Read Online Lush Curves 5: Undertow by Delilah Fawkes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Delilah Fawkes
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eyes.
I wondered if she missed her cousin as much as I did my kin.
“They’re a couple of rogues, but they’re the best a brother could ask for. Malcolm was going to be…” I stopped mid-sentence, my mouth going suddenly dry. I’d almost said Malcolm was going to be my best man .
“Was going to be what?”
“He was going to… going to be on tour this week, but he pushed the date back to attend my Gala.”
It wasn’t a lie, really. He had at that, changing his plans to sup port his younger brother. Despite his problems, Malcolm was better than me in that way. Selfless and giving toward his family, always willing to spontaneously offer his friendship or a kind act, where I was more cautious. I envied that in him. That he could just let go like that.
Aolani turned toward the waves and lowered the sunglasses perched on her hair to cover her eyes.
“Well, if they’re anything like you, I can’t wait to meet them.”
I tried to force a smile, but the black cloud was back, filling my chest with an ache almost as big as the ocean itself. Malcolm had been there when I’d bought the ring. He’d clapped me on the back and told me Fiona was too good for me.
And then later, he’ d sat by my side, his long arm tight around my shoulder as I wept, wild with rage and a despair I thought was larger than I could bear. So large I thought it would tear any man apart. But his grip on me had made me stronger.
But I was still here, still living, because of family like him, holding me together when I’d been coming apart.
I sighed and pushed my hair back away from my face, my brow furrowed as I searched for the shoreline.
***
Aolani
My jaw dropped as we walked through Old Town Edinburgh, the classic old buildings rising up like something out of a Medieval painting. We’d docked a few hours before, taking time only to freshen up before wandering off to explore the city.
The Gala was tomorrow night, and there was a sense of excitement in the air surrounding the photography crew. Finally, their work would be displayed, hopefully to the approval by those who had hired them.
Sandra and Thomas had wandered off, taking Stephen with them, and Gavin and I were alone. He’d seemed strangely distant since that afternoon on board, but he insisted on giving me a brief walking tour of his home. I walked beside him, my head turning this way and that, trying to memorize everything I saw.
He pointed out his favorite pub, the beautiful gardens on Princess Street, before gesturing toward the unmissable castle, rising up above the city like something out of a dream. The quaint cobblestones and ancient buildings gave the place a storybook feel—a romantic air that made me feel at once in awe and also like a trespasser, too modern for such a place as this.
Gavin grew quieter, saying just a word or two at each place, his eyes making me wonder where his thoughts were, because they certainly weren’t here with me.
When we walked in the hotel where the Gala was being held, I looked over at Gavin, hoping to see in his eyes what was troubling him. His jaw was set, his hazel gaze far away, as if he was looking past the finery in the lobby, not seeing the opulence that surrounded us.
Something was definitel y on his mind. He’d been quiet all day long. I felt a sense of foreboding, like the shoe was finally about to drop. Like the happiness I knew was short lives would come crashing down around me at any moment. I prayed I was wrong, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave me alone.
A man in a bellhop uniform came to take our bags, and Gavin absentmindedly tipped him.
“Gavin,” I began, but never got to finish my sentence.
There was a rough shout from across the lobby, that sounded like “OY!” and Gavin’s head moved toward the sound. A darker haired version of himself was jogging toward us, arms outstretched, hair flapping like a wild man behind him.
My jaw dropped. But as he rushed toward us, I realized he
I wondered if she missed her cousin as much as I did my kin.
“They’re a couple of rogues, but they’re the best a brother could ask for. Malcolm was going to be…” I stopped mid-sentence, my mouth going suddenly dry. I’d almost said Malcolm was going to be my best man .
“Was going to be what?”
“He was going to… going to be on tour this week, but he pushed the date back to attend my Gala.”
It wasn’t a lie, really. He had at that, changing his plans to sup port his younger brother. Despite his problems, Malcolm was better than me in that way. Selfless and giving toward his family, always willing to spontaneously offer his friendship or a kind act, where I was more cautious. I envied that in him. That he could just let go like that.
Aolani turned toward the waves and lowered the sunglasses perched on her hair to cover her eyes.
“Well, if they’re anything like you, I can’t wait to meet them.”
I tried to force a smile, but the black cloud was back, filling my chest with an ache almost as big as the ocean itself. Malcolm had been there when I’d bought the ring. He’d clapped me on the back and told me Fiona was too good for me.
And then later, he’ d sat by my side, his long arm tight around my shoulder as I wept, wild with rage and a despair I thought was larger than I could bear. So large I thought it would tear any man apart. But his grip on me had made me stronger.
But I was still here, still living, because of family like him, holding me together when I’d been coming apart.
I sighed and pushed my hair back away from my face, my brow furrowed as I searched for the shoreline.
***
Aolani
My jaw dropped as we walked through Old Town Edinburgh, the classic old buildings rising up like something out of a Medieval painting. We’d docked a few hours before, taking time only to freshen up before wandering off to explore the city.
The Gala was tomorrow night, and there was a sense of excitement in the air surrounding the photography crew. Finally, their work would be displayed, hopefully to the approval by those who had hired them.
Sandra and Thomas had wandered off, taking Stephen with them, and Gavin and I were alone. He’d seemed strangely distant since that afternoon on board, but he insisted on giving me a brief walking tour of his home. I walked beside him, my head turning this way and that, trying to memorize everything I saw.
He pointed out his favorite pub, the beautiful gardens on Princess Street, before gesturing toward the unmissable castle, rising up above the city like something out of a dream. The quaint cobblestones and ancient buildings gave the place a storybook feel—a romantic air that made me feel at once in awe and also like a trespasser, too modern for such a place as this.
Gavin grew quieter, saying just a word or two at each place, his eyes making me wonder where his thoughts were, because they certainly weren’t here with me.
When we walked in the hotel where the Gala was being held, I looked over at Gavin, hoping to see in his eyes what was troubling him. His jaw was set, his hazel gaze far away, as if he was looking past the finery in the lobby, not seeing the opulence that surrounded us.
Something was definitel y on his mind. He’d been quiet all day long. I felt a sense of foreboding, like the shoe was finally about to drop. Like the happiness I knew was short lives would come crashing down around me at any moment. I prayed I was wrong, but the nagging feeling wouldn’t leave me alone.
A man in a bellhop uniform came to take our bags, and Gavin absentmindedly tipped him.
“Gavin,” I began, but never got to finish my sentence.
There was a rough shout from across the lobby, that sounded like “OY!” and Gavin’s head moved toward the sound. A darker haired version of himself was jogging toward us, arms outstretched, hair flapping like a wild man behind him.
My jaw dropped. But as he rushed toward us, I realized he
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