Everything You Need (7 page)

When Hazel pressed closer he lost his train of
thought. Brice buried his tongue in her warm mouth like he really
wanted to. What he really wanted was for her warmth to surround him
until they both came. He tried not to think about how he still
hadn’t coaxed her into smiling, really smile for him. He’d grown up
with enough women to know they needed to talk like they needed to
breathe.

He pulled back and asked, “Is that magazine article
why you’re on vacation?”

“You really know how to kill the mood.” She brought
his face back down and kissed him. He unzipped her jacket and
pulled back.

“I’ve seen your work. You’re not washed up.” This
time he leaned back down to her lips. His groin tightened when her
hands snaked under the tank top and onto bare skin.

She murmured, “Is your father the reason why you
don’t want to work for the family business?”

He brought his hands up to cup her breasts. “You’re
obsessed with my family. I’d think you didn’t have any of your
own.”

She stiffened, but didn’t step back. He opened his
eyes. Her fingers ran down his bare chest and an emotionless
expression had taken over her face again “We shouldn’t talk
personal matters while trying to have sex with each other.”

Hazel’s lips had yet to stretch into a smile, and
maybe she wasn’t like most women. Maybe she didn’t want to talk
about it like he didn’t want to talk about his family or his
troubles. Maybe, like him, she didn’t know when to ask for
help.

Brice didn’t know her, but from what he’d gleaned of
her life, she needed more than what he could offer. She needed
someone who would be there for her always. She needed family and
home. The same reasons he had left most of the women in his past.
He just wasn’t built to give a woman that. Brice knew, because he’d
tried and failed.

He brushed his thumbs over the beaded nipples
straining against the work out shirt. “What’s a safe subject?”

“We can talk about the weather. It’s nice today.”

He glanced at the sand then back down at Hazel. The
fist squeezing his heart tightened. What made that expression cross
her face? He wanted to be the one to take it away and make her
smile. Dangerous ground and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop
himself from walking on it.

“It’s always nice here.” She spoke again. “I’m
starting to think of moving onto this island. For good.”

“You’re treading close to why you’re on vacation,”
Brice pointed out.

She punched his arm lightly. “No, I’m not, and stop
bringing it up.”

“Hey, I work on the open-door doctrine. If you open
the door I can waltz in and talk about it.”

“But you don’t want to talk about your family?”

Brice glanced down at her. “I don’t open the
door.”

It spoke volumes that he would if it meant getting
her to smile at him again.

“Back to the impasse.”

“Right.” He glanced back down at the beach. The ocean
sparkling in the sunlight. He smiled. “Right.”

The muscles in his arm coiled as he lifted Hazel and
put her over his shoulder, taking off at a run.

“What the hell?” She screamed and then laughed. If
she’d been facing him, Brice knew her smile would be wide from
laughter. He kept going even when his bare feet splashed into the
water, until finally he slid her down his body so they were facing
each other. He’d been right. She was smiling.

“Better hold your breath,” he warned.

He plunged into the water with her hands gripping his
shirt. She fought and squirmed, while he pulled her closer and kept
his hold when they resurfaced.

She wiped the water from her face. “You’re insane.
Absolutely nutty. My hair is going to frizz up—”

He pushed her head under the water. When Hazel
resurfaced she tried to glare, but a smile pulled at her lips.

“You’re going to pay now, Creed.” Just as a wave
crashed against them she wrapped her legs behind his knees, caught
him off guard. They both went under the water, legs and bodies
tangling together. He set his feet into the sand and dragged her
back up to the surface.

“Maybe I should have asked if you could swim.” Brice
shook water from his hair.

Her hair band had disappeared in the water and curls
were plastered to her face. “I can swim. You’re hairy legs kept
tickling me.”

Brice laughed and shook his head. “Now you asked for
this one.”

She lunged away from him. “No, dear God! I think I’m
already going to taste seaweed for a week.”

He grabbed her jacket with one hand and pulled her to
him. “Truce?” he said, holding up his other hand as if to make a
promise.

She glared at him and then his hand. “Yeah.
Sure.”

