The Maddox Brothers: Beautiful Burn Part 3

The door chimed, and a family of four walked in, already arguing about where to sit. It was tourist season, and although Sterling and I could be considered tourists, we'd both had homes there for more than eight years. Long enough to be annoyed by the non-resident tourists. We were what the locals called part-time families, and most of the time, if we shared the name of our neighborhood, they didn't even have to ask. Only one of our neighbors was a full-time family, and that was only because they were from Arkansas and moving to Estes Park was a dream not a vacation.

The two waitresses scurried between tables that were filling by the minute. Chelsea's sneakers occasionally squeaked on the apricot and white tiled floor while she collected orders and rushed to the back through the swinging doors of the kitchen. She would reappear with a smile, stopping on her way back to fill large plastic gla.s.ses at the drink station behind the bar lined with stools for the s...o...b..arders who frequented the cafe.

Body heat filled the room, and I noticed everyone peeling off layers. Chelsea was working up a sweat while tourists walked on the other side of the wall of windows bundled up in coats, scarves, knit hats, and gloves. The door would open, offering a blast of cool air, and Chelsea let everyone know when she would walk through a nice breeze with her sweet sigh.

Snow had just begun to fall in delicate pieces for the fourth day in a row. The resort was happy, and business was booming, but there was a storm coming, and I worried about Finley trying to make it in.

"How's Fin?" Sterling asked, seemingly reading my mind.

"She's in Rio. I think she's coming here."

"Oh?" Sterling wiped his nose with his knuckle and sniffed, a telltale sign that he was attempting to be nonchalant.

"You're so far inside the friend zone, Sterling. Time to give up."

He looked appalled. "I haven't tried to get her back in a long time."

"If a month ago is considered a long time."

He frowned. "I'm too tired for Ellie the b.i.t.c.h. Can you just try to be nice today?"

I jutted out my lip. "Aw, is Sterling on his period?"

He wasn't amused. "I'm going to leave you here, alone at this table."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I said.

"And leave plenty of room for fire boy to join you."

"What?" I asked, turning to see Tyler Maddox walk in with Zeke and a few more of his hotshot crew. I scooted down in my chair. "s.h.i.+t," I hissed. I sunk down in my seat. In my family, uncomfortable situations required something a lot stronger than orange juice, and the urge to go home and raid the liquor cabinet became overwhelming.

A warm pair of lips touched my cheek, and Tyler pulled a seat to the table. "Hi, baby. Did you miss me?"

"Are you mental? Do you hear voices?" I said, incensed.

"Just came in for lunch before we head back," Tyler said, directing his crew to sit.

Zeke sat on the other side of me, looking uncomfortable. "We can find another table."

"No," Tyler said. "We can't. Who's your friend?" he asked, motioning to Sterling.

"f.u.c.k," I murmured. I'd meant to run Tyler off. Instead, he'd gotten jealous and saw Sterling as compet.i.tion he could easily conquer.

Sterling held out his hand, but I slapped it away.

"That was some kiss earlier," Tyler said. "Makes me reminisce about the time she kissed me like that. Last night seems so long ago."

My face twisted into disgust. "Really? You're going there."

"I did, yeah," Tyler said, smug.

"Sterling doesn't care that I took advantage of you in my parents' bed last night."

"That was your parents' bed?" Tyler asked. "Had you already used yours once?"

"As a matter of fact," I began.

Zeke squirmed. "Tyler, c'mon, man. Let's just find another table."

Tyler glowered at Sterling, determined. "I like this one."

Sterling cleared his throat, unsure how to process the situation. "What do you like about it ... exactly?"

Tyler didn't take his eyes off mine. "Your friend."

I leaned in. "If you don't find another place to feed that hole in your face, I'm going to stand up right now and announce to everyone that you have a tiny p.e.n.i.s."

He wasn't fazed. "I can whip it out and prove you wrong."

"I'll start screaming at you for giving me chlamydia. You work here. This is a tight-knit town. Stuff like that gets around."

He shrugged. "You live here, too."

"Part-time. And I don't give two s.h.i.+ts what the people here think of me."

Chelsea brought Sterling's plate and placed it in front of him, and then mine, along with our drinks.

"We're ready to order," Tyler said.

I placed my palm against his face, my face falling, tears filling my eyes. "It's going to be okay, Tyler. The dripping will stop after a couple of rounds of antibiotics, and the itching will go away."

Chelsea made a face, looked at Tyler in disgust, and then stumbled over her next words. "I'll, um ... be ... I'll be right back."

Tyler looked at me, mouth hanging open.

Zeke chuckled. "She warned you."

Sterling poked around on his plate, tuning us out.

Tyler glanced back at Chelsea, who was whispering to the other waitress and the cook. They were looking at our table, repulsed. "Wow. You just sunk my battles.h.i.+p, Ellie."

I used my fork to cut into my omelet and took a bite, quite pleased with myself.

"Maybe I just want to be friends," Tyler said.

"Guys like you can't just be friends with someone who owns a v.a.g.i.n.a," I said.

Zeke nodded. "She has a point."

Tyler stood, gesturing for his crew to stand with him. They did, their chairs whining against the tile. "We got rid of all the idiots tras.h.i.+ng your house last night, and this is the thanks I get?"

