The Vincent Brothers -- Extended and Uncut (Vincent Boys) Read online

  “You know, I think I will leave with Ash and Beau,” I replied, hoping I’d masked the humiliation in my voice.

  “Wait. No. What’d I do?” Sawyer’s hurt little boy voice almost stopped me. But his words, which had implied that we were going to go up to the bedroom and do God knows what while a room full of people listened, kept me moving toward Ashton.

  “Come on,” Ashton whispered, pulling me to her side and leading me out the door.

  “Someone sober drive him home, or call me to come get him,” Beau said in parting, before he turned and followed us outside.

  “I’m not drunk!” Sawyer declared loudly.

  Then the door closed, and I had to fight back the tears.

  Chapter 6

  SAWYER

  I was drunk. I’d only been drunk one other time in my life, and that had been the day I’d found out about Beau and Ashton. I was almost positive that I was even drunker than I had been then. My stomach rolled, and I bent over for the third time and hurled into the bushes in the front of Kayla’s yard. Cold sweat trickled down my face, and I rested my hands on my knees and closed my eyes, praying I didn’t pass out in my own vomit. What the hell had I drunk? All I could remember was pouring some rum into a few or more of my Cokes. Maybe I’d stopped adding the Coke after a while and just went with straight rum. . . . No, wait, I’d switched to vodka. We’d run out of rum. My stomach heaved again, but there was nothing left to come out. Backing up, I leaned against the cold brick wall and let the fresh air cool me down.

  “Drink this, you stupid fucker.”

  I peeled my eyes open to see Beau’s annoyed expression as he pressed a chilled plastic bottle into my hand. Dropping my gaze, I saw he’d brought me water. The aftertaste of my regurgitated liquor wasn’t appealing. I should have thanked him for coming to the rescue, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

  Opening the bottle, I took a long swig and instantly felt better.

  “Get a few more drinks, then come on. I’m taking you home.”

  His bossy attitude was beginning to get on my nerves. He wasn’t suddenly the good brother—or cousin, as far as everyone else knew. Just because he had Ash didn’t make him the smart one.

  “Back off, Beau,” I said with snarl, and took another drink of my water.

  “I promised Ash I wouldn’t knock some sense into you tonight. Don’t make me break that promise.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pushed off from the side of the house where I’d been resting and walked past Beau toward my truck. I wasn’t drunk anymore. I’d just expelled every drop of alcohol from my body in the Jenkinses’ shrubbery.

  “Don’t do this, Sawyer. You’ve had too much to drink and you’re ready to pass out. Let me take you home.”

  Stopping, I turned around and glared at him. “Why? All I do is piss off Ash. I can’t stop looking at her. Wanting her. Why the fuck do you want to help me so bad?”

  Beau let out a sigh and returned my glare. “Because you’re my brother.”

  That was the crux of it all. It sure hadn’t mattered to him that I was his brother when he’d taken my girl. Technically, he’d thought I was his cousin, but we’d always been as close as brothers.

  “I thought we’d gotten our closure on this, Sawyer. You gave me your blessing. You gave Ash your blessing, and you walked away. What’s wrong?”

  What was wrong? Everything was wrong. He got my girl. He got the college I wanted to attend. He got every fucking damn thing I wanted in life.

  “Nothing,” I muttered, and turned around and headed for my truck again.

  “Sawyer, I will literally force you into my truck if I have to.” Beau didn’t sound angry, just sincere.

  Tonight I wasn’t up to handling a one-on-one with him. I was more than positive I’d lose and possibly have a few bruises to show for it.

  “Fine. Drive me home.”

  * * *

  After Beau dropped me off, I’d taken a long hot shower and then crawled into bed. Luckily, neither of my parents got up to check on me. I was safe from getting caught coming home trashed. My mother would never get over it if she saw me like this. I’d always been the good boy. Not one time had I given them any reason not to trust me completely. Look where that got me.

