Brothers of Paradise Series

I don’t know why this matters. But it feels like it does, another puzzle piece in Jamie’s return to Paradise.

She looks at me for a long time. Then she smiles, and it feels like the sun emerging after a rainy day. “Okay,” she says. “I’ll go with you.”

I grin, and kiss her, and when we finally make it out of the shower and she sees the time she has to run back home.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

Best workout ever.

JAMIE

I’m waiting by the porch of my mother’s house. The late summer air is hot and thick with late-blooming flowers, the sun is unchallenged by any clouds, and I’m giddy with nerves.

Emma and my mom aren’t home. They’d left a few hours earlier for the beach. My mother hadn’t been interested in attending a White Party for years, doesn’t share the same circle as Eloise and Michael Marchand, and Emma was excited about her new sandcastle equipment.

She’d oohed about my outfit before she left. You look so pretty! The white dress was a splurge, with all of my earnings earmarked for my savings account, and here I took a little bit out. But it had been on sale and I’d been unable to resist and here I am, standing on the porch of the house I grew up in and waiting for a man to come pick me up.

I feel like I’m living out an alternate reality, like I’m sixteen again. Like the past decade-plus never happened.

What would it have been like? If we’d done this a lot earlier? If I had my bad decisions in front of me instead of in the rearview mirror.

He comes walking up the street toward me and I lean against the porch, watching him. He’s wearing navy chinos and a white linen shirt. The dark blond hair is darker. Still a bit wet from his shower. I can identify it, even from this distance.

I can’t stop my excited smile.

Parker sees it, and an answering grin spreads across his own face. He bounds up the stairs in his old sailing shoes and stops in front of me. The same man I’ve known almost all my life, and yet brand new.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he says. “You look stunning.”

“You cleaned up pretty well yourself.”

His lips lift. “I’ve been known to wear a shirt once or twice. Now, James, I’m planning on kissing you hello. But is this door about to be opened by a six-year old?”

I shake my head. “She’s by the beach.”

“Perfect,” he says, and lowers his head to kiss me. Warmth travels through the simple, considerate touch all the way down to my feet.

We walk toward the boardwalk and the park with the gazebo that houses the yearly White Party. With each step, nerves rise in my stomach. There will be people from high school there, old teachers, friends of my mother’s, friends of my grandparents.

Parker puts a hand on my lower back and bends to speak in my ear. He smells like soap and cologne and I think of his groan in the shower earlier this week, when he’d looked at me like he might die if he couldn’t have me. “If you want to leave at any point, you just tell me,” he murmurs. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I say, and bump my elbow into his side. “But I was promised food first.”

He chuckles. “I’ve heard the restaurant catering is excellent.”

A live band is playing music in the gazebo, and beneath the marquees are tables filled with food, courtesy of the yacht club restaurant. I see the familiar kitchen staff. They’ll see us, too, I realize. Me and Parker together.

Everyone will.

It doesn’t take long for Parker to draw the attention of party-goers. He knows everyone, I realize, as the third couple stops us.

“Great job on the renovation,” a man says, slapping Parker on the shoulder. “The place somehow looks the same but ten times better.”

Parker smiles. “I’ll take it.”

“We tried the new menu last week,” his wife says. “The chowder was divine. A cheat meal, perhaps, but a hundred percent worth it.”

The same kind of small talk continues with person after person. I remain by his side and try to scan the crowd for Lily and Hayden.

“We even signed up to the newsletter!” a person says. “I heard there might be live music Fridays?”

“Yes.” Parker motions to me beside him. “That was Jamie’s idea. She’s the new graphic and web designer for the club.”

Five pairs of eyes turn to look at me. “Is that so?” one of them asks.

I clear my throat. “Yes. You can reserve a table online, too, now.”

A man I vaguely recognize nods. “About time. You’ve got a great head on your shoulders, Parker, to surround yourself with talented people.”

That’s how Michael Marchand finds us, with his son congratulated on a business endeavor he himself hadn’t originally supported.

“You made it,” he says to us both. “The food is good, Parker. You hired a new chef?”

“I did, yes.”

“My son, the restauranter,” Michael says. “Well, there’s no denying it. Your changes are popular.”

“That’s been my impression too,” Parker says. His voice is so smooth, so at ease, it’s hard to imagine him as anything but unbothered. But I can see as he puts on the smile, like when I pin my name tag to my shirt at work.

Lily and her mother join us, and then Hayden arrives and gives Parker a half hug, and the party becomes a Marchand family reunion.

“This is as good a time to announce it as any,” Parker says to us all. “I’ve bought a boat.”

Lily is the first to react. “What?!”

Eloise grabs her son’s arm. “Tell me it’s not to sail around the world. Non, I won’t have it.”

Parker gives her a half smile. “She could, but she would need a lot of work before getting to that stage.”

Michael’s eyes are sharp. “Tell me about her.”

They connect, as they always have, about sailing. It’s always been a cult in this town and them the most devoted of disciples. At one point Hayden chimes in and immediately attracts Lily’s ire.

“You knew about this?” she accuses.

He grins at her. “Yes.”

“I swore him to secrecy,” Parker says, hands up. “Didn’t want to jinx anything before the seller accepted my offer.”

Michael grills his son about the boat. They step aside, and speak in nautical terms I have no hope of understanding. Lily drags me away, and the following hour is spent in a daze of good food, nice company, and copious amounts of small talk.