I smiled up at him. "Under the douchebag faade, you're actually a nice guy. I was drunk last night, so my radar was a little off, but I can smell you from a mile away. I don't want to be your friend. I don't want to reminisce about that one-night stand we had that one time. I don't have time for nice guys, Tyler, and I can't imagine a more powerfully dirty h.e.l.l than to be forced to spend time with you sober."

He nodded to Sterling. "He looks like a nice guy to me."

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I was being the meanest I knew how, and Tyler was acting like we were trading pleasantries. "Sterling is a self-loathing, wretched piece of s.h.i.+t."

"She's right," Sterling said casually. "I am."

Tyler's team traded glances, and then Tyler watched me for a long time. "Enjoy your eggs."

"Will do," I said, making sure not to watch him leave.

Sterling waited a second or two before leaning in. "You must like him. I've never seen you so brutal."

I waved him away. "He might be an overconfident p.r.i.c.k, but he's not a bad guy. He shouldn't get mixed up with us."

"True," Sterling said, shoveling another bite into his mouth. He patted his mouth with his napkin, and then looked at me from under his manicured brows. "Since when are you accountable?"

"Oh, honey ... I hope your day is as pleasant as you are."

He chuckled quietly, and then took another bite.

CHAPTER THREE.

Finley ruffled her mink coat and tossed her Chopard Grey gla.s.ses on the marble entry table. Finley wasn't careless; she just wanted everyone to know that the six hundred dollars she'd spent to s.h.i.+eld her eyes from the sun didn't concern her-never mind they would likely be knocked off a leased yacht into the South China Sea the next week.

She turned her diamond nose ring one-quarter turn counter-clockwise, and then popped a mint into her mouth. "I'm going to have to charter from now on. Even first-cla.s.s has become filthy. And the airports ... ugh."

Marco, filling out his charcoal Henley like a Banana Republic model, set their luggage down in the foyer, greeting Maricela and Jose in Portuguese when they came to collect the bags.

"They speak Spanish, Marco," I deadpanned.

Marco took off his gla.s.ses, grinning at me like he knew a story or five he would tell me later, in front of Finley, when we were all drunk. "It's close enough."

I glared at Finley. "You brought him," I said in an accusatory voice.

"He's staying in a hotel," Finley said, barely noticing that Marco was removing her coat. He bent down to untie her fluffy snow boots.

I cringed. "Stop. Marco, stop. Right now."

Marco slipped off her second boot and set them perfectly side by side, standing up and waiting with want in his eyes-not the sort of desire a woman my age would want an exotic, gorgeous man like Marco to have. He was waiting to oblige me, please me, take care of any need I had, and not for me-for Finley. He didn't simply take pride in indulging his employer and anyone who surrounded her-it was his obsession. Appeasing Finley and her entourage at once was his specialty, and he loved to show off his talents.

"Could I just," he began, reaching for her bags.

"No, no you can't," I said, slapping his hands away. "Take your luggage and find your hotel. Finley will be able to breathe for herself this week."

Marco fidgeted, unsure how to grant my demand.

Finley smiled at him with feigned patience. "It's fine, Marco. Go on. Enjoy your vacation."

He nodded a few times, both confident and unsure, clearly unsettled at leaving Finley to her own devices for more than a few minutes.

Marco kissed her hand. "Should you need anything, Miss Edson, I'll be here within ten minutes."

She pulled away slowly, waving him away, indifferent to his charm.

Marco looked borderline devastated as he collected his baggage and closed the door behind him.

I sighed. "That s.h.i.+t is getting out of hand."

She smirked, walking the few steps to hug me tight. "You're just jealous."

I squeezed her once, and then pulled away. "Does he wipe your a.s.s? Only then would I be jealous."

Finley laughed, pulling off her gloves and walking down the hall to the piano room. She tossed them on the chaise and sat, relaxing back and crossing her socked feet. Her golden hair fell in soft waves just past her shoulders, s.h.i.+ny and perfect like it should be after the money she'd spent to keep it that way. "Not that he hasn't tried, my love. You're right, he would probably breathe for me if he could."

"Isn't that annoying?"

"Not really. I worry about nothing except what I have to worry about."

"When do you go back to work? Is Daddy's board still b.i.t.c.hing about your promotion?"

She sighed. "Soon, and yes. How's Winterland?"

I looked out the window. It wasn't snowing, but the wind was blowing icy globs from the tree branches. "I think I'll be ready for the sea."

She watched me as her red lips pulled to the side. "You don't look ready."

I picked the navy-blue polish off my thumbnail. "I feel numb. We've tanned on every beach. Skied every resort from Estes to the Alps."

"You're bored?" Finley asked, amused.

"Displaced."

Finley rolled her eyes, disgusted. "Don't do that, Ellison. Don't become a G.o.dd.a.m.ned cliche. The rich girl who is bored with life, surrounded by everyone and no one, feeling all alone."

"Don't patronize me. I recall you going through a phase."

"I shopped and spent a month with you in Barbados. I didn't f.u.c.k my way through it. You've always enjoyed your pharmaceuticals-you get that from Mother-but for Christ's sake, Ellie. Pick a hobby. Get a boyfriend-or girlfriend. Find a cause. Find G.o.d. I don't give a f.u.c.k, but don't whine about having too much money and too many options."

I wasn't sure what expression was on my face, but it might have mirrored Finley's. I covered my eyes, and then sat down on the sofa, leaning back. "f.u.c.k, you're right. I'm Sterling."