  Once I pulled the sheets up over my waist, I stared at the ceiling and replayed the fit Ashton had pitched tonight in my head. She’d been angry. Why? Because I’d been making out with Lana in public? All we’d done was kiss. Granted, it was one really hot kiss, and that girl’s skin was incredible to touch. Her hair smelled like some sort of soft flower, and before we’d been interrupted by a stupid demand that we get a room, I’d been thinking about how I wanted to taste the skin in the curve of her neck. Her pulse had been racing under my lips and it had been intoxicating . . . like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

  Ashton had put a quick stop to things, though. She’d been spitting mad—almost a little too mad. Was she . . . jealous? Could she be? I hadn’t really dated anyone since our breakup. She’d never seen me with any girls—certainly not making out like that. But . . . jealous . . . maybe. A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, and I reached for my cell phone.

  Me: Please tell Lana I’m sorry I got drunk and was a jerk.

  I pressed send and waited to see what Ashton’s reply was. Almost immediately my phone dinged. Grinning, I sat up and read.

  Ashton: Yes, you were. I’ll tell her. Just stay away from her, Sawyer.

  She was jealous. She didn’t like me being interested in someone else. Ashton wanted both Vincent brothers enthralled with her. Well, this could turn out to be fun as hell.

  Me: Can’t do that, Ash. I really like her.

  I almost thought she wasn’t going to reply when the phone lit up and I read her text.

  Ashton: I don’t want her to get hurt.

  I laughed to myself; I knew better. She didn’t want to share my affection. Stingy little brat.

  Me: I wouldn’t hurt her. I want to spend some time with her. Can I have her number?

  Ashton: Not tonight.

  I lay back in bed, grinning, thinking that Ash had just made this game too fun to walk away.

  LANA

  “Lana?” Ashton’s voice broke into my internal battle of staying there or just giving up and going back home.

  “Yeah,” I replied, wishing I could successfully fake-sleep.

  Ashton opened the door to the guest bedroom where my aunt had insisted I sleep, instead of the extra mattress on the floor of Ashton’s room where I’d normally slept. I sat up and watched as she walked over to me, wringing her hands. That one small nervous mannerism of hers told me that this was about Sawyer. Not something I wanted to talk about—at least not tonight.

  “Um . . . do you, uh, do you like Sawyer?”

  How blind could one person be? Ashton had always been clueless to the world around her. She had her small bubble, and she worried about what affected her and nothing more. I was invading her bubble, and she was noticing things that she should have picked up on years ago.

  “Yes, a little.”

  Her bare, perfectly tanned shoulders lifted with a sigh, and she nodded. “I thought so.”

  She sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. I studied her face and wondered if the concern was for me or herself or possibly Sawyer.

  “Sawyer wasn’t himself tonight. You know that.” She lifted her eyes to meet mine, and I saw only sadness—no jealousy or anxiety. She was just sad.

  “I know. I didn’t even realize he drank. I thought that was Beau’s M.O.”

  “He normally doesn’t. Tonight I saw a side of Sawyer I’d never seen before. He was very . . . Beau-like. Or at least the way Beau used to be.”

  Her words made everything click. The puzzle that Sawyer had created tonight all fell into place. He had acted like Beau back when Beau wanted Ashton and didn’t have her. A small ache in my chest started and, unfortunately, it was all too familiar. It was the same ache I’d felt when I’d seen
the tender, completely devoted look Sawyer bestowed on Ashton every time he glanced her way, which had been often.

  “Makes sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to Ashton.

  Instead of asking me what I meant, she only nodded and stared helplessly at the pale blue wall across from her. At least she got it, and I didn’t have to spell it out for her. Sawyer was coping with not having Ashton by drinking and acting out. It had been six months for crying out loud. How long did he need?

  “He texted me tonight.”

  “Who?” I assumed she was talking about Sawyer, but with Ashton you never could be sure which Vincent boy she was talking about.

  “Sawyer. He asked about you. Wanted me to tell you he was sorry.”

  My stupid heart sped up, and I tried to keep my face composed. I reminded myself he’d probably been more worried about Ashton’s feelings than mine.

