Page 35 of Steamy Ever After

I fly at his face, teeth gritted, and nostrils flared. "I said ... Marisol’s. Not. Staying."

We exchange angry glares, then Declan's expression turns cocky. He shrugs. "You made the plans. You tell her."

"I will."

"I'm warning you; she's got a nasty temper."

"All the better that she has somewhere to spew it." I stomp out to the porch where my mother makes an attempt at small talk with Marisol. Lacey watches as I insert myself in between the two women.

"Excuse me, Mom. I’ve made reservations for Marisol at the Marriott downtown. "I turn to Marisol. "Declan will drive you. I booked two nights. It's a nice hotel, though I'm sure the accommodations won't be what you’re used to."

She eyeballs me with a narrow-eyed glance. I can almost see the moment when it dawns on her I'm not playing because the sinister smile returns.

"Thank you." She turns her eyes to Declan. "Thank you for your offer to stay, Dee-clan, but I must take your brother's offer instead. Of course, you're welcome to stay. We always have a good time, don't we."

It's a statement, not a question, and she runs her hand down Declan's arm in a seductive move.

A huffed laugh escapes. This bitch acts like she's in heat and my mother's eyes widen. She's not naive. Declan hasn't lived at home for a couple of years. His virginity isn't in question. It's Marisol's behavior that surprises Mom. She's bold. No, not bold; vulgar. Where most women would want to keep their private life private, she seems to thrive on the shock value her behavior incites.

"Maybe you should take Marisol out to dinner, brother. Get her something to eat." His eyes meet mine and a sneer finds its way to my lips. “I mean, seriously, Dec; the woman looks like she hasn't had a good meal in ages."

CHAPTER 4

Lacey

An awkward silence falls as Declan and Marisol depart. Once they're gone, Carter heads inside the house. I follow behind him until we're in the kitchen.

"Why did that woman being here make you so upset?" I ask as he fetches another beer from the refrigerator.

Carter closes the fridge door, his hip smacking against the counter as he twists the cap off as if he's strangling it. He looks away from me, chucks the top into the trash can, and takes a long swig from the bottle before meeting my eyes.

"Should I ask you again?" I pry.

"This week's for family. She's not family." His tone is flat, belying the emotion I know is raging inside of him.

"Stop. Declan could say the same thing about me, but he didn't put up a fuss about my being here."

He levels me with his stare. "You're more family than she is."

"Still, the fact remains, I'm not. I have no more right to be here than Marisol.”

Carter reaches for my hand and pulls me in, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Don't compare yourself to her."

"I'm not. It's obvious who's worldly and who's not." She's a model and I'm ... not."

He releases me and walks away. He yanks a chair from the table and plops into the seat. I do the same but in a gentler manner. "What's really bugging you?"

"She's an entitled bitch. Didn't you notice how she acted like she was better than us? She acted like she was doing us a favor by being here, and she insulted my mother. There's no fucking cause for that, Lacey. She's not welcome here. Besides, she never set foot in the house, and I could see the distaste in her eyes by the way she looked at it. It was obvious she'd be more comfortable elsewhere, so I set it right for her."

"I don't think that's true," I scoff.

"Bullshit, Lace. Let's face it; this house is run down with creaks and cracks but it's special. It's been good enough for us for years."

"I'm sure she would have loved it once she let her hair down. Besides, it's the people you're with, not the house, that make a great vacation."

"Which is another reason why Declan shouldn't have brought her here. She doesn't fit in."

"Did you give her a chance?"

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