One Last Rainy Day: The Legacy of a Prince(29)

“Then why did you call me here?” A question he answers for himself. “We both know if he had fifty more pounds on him, this would have been a shit show. You have got to get a handle on whatever is festering inside you. And if it’s Cecelia—”

“It’s not. I’ve made my decision. We’re moving forward.”

“You sure, man?”

Gripping my door handle, I glance over at him. “Whatever it takes.”





“Get that asshole out of my pool,” Cecelia orders Sean from the lounger they’ve been bickering on since we got here.

I press my lips together.

Sorry mouse, the water feels too fucking good.

Sun-drenched and weightless for the first time in fuck knows how long, I crack open my beer and survey the yard. Tyler makes quick work of unpacking our cooler as Cecelia gives Sean hell for not having her back during our little showdown.

“Tell me you didn’t miss me,” he prompts, crowding her on the chair.

“Irrelevant. If I can’t trust you to have my back when I need you, what’s the point?”

Doing my best to drown out their drama, it’s Sean’s last confession that has my ears perking back up. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I don’t know what that is when it comes to you.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, for both our sakes, I should probably leave you alone, but I’m not fucking going to.”

There it is—the truth he refuses to spare either of us as he kisses her to drill his point home. As I thought, he’s been fighting himself when it comes to her—while I’ve made a firm decision the predicament will remain his and his alone. Tipping my beer, I survey the sparkling pool and surrounding grounds while I tune in on their back and forth.

“. . . Father has security cameras set up everywhere, and he’s already threatened me about having company. This isn’t going to bode well.”

Which is precisely the reason for our ambush today.

Surprisingly, Sean lets her in on the camera surveillance solution, me, but not the when.

Sean really does trust her, and due to my decision to let her through—if only to hasten serving up Roman’s justice—means she’ll be privy to a lot more in the coming days and weeks. But whatever Sean’s thinking about regarding Cecelia long term is delusional. On that, I decide to let my brother be the one to break it to him when the time comes.

At the moment, Roman is boarding a plane for a day trip to one of his Detroit plants, which gives us just enough time to get in and out. When the subject is redirected to me, Sean pleads my case. “Look, he isn’t easy. But he’s here because he wants to be.”

Part truth, part lie.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? The guy is a motherfucker.”

Tipping my beer to again hide my grin, Tyler intervenes. “Good. Mom and Dad made up. Time to celebrate.” He sprays them with a beer as Cecelia’s laughter rings out, and Sean and I lock eyes as I ready myself to play my part.

My turn to make nice.

He scoops Cecelia up honeymoon style and delivers her to me by jumping them both into the pool. Breaching water, she sputters out her scold as they begin to coo at one another until Sean’s cellphone rings. He immediately exits the pool darting a glance my way before he answers with a, “Hey, Dad.”

Right now, Dad is being played by Jeremy. He’s giving us the all clear, stating Roman’s plane is climbing toward an altitude he can’t be reached—and we can’t be monitored.

Feeling the weight of her familiar stare, Cecelia inches toward me, where I lean against the shallow end wall. Her eyes roaming over me in an unmistakable way.

“I suppose you want an apology,” I say, close enough to drink in every detail. She’s pure temptation—long, drenched, slightly fire-kissed hair, perfect fucking features, bee-stung lips, palm-sized tits, toned torso, ample curves—a literal wet fucking dream. The triangle of material between her thighs hovers just above the water as she inches toward me.

Despite the grudge I have against her maker, she really is the most beautiful fucking girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. Along with a mix of things that would allure any man—innocent and forbidden.

A mouthwatering combination of fire and water.

But despite my body’s constant reaction to her—not for me.

“I won’t hold my breath,” she scoffs.

Downing my beer, I hold up a finger. “Okay, I think I’m ready . . .” I exaggerate my exhale. “I’m sorry I told Sean I caught you staring at my dick.”

She surprises me by tossing her head back and laughing, and I can’t help my return smile. Her eyes widen at the sight of it before she speaks up.

“You are a rare bastard.”

“I prefer motherfucker.” Her eyes bulge. Yeah, I heard you, mouse.

“At least then, it would be somewhat factual. Isn’t that right, Tyler?”

We both glance over to Tyler, who shoots me the finger, adding in a “Fuck You.”

Cecelia and I share a grin as her navy eyes dance along my profile, dipping further with every word she speaks. “You had your door open. I was surprised, to say the least.”

“And the other five minutes?” I quip.

“Do women actually sleep with you?”