Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Carter

W e're interrupted by the approach of a tall woman with exotic features. The closer she gets the clearer my vision and I recognize her as someone who's been in several commercials with Declan. He waves to her.

"C'mon up," he calls.

"What's her name?" I ask as my gaze snaps from her to him.

"Her name is Marisol. Marisol Franzi. We work together."

My spine stiffens as Declan extends his hand to her. She takes it and the hair on my neck rises. I wasn't expecting a guest.

"Everyone, this is Marisol. Marisol, this is my mom, Rose, my brother, Carter, and Carter's better half, Lacey."

A pregnant pause follows as she inspects us. "It's nice to meet you."

My ass.

Her tone is condescending and her manner superior. My gaze drifts from her to my brother. He can tell I'm not happy. "We weren't expecting guests."

"I didn't think anyone would mind if she joined us for dinner," Declan announces.

I give him a hard look."It would have been nice if you would've given us a heads-up. I'm not sure we're prepared for guests."

Declan shrugs me off. "I didn't think it was that big a deal. You have Lacey here. I thought I'd invite a friend as well."

Of course, you did.

As usual, the typical youngest child asks no permission but expects forgiveness. The I can do what I want and get away with it attitude of childhood screams entitlement now that he's an adult. If you have this, I can have that. It's bullshit. I'm about to say something snarky, the words ready to rapid fire from my lips, when Mom rises from her chair and cuts in front of me.

"It's very nice to meet you. Marisol, did you say? What a lovely name." Mom reaches for her hand. "I'm Rose."

"You're the mother, correct?"

A smile I can only describe as villainous slinks onto Marisol's lips, and her gaze drifts between the three of us. She looks up, her surveilling eyes settling on Declan.

"It's so strange. I see no resemblance at all." She pauses, the smile turning a bit more wicked as she sets her eyes on Mom. "He's adopted?"

My mother's smile crumbles as her eyes widen. She's momentarily stunned. I'm not.

"What a curious thing to say to someone you've just met. If my mother wasn't so understanding, she might take it as an insult. Since you're a guest of my brother's, I'll give you a little leeway. Maybe something got lost in translation. He's not adopted though, at the moment, he might as well be." I turn my sight to Declan. "Your friend's manners need checking."

"She didn't mean it as an insult," Declan interjects. "Sometimes things do get lost in translation. Marisol's originally from Columbia."

"Oh, no. I meant ... Declan's a very handsome man. He doesn't look like either of you."

My forehead pinches. "Wow. They must not have manners in Columbia. The insults just keep on coming with you, huh? Maybe you should think about what you're saying before you open your mouth."

"Knock it off, Carter," Declan spits.

"Muzzle your guest, Declan."

"Stop it," Mom interjects. "I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding." She issues Marisol a sweet smile. "Are you staying nearby, dear?"

"Dee-clan invited me?—"

"She's staying here." Declan drops.

"We don't have the room."

"She can stay in my room."

Heat fires up my neck. "I don't think so." I cast a look at Marisol. "But since my brother got you here on false pretenses, you're welcome to stay for dinner."

The two of us exchange a heated glance. I could kick my brother's ass for ruining our first day here because he's so goddamn cocky.

Marisol looks between us. By the look in her eyes, she's no doubt enjoying the tension. Her sinister smile widens. "Miscommunication is a problem even when language isn't a barrier, no?"

I shoot a look at my brother. "Straighten this out, Dee-clan."

"I did. She's staying."

"Like hell she is." I'm about to go nuclear on his ass when Marisol interjects.

"Aww. I love when men fight over me."

I've had enough of this shit.

Everyone is quiet as I rise and go inside the house. I grab my cell phone, look up the number of a hotel downtown, and dial. "Yeah, I'd like to make a reservation ..."

"Declan!"

The porch door whines as he enters the house."What?"

"I just texted reservation details for Marisol to your phone."

He rears back. "What? You don't even know her schedule."

I slip the cell into my back pocket. "I don't give a shit about her schedule. It's for two nights. King room. You can alter it when you take her there."

He challenges me with a dagger-filled stare. "What is your problem? You're being rude."

"Me? Rude?" I scoff. "That's rich. Your girlfriend gave us all a hefty dose. She's not staying here."

"She's not my girlfriend, and I'm not a little kid you can boss around."

He's plucked my last nerve.

I fly at his face, teeth gritted, and nostrils flared. "I said ... Marisol's. Not. Staying."

We exchange angry glares, then Declan's expression turns cocky. He shrugs. "You made the plans. You tell her."

"I will."

"I'm warning you; she's got a nasty temper."

"All the better that she has somewhere to spew it." I stomp out to the porch where my mother makes an attempt at small talk with Marisol. Lacey watches as I insert myself in between the two women.

"Excuse me, Mom. I've made reservations for Marisol at the Marriott downtown. "I turn to Marisol. "Declan will drive you. I booked two nights. It's a nice hotel, though I'm sure the accommodations won't be what you're used to."

She eyeballs me with a narrow-eyed glance. I can almost see the moment when it dawns on her I'm not playing because the sinister smile returns.

"Thank you." She turns her eyes to Declan. "Thank you for your offer to stay, Dee-clan, but I must take your brother's offer instead. Of course, you're welcome to stay. We always have a good time, don't we."

It's a statement, not a question, and she runs her hand down Declan's arm in a seductive move.

A huffed laugh escapes. This bitch acts like she's in heat and my mother's eyes widen. She's not naive. Declan hasn't lived at home for a couple of years. His virginity isn't in question. It's Marisol's behavior that surprises Mom. She's bold. No, not bold; vulgar. Where most women would want to keep their private life private, she seems to thrive on the shock value her behavior incites.

"Maybe you should take Marisol out to dinner, brother. Get her something to eat." His eyes meet mine and a sneer finds its way to my lips. "I mean, seriously, Dec; the woman looks like she hasn't had a good meal in ages."