Page 2 of Her Filthy Mistake

“I don’t know. The person just came forward, so it could be as short as a week, or it might drag out like it’s been doing. I’d give anything to be in the middle of it when everything goes down.”

I pat his arm and shake my head. “I’m proud of you. Even though I’m secretly relieved you’re here and not back home.”

“Zoe, I’m careful.”

“I know.”

As he returns to reading and responding to his messages, I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of the seat. In no time, we’ll be at the resort, surrounded by blue-green water, crystal blue skies, white beaches, palm trees, and warm, moist breezes.

While back home, we’re leaving behind bad guys with guns, mosquitoes, and brown grass.

Slowly, I drift off to sleep, and there he is. Jace. My stepfather’s younger half-brother. The most gorgeous, angst-ridden man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Christmas in Jamaica–Two Years Ago

I smiled at him. “Thank you for entertaining me this weekend. I’m sorry you got stuck with me.” Before I lost my nerve, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. The rough stubble brushed my lips. He inhaled as his body tightened like a bow string ready to strike.

“It’s not a problem.” Jace shrugged and returned to hiking back to the resort. We’d spent half an hour down by the water watching the dolphins.

The day had been perfect. The sun beamed down on his golden skin, and I’d caught him checking me out in my hot pink string bikini more than once.

“It was sweet of you.” I placed my hand on his forearm, drawing him to a stop. I bit my lower lip and gave him a wide-eyed stare. The kind that says I’m innocent, but I want you to sully me. His skin sizzled under my fingertips.

“Um, you’re welcome.” He dodged my gaze and stared out into the distance toward the resort’s dining area.

We weren’t visible to the other guests from where we were standing, tucked behind a row of plants. But the sounds of the utensils clattering against plates filtered down to our location. The rest of our family were inside the resort, finishing brunch before we headed to the airport and returned to reality.

I wanted to stay right there with him.

“It was what was expected of me. We were the only singles.” His Adam’s apple bobbed as he shrugged. “Besides, we’re family.”

Family? Yes, we’re family, but not in the weird sense. I was 15 by the time I met him. The real issue was his ex. When was he ever going to get over her and notice me? I wanted to stomp my foot and pout.

“Maybe it would help if you didn’t keep singing about her.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“What?” His brow was furrowed as he swung his head back around to face me.

“That woe is me look that’s always on your face. You could probably get rid of it faster if you stopped thinking and singing about her all the time.” I hated jealousy. It was an ugly, useless emotion, but it raged through me, nonetheless. And it made me look like a complete fool begging for him to pay attention to me. I was even embarrassed by how I was acting.

“Forget I said anything.” I dropped my arm to my side.

Everyone knew his girlfriend cheated on him with the bass player for their band and broke up their group. That was nearly two years prior, and he was still wallowing around like a heartbroken dog. Yes, he’d moved on to another band, but he still wrote and sang songs about her.

“You don’t know anything about it.” His eyes flashed with anger. “This has nothing to do with Samantha.”

“It doesn’t?” I crossed my arms over my chest. Not believing a word he said.

“No, it doesn’t.” He raked a hand through his hair as a saltwater breeze made a strand of my hair dance in front of my face. “You don’t know the first thing about being an adult and wishing for things you can’t have.” He shook his head and stepped back, putting distance between us. “You’re still a child who’s been sheltered by her mom….”

I swallowed hard to keep tears from forming. The urge to shout ‘I was a 20-year-old woman going to college and not a child’ was strong, but I kept from speaking the words into existence. He wouldn’t have cared. He had his mind made up. I was a child.

“My brother and her father.” The last words were bit out and laced with disdain.

My back tensed. I knew he and my stepdad sometimes had a strained relationship, but I wasn’t aware it was this volatile. Or was his anger directed toward my father? As far as I knew, they’d barely said more than hi and bye to each other over the years.

“You have a roof over your head. Your college is paid for. You have boys wrapped around your little finger while slinking around in a tiny two-piece bikini. You probably think it’s funny that you drive them crazy.” His hands balled into fists as a seagull swooped down and glided above our heads.

“You’re mean.” Tears stung my eyes. “It’s not my fault that I’m young or that I have people who care for me.”

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