  “Oh” was the only response I could muster.

  “I don’t know what his motives are, Lana. I mean, you are gorgeous and he is a guy. I can see that he could be interested in you—”

  “But you’re also worried he’s using me to get to you.” I finished her thought for her.

  Ashton pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and grimaced. Yep, it sounded bad when said out loud. But it was the truth.

  “The Sawyer I know, the Sawyer I loved isn’t calculating and cruel. But the Sawyer I knew also would have never gotten drunk at a party and made out with a girl in public. Heck, I’m pretty sure you did more with Sawyer on that couch than I did with Sawyer during the three years we dated.” Ashton let out a hard, short laugh. “I basically had to beg him to do more than a few chaste kisses. He was so controlled. Tonight, when I came downstairs and saw the two of you, and well, his hands . . . ” she trailed off.

  I knew exactly where his hands had been and remembering made my face heat up.

  “I guess what I’m trying to say is, be careful. I don’t know what he’s up to, and I don’t want to believe he is trying to get to me through you. I just don’t think he would do that. Honestly, if you and Sawyer became an item, I’d be happy for both of you. He’s a wonderful guy. He just wasn’t ‘my guy’ . . . ya know?”

  I didn’t know what to say to her. I was surprised she was so okay with Sawyer moving on. Sure, Beau was a hottie, but if Sawyer had been mine, I’d be devastated to see him move on.

  “He wants your cell phone number. I didn’t give it to him. I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.”

  “Give it to him,” I replied quickly.

  Ashton laughed and nodded before standing up. “Well, okay, then. Glad to know where you stand.” The teasing in her voice was a relief. She really was okay with this.

  “This summer . . . my coming here . . . It wasn’t just about wanting to spend time with you before we go off to college.”

  Ashton grinned and raised her eyebrows. “I can’t believe you’re telling me a Vincent boy—not me—brought you to Grove, Alabama.”

  Shrugging, I returned her smile. “They’re hard to resist.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  * * *

  I stood at the window and watched as Ashton jumped into Beau’s arms and proceeded to kiss his face all over as if she hadn’t just seen him last night. It was kind of gross. He was shirtless and covered in sweat. He reached up and turned his dirty University of Alabama baseball hat around backward before grabbing Ashton’s face and taking over her wandering lips. Shaking my head, I turned away from the major public display of affection those two were sharing with the entire street. She’d been clean when she left, and now she had Beau Vincent sweat—not to mention the grass probably stuck to his body—all over her outfit. She’d better hope her daddy didn’t decide to come home for an early lunch. That would not go over well.

  The short clip of “Tell Him” by Colbie Caillat alerted me that I had a text message. Running over to the dresser, I grabbed the phone; my heart fluttered before I even read the message.

  Sawyer: It’s Sawyer. I’m sorry about last night. Let me make it up to you. I’m taking the boat out today. Come with me, please.

  I didn’t even give myself time to think it through. I quickly typed.

  Me: Okay. When?

  Playing hard to get might be the best way to handle this if Sawyer actually liked me. But I wasn’t sure. If I was just a weapon to use against Ashton, then I needed to change that. I needed to make him see me.

  Sawyer: Can you be ready in an hour?

  Me: Yes.

  Sawyer: Wear a swimsuit. Preferably that bikini you had on last night.

  I had to take a deep calming breath, and I reread his request several times before typing.

  Me: K.

  Chapter 7

  SAWYER

  Lana opened the front door the moment I pulled into Ash’s driveway. I needed to fix the mess I’d made last night, so instead of enjoying the view of her long, creamy legs showcased in tiny, red shorts, I jumped out of the truck and walked around the front of the cab so I could open the door and help her get in.

  A shy smile played on her full lips as I met her on the other side of my truck. Yep, I had hope. Even after the stunt I’d pulled last night, she was still affected by me. Guilt settled in my stomach when I stared into her trusting eyes.

  “Hey.” Her Georgia drawl wasn’t bad either. I’d never realized Lana had a sexy voice.

  “I’m glad you’ve forgiven me enough to come today.”

