turn, or why I needed to argue just to feel seen. It seems you learn some things too late, and others too early.

But some things? Some things you learn just when you need to. This is one of those things.

We are one of those things.

We have dinner at the yacht club that evening with the entire family. Kristen has added a few extra fall items to the menu, and in the Marchand family text thread, Lily had hinted at it being necessary to pull the entire family together.

“It’ll be an announcement,” Parker says on the way there. “You know it will be.”

“Maybe,” I say. I’d been working out of Lily’s gallery the past week, sitting side by side with her when she takes calls and I design. She’d seemed completely normal. “But maybe it’s for someone else? And she’s throwing off the scent?”

He runs a hand along his jaw. “Could be. Emma, wait for us!”

My daughter stops ahead of us on the sidewalk, rocking back on her heels, and gives us an impatient look. “You’re walking slow,” she accuses us.

“Oh?” I reach out a hand. “Want to fly?”

She nods. With one hand in Parker’s and another in mine, we lift her high between us with every few jumps. I’d explained to her, after Lee left, that her father and I had come to an understanding. That he wouldn’t be returning to us again.

I’d dreaded the conversation, my heart in my throat, waiting for her reaction. But she’d looked at me very seriously. “So he’s never coming back?”

“Probably not any time soon, no.”

She’d considered. “That’s okay, Mommy.”

“It is?”

“Yes.” She’d looked down at her Play-Doh, and reached for the purple color. “I like you with the captain.”

A breath escaped me. Thank God.

“So it’s okay if I keep being with him?”

“Yes. He’s going to teach me sailing when I turn eight.” She’d wiggled from side to side, a little dance, and stacked her Play-Doh colors. “The square knot, and the thief knot, the clove… the clove knot…” she’d sing-songed.

So here we are, weeks later, walking with Emma between us toward the yacht club. My resilient daughter and our new life in Paradise.

The table Stephen has reserved for us is in the back of the restaurant, along the ocean-facing windows. Hayden and Lily are already there, along with little Jamie, who waves at Emma with a pack of crayons in hand. She takes off to sit next to him.

The rest fill up soon. Henry and Faye, and little Hazel. Michael and Eloise Marchand and then, late as always, Rhys and Ivy, coming hand-in-hand through the restaurant.

Halfway through the dinner, Michael gives Parker the ultimate compliment. “This is delicious,” he says, motioning toward his chowder. “You’ve done a great job with this place.”

Parker smiles easily. “Thanks, Dad.” He drapes an arm over the back of my chair. It’s without thinking, without asking, and I lean into his side. We belong.

Across the restaurant, a group of people I recognize follow Stephen to their table. It’s Turner and Blair, and a few other people I remember from high school. People who’d moved in the same crowd as Parker and Hayden.