"I
don't want a mansion. I just want you to be happy, Peter." My brains are
starting to work again and I remember something Sean said. "Why did Sean think
that I wanted something?"
"Sean
always thinks everyone wants something. Just be glad he isn't riding with us.
Come on. Let's get out of here. I'll grab you breakfast and we can head up to
my mom's place and see what Jon did. It's not far from here. We can get to your
parents' house by dinner." He pauses and shakes his head. "Maybe we should
ditch Sean and head to your house now."
Peter
is trying so hard to take care of me, and I adore him for it. For some reason
the stuff with Sean feels like it's all or nothing. Peter wants his brother's
help when I go home, and I want Dean to stay away from me. There has to be a
reason why Sean is taking a detour to their mom's house, but I have no idea
what it is. Either way, Peter needs Sean. "No, it's all right and we'd have to
stop and grab lunch anyway. If you want to see Jon, we can go. Honestly, I'm
not looking forward to what's waiting for me at home. Adding a few extra hours
to the trip might help me deal with it a little bit better."
Peter
presses his forehead to mine. "I'll help you through whatever lies ahead."
CHAPTER
21
The
estate is breathtaking with manicured grounds spreading in every direction. An
old stone mansion sits in the center of the property and sprawls as long as a
city block. The house is nestled between the trees, and we have to take a long
winding driveway to reach the front doors. I suppose it's so the house can't be
seen from the road. I would have driven past it if Peter didn't tell me where
to turn. I'm familiar with this part of Long Island, but I had no idea there
were houses like this out here. I thought that most of the mansions were modern
and on the south shore. Apparently there are rich people who prefer the other
side of the island with the rocks and hills. The turkey notices that we stopped
and cranes his neck to look out the window.
"What
are we going to do with him?" I jab my thumb at the vulture in the backseat as
I cut the engine.
Peter
seems nervous, but he covers his apprehension quickly and walks around to open
my door. We're in a circle drive in front of enormous wooden doors that form an
arch at the top. It looks like a castle.
Okay,
I'm just going to admit it. I had no idea this was Peter's life. He seems
normal, and the people who live here can't possibly be average. Everything
about the exterior of this house is larger than life. It makes me think of the
inhabitants as royalty, not savvy businesspeople.
I
glance at Peter. I have no idea how his family made money or where it came
from. There are some people who were born with generations of wealth beneath
them. That must be Peter's situation because I don't recall hearing anything
specific. He's old money and he's in my crappy little car with a bird of prey
in the backseat.
Nerves
course through my body so fast that I can barely hold myself still. It's the
Chihuahua effect. Those high-strung little dogs are always quivering. Peter
offers his hand and pulls me out of the car. He leaves the door open, and the
turkey hops out of the backseat and wanders off.
Peter
grins at the bird. "Enjoy yourself," he says to the animal. A man appears out
of nowhere and slips into my car. Peter left the keys in the ignition.
"Hey!
What are you—" My voice is too high and panicky. The guy slams the door shut
and starts to drive away. I try to lunge away from Peter, but he holds me back.
"Sidney,
he works here. He's taking your car to the garages. You're not in the 'hood.
Calm down." Peter has that knowing smirk on his face, like he realizes that I
had every intention of running after my car. I nod and rub my hands over my
arms.
"Sorry,
I had no idea. I had no idea about any of this. What is your mother going to
say about you and me? Should we even be here?"
Peter
leans in and kisses the tip of my nose. "She'll think you're amazing, because
you are. It's what you think of them that worries me." Before Peter can
elaborate, a male voice hollers at him.
"Peter!
Is that you? Holy shit!" The man is moving toward us from the side lawn. His
walk turns into a sprint and then a full run. As he gets closer, I do a double
take. Dark hair, bright blue eyes, and that same build as Peter and Sean.
Unlike Sean or Peter, this guy is all smiles—full wattage with nothing held
back. This man looks like he could easily run down the beach and never break a
sweat. Every bit of him is toned, and running like that doesn't faze him at
all. I expect him to stop when he's within a foot of us, but he doesn't. Peter
gets steam plowed and pulled into a man hug. There's a lot of back slapping and
a slew of questions.
