Page 2 of Cause of Action

“You’re such a douchebag.” Parker chuckled.

“The Hamilton brothers.” Glen grinned, walking over. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot.” He shook our hands.

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” I smiled. “Congrats, Glen.”

“Thanks, Roman. I couldn’t be happier. Enjoy the reception.” He patted my shoulder as he walked away.

“We’re out of here after dinner,” Julian said.

“I couldn’t agree more.” I threw back my drink.

The following morning, I opened my eyes and placed my arm over my aching head.

“Shit,” I mumbled as I stumbled out of bed.

After my brothers and I ate breakfast, we changed into our swim trunks and headed to the beach, taking three lounge chairs before the shoreline.

“There’s something about the Caribbean that is so much better than the Pacific,” Parker said as we stared at the ocean.

“It’s fucking hot out here,” Julian said.

“It’s time to drink.” I grinned.

“Hey, check her out.” Parker nudged my arm.

I stared at the beautiful brunette, her hair swept in a ponytail, oversized sunglasses, and a bikini that made my imagination and cock go wild. She stopped before us, held up her phone, and pointed it at the ocean. I couldn’t help but stare at her perfectly sculpted ass.

“Excuse me,” I shouted.

She turned around and looked at me. “What?”

“You’re blocking our view of the ocean,” Julian said. “But we’re not mad about it.” He grinned, and I smacked his arm.

“I bet you’re not,” she said, moving over a few feet.

“Is she videoing that couple in the ocean?” My brows furrowed.

“Maybe they’re her friends,” Parker said.

She placed her phone in her oversized bag.

“Damn,” I said, watching her walk away.

Morgan

I took my seat in first class and looked around at the other first-classers. This was life. Harlow, the woman who hired me to spy on her husband, booked me a window seat, and I was grateful. I was also grateful that nobody had sat in the empty seat beside me so far.

“Can I get you something to drink?” the flight attendant asked.

“Whiskey, please. On the rocks.”

She gracefully nodded and asked the people sitting behind me. My gratitude quickly evaporated when a man sat in the seat beside mine.

“Would you mind switching seats?” he asked.

“Yeah, I do mind. I have this thing with aisle seats. If I were to sit where you are, I’d be throwing up the entire flight,” I lied. “I don’t know why that happens. It’s so weird, right?”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever you say, lady.” He rolled his eyes.

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