Page 13 of The Brooklyn Way

The house was a 3,200 square foot single story, 4-bedroom, 4-bathroom home. I chose it specifically because the vibe was exactly what I wanted in a beach house—low frills, wood floors, clean lines, and a view of the water from every room in the house.

From where we stood in the foyer, I could see the great room, the dining room, and the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered the million-dollar view of the ocean. Everywhere I looked there were windows. It was almost difficult to tell where my house ended and the outdoors began. The entire aesthetic gave new meaning to the phrase, “bringing the outside in.” If a person could love an inanimate object, then I loved my house. It was the most peaceful place on earth for me.

“Daaaayyyyuuuummm,” Tiara said softly, following that with a wolf whistle. “I can’t take my eyes off of the view of the water.”

“Me either.” I agreed.

“Or the interior.”

All the walls were painted a creamy, warm white. The only color I had agreed to allowing the designer to incorporate in small touches was blue. The trim was white oak. The furniture was high-end and comfortable, but not fussy. It was a modern space, but it wasn’t sterile or cold. I knew why Tiara liked it. We were beach babies, born and raised in a town that was butted up to the water. My house was the epitome of a beach house. It offered a familiar vibe and aesthetic.

I made my way to the wall of windows so I could reacquaint myself with the view. The view was my shit—calm, deep blue water under a peaceful pale blue sky. While I was standing there, Tiara spoke. Honestly, I’d forgotten that she was with me.

“You wanna show me the bedroom?” She took my hand in hers, intertwining our fingers.

Way back when, in another lifetime, Tiara and I dated. We were high school sweethearts… sort of, anyway.

Between schoolwork, the strictness of her father, my dedication to basketball and her dedication to cheerleading and dance, there wasn’t a lot of time for the two of us to be together. Still, we did manage to occasionally sneak away. We found opportunities to hang out together… to have sex.

I genuinely liked Tiara back then. She was pretty, athletic, perky, and sexy. What she lacked in stature, she more than made up for in personality. If the two of us didn’t have dreams and aspirations that would take us out of our hometown, we probably could’ve gotten married, had kids and made a good life for ourselves on Jackson Island. But that wasn’t in the cards for us.

I looked down at her. “What are you asking me, girl?”

She batted her eyelashes. They were those numbers that a lot of the women were wearing nowadays. The ones that were unnaturally long and fluffy.

The ones that caused me to stare rudely because I never could get used to them.

The ones that as a man, I couldn’t understand. I didn’t get where women were going with those. Were they trying to bring attention to their eyes? As a dude, I didn’t judge it; I just didn’t get it. I finally pulled my gaze away from the lashes and looked into her actual eyes.

“You know exactly what I’m asking you, twin. Stop playing in my face and show me the bedroom… so we can bless it. Or do you wanna get blessed right here?”

Those eyelashes were moving again. Distracting me again.

While I was busy wondering how those things didn’t poke her in the eye or at least make her eyes water, I almost missed her dropping to her knees. But when she reached out and grabbed the waistband of my joggers, I came out of my reverie.

“Nah. Nah.” I shook my head in the negative, while simultaneously catching her hands and stopping their movement.

I wasn’t new to how women moved. I got what she was trying to do. She was trying to establish herself as my person for the summer. The person who would have my attention. The person that I would fuck. The woman that all the other women would have to move out of the way in order to get next to me.

I wasn’t interested. I came to Jackson Island to chill. If I decided to fuck while I was at home, I didn’t want some ill-begotten, misplaced loyalty to Tiara to interrupt that. Whatever agenda Tiara had needed to be foiled.

“What?” She sounded so innocent as she kissed my dick through the fabric of my pants, mouthing at him.

And his showboating ass started to grow.

“Awwww,” she crooned. “He still likes me.”

I took a few steps back so that I was out of her reach. “Go smash whoever you were smashing before I got here… two minutes ago, Tiara. Don’t you belong to Ethan Washington? You know nothing can stay a secret on this island.”

“Ethan and I mess around occasionally. As far as ownership, I only belong to Tiara Smith.” She paused as she finally stood to her feet. “But I would be willing to negotiate with Cameron Field, if he wanted his name to be added to the deed.”

I laughed out loud. “You’re wild as hell, Tiara. So, you’ll put me on the deed?”

“You know you can get it, Cameron. I’ve been about you.”

I was surprised that she could get that lie out of her mouth with a straight face. Tiara wasn’t about me. Tiara was about Tiara. Always had been.

“Cap,” I commented.