"Where
have you been? Are you all right? What are you doing here?" The guy steps back
and looks Peter over. Joy is painted across his face, and he can't stop
beaming. Peter has that half smirk he wears when he's excited and nervous.
"Damn, it's good to see you, again!"
"You,
too, Jonathan. You've grown up. I mean, look at you."
Jonathan
grins, revealing a dimple that matches Peter's perfectly. His silky chestnut
hair is a bit longer than Peter's and curls the slightest amount at the ends,
giving him that sexy bedhead supermodels would kill for. The thing that's the
most striking about him isn't the awesome hair, the chiseled features, or his
radiant blue gaze—it's that smile. It's almost mocking and makes me want to
talk to him more to find out what's caused that sexy smirk to appear on his
beautiful face.
After
a moment, Jonathan looks over at me. He brushes his hair out of his eyes and
really sees me for the first time. He glances between Peter and me, quickly
putting things together. "Where are my manners? Jonathan Ferro. I'm this guy's
younger brother." He extends his hand, so I do the same, anticipating a firm
shake, but Jonathan takes my palm and lifts it to his lips, and kisses the back
of my hand. As I suck in a breath, my body goes rigid.
As
I stand there in shock, thinking that rich people are weird, Peter laughs and
slaps his brother away. "Cut it out, Jon! You're going to freak her out."
Jon
grins at me, looking up from under dark lashes, and blushes slightly. "I'm just
messing with you. So, Pete, who is this beautiful woman?" He tucks his hands
under his arms after folding them against his chest. I glance between the two.
They look so much alike, but the eyes are different. Although they are the same
color, Jon's don't have that haunted look that Peter and Sean carry around.
Peter
pulls me in front of him and wraps his arms around me, making it extremely
clear that we are not friends, we're more than that. "This is Sidney Colleli.
We're on our way to see her family in Jersey."
Jon
blinks and the smile falls off his face. "Are you guys getting married or
something? Because Mom won't give her blessing after—"
Peter
cuts off his younger brother. "No, we're not engaged or anything like that."
Peter sounds wistful, rather than horrified, which bodes well. He earned some
points for not freaking out. "Actually, Sidney's mom is dying. We're meeting
Sean here for lunch."
"Oh,
I'm sorry, Sidney. That's rough." Jonathan takes a long, slow breath and looks
at Peter. "Do you want your title back?"
Peter
laughs like that's the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Hell no. You keep it."
"Did
Mom know you were coming?"
Peter
shakes his head. "No, I wasn't sure if I'd need to head this way, so I didn't
say anything."
Jon
gives his brother a delighted smile. "Well, you couldn't have picked a better
day to stop for lunch. Dad has trophy number forty-seven here, and if Sean is
coming—fireworks, bro. It'll be awesome! Come on."
I
glance at Peter, wondering what Jon means, but the guy already took off. "Does
he run everywhere?"
Peter
nods. "Pretty much. That was my younger brother, the idiot—that's what my dad
calls him."
"Nice."
Actually, it's anything but nice.
"Yeah.
Jon kind of earned a reputation for being, ah, how shall we say this,
impulsive. If he sees something he wants, he gets it. There's no forethought at
all or at least not any that we've seen. He still acts like a kid, living life
fast and hard. He wants every beautiful woman that crosses his path. If I
wasn't standing here, he would have hit on you with a dazzling array of
flattery. He's good like that, which is why he keeps getting himself in
trouble. I hoped Jon would settle down a little when I left and take on some
responsibilities, but apparently not. Sean wants to slap some sense into him.
Jon must have done something crazier than usual this time."
I'm
still caught on the fact that the Ferro brothers' features are so strikingly
similar. It's like the three of them stepped out of the same mold. "How old is
Jon? You guys look like triplets. It's kind of freaky."
Peter
gives me a shy grin. "Yeah, we get that a lot. Sean is a little older, about a
year, and Jon is about four years younger. He just started college when I left,
so that makes him a junior next fall, assuming he went to class."