The glint came then and her legs were back around his
knees. Feet buried in the sand Brice stood his ground. The warm
water did nothing to the erection and he saw when Hazel realized
the same.

“Is that a tool in your pocket?”

“Depends.” He bent his head down, until his lips were
brushing hers. “Do you need something…adjusted?”

“Yes,” she said, breathless. “Because I don’t think
you can have too much… adjusting.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. He groaned when
her core brushed along his sex, but then her expression changed.
Not to the one he’d been hoping to never see again, but to one of
terror.

“Oh, crap.”

She dropped from him butt first into the water. He
turned to see Tony on the porch with his father. Brice cursed
vehemently and then thought,
I’m going kill my brother. No state
will convict me.
Brice sighed, then reached down and lifted
Hazel out.

“Come on. I need to see what they want.”

She slid her hand out of his grip. “I’m just going to
head home and change out of these wet clothes.” She glanced down at
her feet. “I lost my shoes at some point. I’m going to need a new
pair.”

Brice knew a maneuver when he heard one. “You don’t
want to meet my father? That’s fine.”

“No, that’s not it.”

Brice raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, that’s it. I mean, I was just wrapped all over
you and…” She let out a frustrated sigh.

He smiled at her, knowing what to say. “If I go over
there without you I’ll never hear the end of it. You don’t know the
type of memory my family has.” He clasped her fingers and started
to pull her to his house. “I still hear about the time I was seven
and broke my brother’s arm when we were playing on the roof.”

“You were playing on the roof?”

Brice shrugged, though he noticed nerves had replaced
the sadness in her gaze. “Thought we were Supermen. I helped tie
Tony to a rope and then I pushed him off the roof. He asked me to,
but I got blamed for coming up with the idea since I still wore the
cape.”

She laughed. “You wore a cape?”

“You keep asking me these questions like you can’t
believe—”

“I believe you. I just can’t believe you’ve lived to
tell the tale.”

Brice started up the walkway. His father’s arms were
crossed. Brice glared at Tony, the snitch. “My mother has a
fondness for me.”

He kept Hazel’s hand clasped in his as they faced
Tony and his father. “Pops, this is Hazel Garvey. She’s spending
her vacation here on Palmer’s Island.”

His father kept silent a moment, but gazed at their
clasped hands. A frown started to form on Pops’ face. To Brice’s
surprise the older man started to smile at Hazel.

“Welcome. Tony mentioned you wanted to call me The
Don.”

“I don’t even remember telling that bad joke. I swear
I don’t think you’re a part of the mob.”

“No, I would have better suits if I did. I own my own
construction company. Most of my children work for me.”

All but me, Brice silently added. He squeezed Hazel’s
hand. He wanted to let her go, but couldn’t find the will to. Her
hand, strong and capable in his, only made him want to squeeze it
again. He didn’t like this need bubbling inside of him to hold her
closer. He tried to subtly untangle their fingers, but she squeezed
his hand and he stopped.

“Sometimes you have to make your own way before
finding where you truly belong.” Hazel shrugged. “Sounds like
you’ve built a good foundation for all your children.” She squeezed
his hand again. “Now, I’d like to stay, but as you can see I’ve
taken an unexpected dip in the ocean and need to change.”

His father nodded. “Brice will bring you to our
dinner tomorrow. It’s Maria’s birthday.”

Brice frowned. Damn, he’d forgotten. “I’m sure Hazel
has prior engagements.”

Tony finally spoke up. “She’s on vacation, remember?
I think she can make the time.”

Her grip on his hand tightened. “Sure. I think I can
rearrange my plans.”

Maria’s party meant the house would be chock full of
relatives. Hell, he didn’t want to go. Hazel’s fingers slid across
his palm when she let his hand go.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she directed at him. Her
eyes seemed to ask if he would be okay. Without thinking he nodded
his head at both her questions, spoken and silent. “See you guys
then.”

The men stayed quiet until Hazel was out of earshot.
His father was the first to speak. “I hope you don’t plan to use
her like you did Carmen.”

“I didn’t use her.” Carmen had been his biggest fuck-
up to date, when it came to relationships.