  She shrugged. Her shoulders were dainty, and a few freckles graced the smooth skin she was exposing with a sleeveless top. I hadn’t noticed those last night, and the urge to kiss each one shocked me.

  “Not much to forgive. You acted like an ass, but you were drunk. I should’ve been paying closer attention.”

  I couldn’t keep from laughing. Lana McDaniel had just called me an ass.

  “That’s awfully considerate of you,” I replied.

  “Hmmm . . . maybe so.”

  I opened the truck door and reached out to take her hand as she stepped up into the cab. The shorts rode even farther up her legs and, through my appreciative gaze, I noticed one lone freckle incredibly close to the curve of her heart-shaped bottom. My pulse sped up, and I forced myself to stop ogling her backside.

  Unsure about whether or not my voice was going to betray me, I didn’t say anything as I closed the door and went back around to the driver’s side.

  * * *

  Once we headed toward the boat launch, I glanced over at Lana. “You still know how to wakeboard, don’t you?” I’d spent hours teaching her how to board one summer when we were in middle school while Ash and Beau heckled her from the boat.

  A small smile tugged on her lips, and I wondered if she was remembering that day too. It had been us against Ash and Beau. For once I’d felt like I had a team. It was always me trying to rein in those two, but that day I’d had a partner. Granted, I’d wanted Ash as my partner. That was the summer before everything changed, the summer before I became quarterback and I got Ash.

  “Yes, I think. Isn’t it like a bicycle? Ya know, once you learn you never forget?”

  The guys were going to enjoy this a little too much. If I hadn’t needed a spotter and a backup driver, we would be doing this alone today. But skiing and boarding, with only two people, wasn’t safe. Someone needed to be watching the rider and, if I wanted to wakeboard, and I did—especially with Lana—then I needed another driver.

  “Hmmm . . . maybe a little. It might take you a few tries if you’re rusty,” I finally replied.

  Lana let out a small groan, and I bit back a laugh. She’d had the hardest time learning to get up on skis, and then the wakeboard had almost done her in. I always admired her determination, though. She hadn’t given up.

  “If we are skiing and wakeboarding, others will be there, right?”

  I nodded, noticing the small disappointment in her voice. She wanted me alone. I liked that—a lot.

  “Will Ethan be there?”


  My small moment of pleasure evaporated.

  “Ethan? Uh, probably.” Well, shit. I had forgotten about their little bonding episode at Wings. Ethan hadn’t been at the party last night. He didn’t know about our public display of affection. No, wait—he probably did. That was gossip worthy. Someone was bound to have told him by now.

  “Oh, good. I’ll at least have one other friend there.”

  Hell, no. I’d have to pull Ethan aside without her noticing and make sure he understood Lana was off-limits.

  Again the guilt started tugging at me and I pushed it away. Sure, Ethan might be more sincere about his interest in Lana, but she was here only for the summer. Then we were all heading off to college. If anyone was going to have a summer fling with her, it was going to be me. End of story. No reason for guilt. This was a means to an end. Besides, I took a quick peek over at Lana; it wasn’t like I didn’t enjoy her company. She was gorgeous, smart, and funny. Plus, being with her was going to drive Ashton mad, maybe even send her running right back to my arms. . . . There was that damn guilt again. I needed a beer. That always helped wash away my conscience.

  LANA

  My cell phone rang, and I quickly pulled it out of my pocket. It was Ashton. I’d texted her that I was going boating with Sawyer today. She must have thought that warranted a phone call instead of a text reply.

  “Hey,” I said, trying hard not to look at Sawyer. He was driving, but I could feel his eyes on me.

  “Are you two going alone? Because if you are, that isn’t safe. Beau and I can come too.”

  No way did I want Ashton anywhere near Sawyer today. I needed to get his attention, and when Ashton was around, he was single-minded. “No, we’re going skiing. Others are coming too. It’ll be safe.”

  “If that’s Ash, tell her that she and Beau are welcome to join us,” Sawyer piped up. Dang it.