I
smirk and look over at him as we walk toward that massive front door. Peter laces
his fingers together with mine. I keep talking although nerves are filling my
stomach. "I bet you always went to class, didn't you?"
"I'm
the Goody Two-shoes of the family. Sean's the black sheep—or he sacrificed the
black sheep when he sold his soul—and Jon's Jon. That pretty much sums it up."
"You're
the straight-and-narrow brother? My God, who would have thought it?"
Peter
laughs and squeezes my hand tight. "It's all in comparison, babe. Compared to
Sean, I'm sane and civil. Compared to Jon I'm responsible and levelheaded.
Compared to you, well, nothing compares to you so let's just say I'm lucky and
leave it at that." He leans in and gives me a peck on the cheek.
CHAPTER
22
I'm
sitting at a long table with light-colored linens. There's an enormous bouquet
at the center with every shade of pink you can imagine. A long crystal stem
holds the arrangement off the table so it doesn't block our line of sight.
Brightly colored roses are the focal points with little crystals dripping over
the sides—or maybe those are diamonds. The flatware is a matching shade of pale
gold. I poke the knife with my finger, wondering how heavy it is.
Peter
is seated across from me, and I'm right next to my favorite person again—Sean
Ferro. As he lifts his napkin, Sean speaks softly so no one except me can hear
his words. "Assessing whether or not it will fit in your purse?"
"Bite
me."
"I'll
have the guards strip-search you on the way out if any of the flatware goes
missing."
What
a dick. It's like he's trying to start a fight with me on purpose. I redirect
my barb with a comment that should shut him up. "I see you messed things up
with Avery. Smooth move, Ferro." I'm not calling him by his first name to his
face. It feels too intimate, as if I actually like him or something.
I
smile at Peter, who is glaring at Sean. Sean looks perfectly civil, but
everyone knows it's a facade.
Sean's
voice is flat. "She had to work."
I
blink at him, shocked. Work means more clients, which means she's with another
guy right now. Avery didn't want another guy; she wanted Sean. I shouldn't say
it, but I can't help it. "What did you do?" I barely know Avery, but I feel so
bad for her. Sean doesn't bother answering me, not that I thought he would.
"She deserves better."
"Agreed."
Sean's single word packs a punch, and I have no sharp retort. He doesn't look
at me for the rest of the meal. The man is an enigma with a dash of psycho.
The
Ferros have a tradition of requiring all the children to be seated first, prior
to their parents. Peter told me that it's supposed to promote family unity or
something like that. I'm surprised that Sean is here with us. He's been such a
bastard that I can't imagine him bending to anyone's wishes. Jonathan leans
forward with both his elbows on the table and looks completely bored. Maybe
that kid is like a high-strung collie and prefers running over sitting. I
wonder what his story is, what the guy did to piss off his entire family
because Jon seems utterly calm considering his mother is going to throttle him
at any moment. Then again, the despondent, emotionally disconnected thing seems
to be a Ferro trait. All three of them have it to some extent, even Peter. As
for Jon and Sean, that's where the similarities stop—well, except for the
heartbreak stamp plastered across their foreheads. I wonder if Sean was given a
warm greeting like Peter. If so, I didn't see it.
A
few moments after we are seated, the patriarch enters the room. Mr. Ferro is
well past his prime with silvery hair and a broad smile on his face. Fit isn't
the right word to describe him, but he's not overweight either. To make matters
more interesting, there's a woman on his arm who is close to my age. She's
wearing a clingy silver dress that dips insanely low, showing off very ample
cleavage. She smiles at the boys and waves the tips of her fingers at everyone
except me.
Jonathan
mirrors her little wave and winks, but the other guys ignore her as if she'll
be gone in a week. I watch Jon straighten as his father walks into the room. At
first I think it's out of respect, but the way Jon's eyes light up when he sees
the mistress makes me wonder if the youngest Ferro is crazy enough to steal his
father's girlfriend. Damn, and I thought my family is messed up. Where is Mrs.
Ferro, and why does she put up with this crap? I'd like to ask that question,
but I don't. Instead I sit still with a polite smile on my face and wonder why
Peter came back here.