Page 72 of Carnal

Tristano slides his arm around my shoulders. "No problem."

Gulliver turns on reggae music, shifts the gears, and accelerates. The warm ocean breeze, crashing waves, and Tristano's hard body make the moment perfect. We pass the different parts of the resort, which are all lit up. Pools glow with pink and purple lights. There's an outdoor dance club, several bars, and restaurants. All are full of smiling guests.

It instantly puts me in a better mood. I lean into Tristano and glance at him, saying, "Looks like a nice place."

He nods. "We'll explore it all tomorrow."

My butterflies flutter harder. I confess, "Not a bad place for a date."

Pride sweeps his face. He wiggles his eyebrows, saying, "Just one of the perks about dating me."

I laugh. I never thought about dating any Marino, but Tristano is full of surprises. Curious, I ask, "So who booked this place?"

Tristano rubs his thumb over my bicep, answering, "Barry."

"Really?"

"Why do you sound so shocked?"

I shrug. "Barry screwed up the last trip Dante had me book with him."

"How?"

"Long story, but Dante said I'm not allowed to use him again. Didn't he tell you? Don't you all talk about everything?" I ask, surprised.

The look I saw earlier returns. Tristano glances into the darkness and lowers his voice. "No. I'm usually the last one to know anything. And there are lots of things they don't tell me."

Something about his admission feels vulnerable. I place my hand on his thigh then state, "Well, it seems like you have your secrets, too."

He locks eyes with me. The emotions swirling in his orbs make me think he's hurt. "Not really. Only you. And that's your choice."

My chest tightens. I open my mouth to speak, but the golf cart stops and Gulliver announces, "This is it."

Stars twinkle and the full moon shines, shedding a ray of soft light over a detached cottage. Candles flicker in the windows. Brick pavers lead to the entrance. A deck sits on the ocean side of the building, boasting a private pool and hot tub.

"Wow. This looks amazing." I beam.

"Glad you approve," Tristano says and grabs a suitcase off the cart.

"Mr. Marino. I have it," Gulliver declares, pulling the handle up on the other suitcase.

"It's okay. I can take this one," Tristano claims, then motions for me to go ahead of him.

"But you are a guest," Gulliver points out.

"It's all good."

"I could lose my job," Gulliver frets.

Tristano pulls out a wad of cash and waves it in front of Gulliver. "This is for you. And I won't tell if you don't, but it's stupid for me not to help."

In all my years working for the Marinos, I've never seen any of them lift a finger when any staff was around. It didn't matter if it was at their house or on trips.

I've never paid that much attention to Tristano.

Is this normal for him?

The respect I have for him grows. It's not that the other Marinos treat people badly, but they display their air of authority wherever they go. I always assumed Tristano was like his brothers.

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