Willa gave her sister a playful hip check. “Do it. Kenzi would never believe it anyway.”
Lexi’s smile widened shamelessly. “You’re probably right. Hey, on the bright side, we don’t know how to drive a jet ski so that means we’ll be cuddling up against some Barringtons today.”
Willa smiled back but corrected, “Who see us as their little sister’s friends.”
Lexi arched an eyebrow at Willa and wrinkled her nose at Willa’s T-shirt and shorts. “You, maybe, not me.”
“Lexi—”
Her sister waved a hand in surrender. “Don’t say it. I know. Really, Willa, you need to relax. There is nothing wrong with flirting. I’m not going to sleep with any of them. I’m not that stupid.”
“That’s a lot of beer,” Lance said as his brother, Andrew, opened the large cooler from the back of the Jeep they’d used to drive supplies down to the beach.
“Want one?” Andrew cracked a can open and took a long gulp.
“I don’t drink much,” Lance said. Life was generally out of control enough without adding alcohol to it.
“You’d better not. You’re not legal,” Grant, the second oldest of the Barrington brothers, said sternly.
Andrew rolled his eyes. “The Marine Corp handed me an M16 at twenty, but the government won’t let him have a beer? Give him a break.”
In the same stern tone, Grant said, “I don’t care if Lance has a few at college but not here. You shouldn’t either.”
Andrew took another deep gulp. “See, that makes me want to get shit-faced.”
Asher walked over and lifted the top of the cooler. “Just beer?”
Lance gave his eldest brother a measured look. “Not up to your standards? Were you hoping for Macallan on the rocks? Money hasn’t changed you at all, has it?”
Asher’s expression tightened. “On your next birthday, you’ll get the same amount I did. It’s your choice if you want to do something with it or piss it away.”
“Is that crack directed at me?” Andrew asked, straightening to his full height.
Asher didn’t look at all bothered that he might have offended him. “No, you’re throwing away your life, not your money. I look at you as an investment of sorts. If you’re signing up for another two years, make sure your will is up to date.”
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Grant said, “Not funny, Asher.” He looked across at Andrew. “Andrew, keep your head down and don’t get killed. But you should have a current will. That part was actually sound advice.”
“Your concern is touching,” Andrew said sarcastically.
Whatever Asher was about to say was interrupted by Ian’s arrival. “It’s a beautiful day. Let’s not argue.” He was well on his way to following in their father’s political footsteps. When it suited him, he could be smooth and persuasive. But, he could also be a bull—and often was with the family. Lance figured that came from growing up so close in age with Grant and Asher. It was a case of step up or be stepped on. Although there was only a span of ten years between the oldest and youngest of them, their childhoods had been very different. Asher remembered life before their mother had her breakdown. He was old enough to have been affected by the scandal that had rocked the family. What he’d seen had hardened him. To some extent, Grant and Ian were the same. Lance, Andrew, and Kenzi on the other hand had been too young to understand. They only knew the aftermath. In some ways it had split the family in two: those who were angry and had become controlling asses, and those who had to put up with them.
Andrew faced the annoyance head-on. He held up his drink. “Chill, Ian. It’s all good.” He threw a second beer to Lance, who caught it only because it would have hit him square in the chest if he hadn’t. “Right, Lance?”
Lance survived his family by not engaging. Given a choice, he would have stayed at school during vacations, but that wasn’t an option. When summoned home, they came. All of them, even the mighty Asher. Then, like puppets on strings, they would pretend to be close until they were given permission to leave again. It was pathetic, really, how little control even his very successful brothers had over this part of their lives. It should have made them less oppressive, but it hadn’t.
It might have been the parental disapproving look his three oldest brothers were giving him or the fact that he and Andrew had always been close and he missed him, but Lance opened his beer and took a swig. “Absolutely.”
Andrew looked past him and whistled. “Holy fuck, who is that?”