Sofia snickered behind me, and I shot a glare her way. “Not helping.”
“I’ve got your back.” Enzo lifted Sofia in his arms then took her seat, settling her on his lap. He winked then started to make out with my sister.
“What the hell?” I would need to wash my eyes out.
“Get your tongue out of my sister’s throat,” Marco roared while the girls laughed. I could see the humor and almost thanked Enzo for what he just did, but it was gross. With the distraction, I swooped up Hailey’s coat from where she’d dropped it on the back of the couch, grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet. Then I maneuvered through everyone while my brothers argued with Sofia, who was furious that they thought they had any right to dictate what she did with her husband.
I sighed then yelled over my shoulder that we were leaving. I owed Enzo, and I didn’t like it. Once we were by the front door, I helped her into her coat before opening the door. Fat snowflakes fell in lazy swirls before adding to the blanket of white that covered everything in our path.
Hailey shivered, and I pulled her close. “Not a fan of the snow?”
“I like it when I’m inside and warm.”
I couldn’t fault her logic there. It was still early, before lunch. As I opened the passenger door for her, an idea popped into my head—a particularly appealing one after the bullshit with my brother. He was trying to get a rise out of me, and I was annoyed that it had worked. He’d done the same thing with Teresa atThe Coffee Stop, but it hadn’t bothered me.
I pressed the start button on the Maserati, and the engine roared to life. We traveled down the long driveway, past the gates, then onto the road heading toward the highway. Only, we weren’t heading home. I had other plans in mind.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HAILEY
The scenery flew by in a blur of cars and white tufts of snow. I should’ve been nervous because of the road conditions and the sports car, but I wasn’t. Trey’s confidence obliterated any need for worry. As the miles ticked along, I couldn’t help the warmth in my stomach over the way he had reacted to his brother’s teasing. Trey hadn’t liked it, and that made me pause. There was no denying that I had feelings for him, and I wondered whether he had them for me.
When we merged onto another highway, I pulled myself from my thoughts, not recognizing the new route. “Where are we going?”
“To the airport.”
“Why?” With the ransom deadline the next day, I wasn’t sure I liked the change of plans. At least my clothes from the boutique were in the car. He took his eyes from the road, and I sucked in a breath at the visible emotion.
“Why not? We have the time, and I’m not due back at the hospital for a week. Let’s go to the Caribbean, soak up some sun, and walk on the beach.”
I laughed, feeling carefree and happy for the first time in… I couldn’t even remember when. “Well, when you put it like that.”
Trey’s grin was wicked, and I prepared myself for a wild ride. He floored it, and we got to the airport in half the time. No commercial flight for us. He’d called ahead, and his family’s jet was ready and waiting for us. Everything moved quickly from that point. We boarded into the lap of luxury with captain’s chairs that fully reclined, a gourmet lunch, and even a bedroom in the back, which we did not use.
Less than four hours later, we were off the jet and in the sweltering humidity of Grand Cayman. A car whisked us to a sprawling beachfront mansion complete with an infinity-edge pool and hot tub.
Out of the car, I lifted my hair off my neck as we walked to the front door, trying to stop the thick strands from adding to the overwhelming heat. “Please tell me the house has air conditioning.”
Trey entered a code into the security panel then pushed open the door. A waft of chilled air beckoned, and I readily followed it inside. “Is this your place?” It was beautifully decorated—white walls with pops of colors in varying shades of blue and gray. It was elegant but still had a beachy vibe.
“It’s family owned.” Trey walked toward the back of the house, and I followed.
Mostly floor-to-ceiling windows and a giant slider that led to the back of the house came into view as I entered the kitchen and living room. Water views were showcased from every window, and I fell in love. If I could have lived there, I would happily have done so.
“I thought we’d take advantage of the house being empty while we can,” he said before opening a door off the living room, which had a shiplap accent wall. “Sofia’s bedroom is at the end of the hall and on the right. You can borrow clothes and a bathing suit. She won’t mind.”
I wandered into a spacious bedroom and got hung up on the view again. The closet caught my eye—another room in itself but fitting of Sofia—and I hurried to find a bathing suit to wear to take advantage of the beautiful weather while I could. I picked out a black bikini, found a hair tie, and did the best I could with my hair, which was expanding into a mass of curls. It took some effort, but I managed to gather it into a messy bun.
My pulse jackhammered as I looked around the spacious bedroom.What am I doing?I liked him. A lot. But my track record with men was dismal at best. My insecurities bombarded me, as did the worst dating experiences from my past.
My best friend wasn’t the only one who had terrible luck when it came to love. At least Justin wasn’t awkward and destined for catastrophe. Case in point was my ex, Jacob Martin, the reason I’d left MIT. Jacob had been the star pitcher for the baseball team, highly sought after with his Ken-doll all-American good looks. I didn’t normally go for those kinds of guys. Not since the nightmare of my fourth grade first love who’d decided to show the notes I’d passed him to the entire grade.
My sister had been the opposite. Guys panted after her. She was the “it” girl, always had been, at home and at school. That didn’t matter to me because she was also my best friend. Kasey always had my back—my stupid crush in fourth grade found that out the hard way when she publicly blackballed him from kickball for what happened to me. Then she told everyone the notes were his, and he’d pawned them off as mine. My sister was awesome like that.
Then she’d died. Dad too.
Lonely, desperate for physical contact, and mourning the loss of half my family, I’d tried again at the end of middle school to another disaster of epic proportions—Steven Riley, a member of the popular clique. When he’d asked me out, I was thrilled, and rightly so. Every girl in school was in love with him and apparently knew him on an intimate level.