Free CAYMAN SUMMER (Taken by Storm) by Angela Morrison Page A

a smile. “Sorry I can’t get up. Both ankles are sprained.” She tips her head towards her blue post-op boots cast off beside her.
    Brock squats down in front of her. “I’m Brock. These goons are Gabriel, and my Commonwealth brothers, Ethan and Cooper.”
    Gabriel acknowledges her with a nod and a flashy smile and trudges through the sand toward the condo building, but Ethan and Cooper sit down beside her. I take up a proprietary station behind her, slip a possessive arm around her waist.
    She glances from side to side at Ethan and Cooper. “Where are you guys from?”
    Cooper, who has bleached blonde hair and a perpetual burn, smiles and says, “Guess.”
    Leesie squints her eyes. “You don’t have an accent.”
    Ethan tips his head close to hers. “Aye, he does lass. Get him to say ‘eh.’”
    “Canadian?”
    Cooper’s face gets a little pinker. “Guilty. And Ethan’s a loud mouth Scot.”
    He leans forward so he can glare at Cooper. “She was supposed to guess.”
    Brock settles cross-legged in the wet sand in front of her. “That leaves me. I’ll give you a hint. I’m not here to get out of the gloom and cold like these other two blokes are.”
    “Braggart.” Ethan flicks sand at him.
    I lean forward and whisper in Leesie’s ear. “He called me ‘mate’ like a thousand times today on the boat.”
    “That could be English? No. Australian.”
    Brock laughs. “No fair, mate. You gave it away.”
    “Sorry, dude.” My arms tighten around Leesie’s waist. “I don’t like to see my damsel in distress.”
    Brock takes the hint. “Well,” he stands, “we’ll leave you two to it.” He drags Ethan and Cooper off their butts. “Let’s give the lovers some peace.
    “See you upstairs, eh?” Cooper exaggerates his accent.
    “Glad to have you aboard.” Ethan puts out his hand, and Leesie takes it. “Alex is that pleased to have another lass in the place.”
    Leesie smiles and let’s go of his hand. “Thanks. We’ll be up soon.”
    She watches them out of sight. I watch her. She plays with my fingers clasped around her waist.
    I notice she put my ring on her finger. Cool, babe. That’s where it belongs. “What do you think?”
    “I like the Commonwealth Brothers.”
    I nod. “Divers.”
    “What’s with Gabriel?”
    “He’s a Latin playboy who will inherit half the known universe.”
    “He is gorgeous.”
    “I heard that.” I kiss the soft spot where her neck and shoulder meet.
    She relaxes against me. “They are all a lot nicer than that guy upstairs.”
    “Seth.”
    “He’s gross.”
    “All guys are gross after they’ve drunk themselves numb.”
    She cranes her neck so she can see my face. “You’ll never do that will you?”
    “I can only think of one thing that would make me do that.” I tip my forehead so it touches her head.
    “What?”
    “What do you think?” I release her waist and rub her shoulders.
    “Me?” She shifts so she lying in my arms across my lap. “In Thailand”—she touches my face and her voice drops low—“when I accused you”—she turns her head and stares at the ocean like she’s trying to see me on the other side of the world—“what happened?”
    I follow her gaze. “I became a work-a-holic.”
    “I’m glad you had that job.”
    “I should have blown it off—come right home and set you straight.”
    She turns her face back to mine. “I should have believed you. Trusted you.”
    I should never have stormed off in the first place. But freak, girl, you should have taken my ring. I feel echoes of how angry I was even now.
    She kisses my neck. “I’m sorry.” She finds my lips. “Things would be so different if I’d believed you.”
    “What do you mean?” I murmur against her mouth.
    “Nothing.” Her lips are on mine for a long time. “Why didn’t I trust you?”
    “I don’t know, babe.” I scoop her closer so I can kiss her better. “It doesn’t matter now.”
    I’m starving, and I’ve got all those tanks to