Page 9 of The Retreat

I huff and roll my eyes. What a dick.

Isaac shifts next to me, clearly uncomfortable with me hearing Oliver’s words. But let’s be real, he would say them to my face as well. Oliver doesn’t say anything to anyone he isn’t willing to say into a microphone.

“What does that mean?” Owen’s getting agitated now, and it’s interesting to hear. I rarely see emotion from Owen. I can’t wait to see what else gets under his skin and makes him tick.

“You picked badly, but I have faith you’ll get better at it with time.”

I stride into the villa, throwing open the door and not trying to hide my presence at all.

“Nice to know you’re already planning to replace me, Oliver.” I smile at him before scanning the area for Owen. I find him rumpled, with dark circles under his eyes, leaning against the back of a couch. Even in distress, the man is sexy as sin. It should be a crime to be that damn attractive, and straight, while married to me.

“You’re barely first marriage material. Owen can do better.” He slides his gaze to his brother, who is staring at me. What does he see when he looks at me? Is it the same as Oliver? Disgust, annoyance, and contempt? The idea sends a pang into my heart. “Right now, I don’t care what you do, just get out of my villa. You’ve intruded on my honeymoon enough.”

A knowing smile lifts my lips. Even as exhausted as I am, I get a thrill out of fucking with Oliver’s possessiveness.

“By all means, continue on with your plans. I don’t mind a show.”

Isaac sighs behind me, and I don’t have to look at him to know he’s hanging his head.

“If you think I won’t feed you to the fish and not lose a wink of sleep over it, you’re wrong. Get. Out.” He turns back to Owen. “Figure this out between you or lie low for a month until I get back. I’m not letting your poor decisions ruin my sex life.”

For just a split second, an emotion covers Owen’s face. Something like fear or betrayal, but it’s gone so quickly I almost don’t believe I saw it.

“There’s already a flight plan approved to return home. You have two hours.”

Oh goodie. Another trip on a plane. I swear my ass is numb from the one I just got off of.

“Are you serious? We can’t crash here for a nap?” I look at Isaac who has rolled his lips inside his mouth to keep from speaking.

“The plane is big enough for you to sleep on.” Oliver grabs Owen’s arm and whispers to him while moving him toward the door.

For fuck’s sake.

Frustrated, I follow while imagining tripping Oliver so he slams his perfect face into the doorframe.

All I hear from Owen is, “I forgot them,” and Oliver’s jaw tenses. The two of them have some kind of silent, twin conversation, and Oliver crosses his arms. Owen’s shoulders droop for a minute, but it doesn’t take him long to square them again and stride from the villa. It’s kind of impressive to watch, if I’m being honest with myself.

“Well, thanks, I guess.” I reach out to pat Oliver, but he grabs my wrist, just like I knew he would. I blow a kiss at him with a wink and take off out the door before he can come up with something painful in retribution.

The car is still sitting out front, and the driver is next to the door. Owen is already inside.

I nod at him and get in. I want to sleep for a week.

Glancing at my husband, he’s pointedly not looking at me. Whatever. We just need to get back on the plane, then I can fucking sleep…can I sleep on it while we’re waiting for our flight time?

Even with my eyes closed and my head leaning back against the seat, I can feel the tension radiating off Owen. It’s like the air in the car is vibrating and crawling over my skin.

With a heavy sigh, I open my eyes and turn to find him with a clenched jaw staring straight ahead and his fingers gripping so hard onto the door handle that his knuckles are white.

“Owen.” His name is quiet, but he jerks around so quickly you would think I screamed it.

The look on his face is a mask, and it’s crumbling. I don’t know if it’s from lack of sleep, stress, or a hangover, but it’s not as solid as I’m used to.

Oliver and Owen are identical twins, from what I can tell. However, Owen tends to be more subdued while Oliver makes demands. In public, it’s harder to tell the two apart unless you know what to look for. Oliver is the protector of the duo, but I’ve never been able to figure out what he’s protecting Owen from or for. It’s interesting seeing him like this. Without his guard dog to use as a distraction.

It’s so clear to me that Owen is trying to wear his Oliver mask. Act like Oliver, have the same ‘I don’t give a fuck what you think’ vibe. Be intimidating like Oliver. But he’s not. He’s not Oliver, and we all know it.

FIVE

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