Page 218 of Soul So Dark
Alex
“Look at him, he's freaking the fuck out,” Aiden chuckles from behind his sunglasses.
I glance over at Colson, lounging on the tufted white chaise next to mine, the breeze whipping his auburn hair over his eyes as it carries the spray off the ocean.
“I'm not freaking the fuck out,” Colson mutters.
“Youarefreaking the fuck out,” Aiden repeats.
To be fair, either statement could be true. Sometimes, Colson lashes out with unparalleled brutality. Other times, he’s quite literally a silent storm—just like his sister. It depends on the day. And today, he’s silent, as though he’s taking in his surroundings and letting his mind wander over the beaches of Tulum like the waves lapping at the pink sand.
“I don’t know, man,” Mason peers at Colson from his chair, “you kind of look like you’re freaking out.”
“I’m lying on a beach right now with you fools, why would I be freaking out?”
Aiden stretches out his arm, motioning to me. “Because this grown-ass man turned lethal weapon has your baby sister's face tattooed on his chest. And now she's exchanged marital vows with him. He owns her ass, in more ways than you care to admit.”
Colson swivels his head. “Are you trying to lose a limb today? Do you have too many?”
“He can get away with it because they wouldn’t let Col bring his bear rifle on the plane,” Mason laughs.
Colson turns to me. “I don’t suppose you brought yours? I’ll clean it for you afterward.”
I laugh to myself and turn back to the coastline.
If you only knew how dirty my gun is…
My eyes wander across the beach, catching sight of four women strolling along the water’s edge. They meander across the wet sand, stopping periodically to search for shells as they make their way toward us. I zero in on the one in the middle, dressed in a black lace bikini with her shiny black hair piled on top of her head. When they reach the veranda, Shelby, Maddie, and Carter break off with a wave and Dallas continues up the steps.
“Speak of the devil…” Aiden drawls as she crosses the stone tiles.
She scrunches up her nose and jeers at him as she passes, only to bend over and make a show of sticking her ass out at him as she crawls up my chair and into my lap. Ignoring everyone else, Dallas straddles my hips and wraps her arms around my neck as her lips melt into mine. The corners of my mouth curl as Colson lets out an irritated groan behind her.
As much as he bitched and moaned about me marrying his sister less than 24 hours ago, I see the relief in his eyes when he looks at her now.
And he should be, because now she’ll finally be safe.
“Bizarre, isn’t it?” Mason gulps down the rest of his drink. “Who thought Ole Dally would turn out to be such a smoke show?”
“What is my life if not a series of strange and bizarre events?” Colson muses.
“Could you be any more emo right now?” Dallas scoffs as she turns around and settles onto the chair between my legs.
I smooth the wide lace trim over her ribs, her top specially selected to cover the scar I gave her all those years ago. The last thing I needed was to brawl with Colson again at my own wedding.
“I could,” Colson nods. “I was thinking of serenading you with someMy Chemical RomanceorSimple Planduring my toast tonight.Maybe a rendition ofOhio is for Lovers,since I know how much you loveHawthorne Heights.What do you think?”
Dallas gives an impish smile. “It would probably be the coolest thing you’ve ever done.”
Fortunately, or unfortunately, Colson opts for a more subdued tribute at the last dinner before Dallas and I are finally left alone on this secluded beach for a week. Meantime, she and I sit at the head of a table on the patio of the beachside restaurant filled with our family and friends, drinking champagne and eating gluttonous amounts of fresh seafood to the sound of the waves drifting off the dark beach. I haven’t thought about what lies beyond next week, because everything here is perfect and nothing can touch us—absolutely nothing.
“Given any more thought to my offer?” I ask Colson, tipping the bottle of champagne to the empty flute in front of him.
He gazes long and hard at the glass. “Yeah,” he finally replies, sliding it to the middle of the table. “I’m thinking about it.”
I leave it at that, because that’s what you have to do with Lutzes—convince them that what you want them to do was their idea to begin with. I pick up the champagne flute forfeited by Colson and set it down adjacent to me in front of Dallas, who’s been talking to Luca for the past 10 minutes. And based on her intense focus, it must be pretty riveting. But a moment later, I feel her squeeze my arm to get my attention.
“Alex?”