Pops made a sound of disbelief. “You need to replace
the rest of the shingles if you plan on selling this house.”

And that meant the subject was closed. Brice didn’t
understand why his father would bring up Carmen just to let the
memory die again. But his father had hit the mark he’d been
intending to strike with speaking the name of Brice’s former
fiancée. He rolled his shoulders. “Yes, the rest of them do need
replacing. Did you bring your tools?”

His father pffted again as an answer. With a little
more force than necessary Brice brushed past Tony, who hadn’t
spoken during the whole interlude and who sure as hell wasn’t off
the hook. Once his father left Brice would deal with his brother.
He couldn’t wait.

Chapter 7

Getting dressed this time was a little harder. The
funeral dress, the red slutty one and the green one she’d worn the
other night. Hazel listened for a knock at the door, but none came.
She picked up the black dress, and slid it over her head. It would
have to do, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to wear the red
one to meet his family. How’d she got roped into going to Maria’s
birthday party, anyway? Oh, right, The Don had made an offer she
couldn’t refuse.

Hazel smoothed the material, though butterflies in
her stomach continued to bounce around. Before she could sit down,
someone knocked at the door, and she found Brice holding up a
bouquet of roses.

“Where did you find these on the island?” she
asked.

“My brother kindly brought them from the mainland for
me.”

Back to him, she heard the strain in his voice, the
tension making it taut like guitar strings. She started to open
cabinets, not ready to face him. What they’d shared earlier wasn’t
light, and she didn’t mean the kiss in the ocean. It was almost as
though he’d known she needed to laugh. Like he’d known she needed
the demons in her past to rest again.

She opened the cupboard under the sink and found a
vase. Hazel couldn’t be sure, but she didn’t think it had been
there the last time she looked. Her mouth held a frown when she
faced him.

“So, what’s the game plan? I’m sure we don’t want
them to think this is love and marriage, but at the same time I
don’t want to be rude. How do you handle these situations?”

She was surprised he could date at all, from the way
his family jumped on a possible wife. She would have run if her
knees hadn’t been weak.

Brice shifted his feet. “I don’t.” He sucked in a
breath. “The last time I brought someone home was a very, very long
time ago. I’m sorry you got caught up in my family stuff. It’s the
main reason why I avoid them when I can. They don’t understand the
word ‘No.’ Nor do they know what the hell boundaries are.”

It was going to be much like the night before. From
what she had gleaned he didn’t have a stable job, but he had enough
saved up to renovate the beach house. She didn’t see how he was the
loser they were trying to make him out to be. She also didn’t
understand why he didn’t appreciate the family he had. She sucked
in a breath at the road her brain was taking. “Well, I’m ready if
you are.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know my family may be a
little overbearing, but seriously, you don’t have to dress as if
you are going to a funeral.”

“I have nothing else presentable to wear.”

“You’re not meeting the queen of Italy. You can wear
jeans. Or Band-Aids. Anything but the funeral dress.”

“It’s that bad?” Hazel pulled at the slinky
material.

“Usually I would have lied and said you looked fine,
but I want you comfortable. Every Italian dish imaginable will be
on that table for you to eat. Wear what you would normally wear to
a buffet.”

“It cannot be that bad.” Brice crossed his arms in
reply. “Okay, I’ll change into some jeans and a shirt, but if
anyone mentions how I’m dressed…” She let the bluff hang in the air
and went back to her room to change. She would at least put on high
heels to dress up the plain red blouse.

He held her elbow as they walked across the sand to
his car. Tony sat in the back seat of the four-door truck. He
nodded at her but didn’t speak. The nosy side of Hazel wanted to
know what had transpired between the brothers to put this new layer
of tension between them. And, yes, a part of her craved a family,
but she didn’t get it—if they hated each other, why did Tony come
out every day to help Brice renovate the house?

Years of being an interior designer had taught her to
be prudent even when it killed her. She kept her mouth shut
throughout the hour-long drive. The men didn’t try to attempt
conversation, either. By the time they made it to the postage-
stamp-lawn type of neighborhood, Hazel needed whatever Italian wine
his parents might be serving at the dinner table.