Chapter One

Grey

I have the worst luck on earth. If I flew to Mars, I’m sure my bad luck would outdo all those little green men and women over there too. How else would I end up with a brother who’s insane and impossible to understand, not to mention a best friend who’s the sexiest woman on earth but who has no interest in me whatsoever? No sexual interest, that is. She never forgets to share all the details of her love life with me.

So yes, I have monumentally bad luck.

Jessica O’Connor has done this to me. She drives me barmy, but I can’t help the fact that I love her. I’m in love with her, have been for years, but she sees me as her asexual best friend, the mate she shares all her innermost thoughts with even when I’d rather not hear them. Do I seem asexual? I have no idea. I love sex, but apparently, I’m bloody awful at it.

That’s why Jess lost interest. It’s why all the women I shag lose interest.

My brother doesn’t make matters any easier. He’s determined to “help” me with my problems and ensure I win Jessica’s heart. It’s rubbish. He’s off his trolley and bloody irritating. I have no say in any of it, though. Alex will do whatever he thinks is best, which will most likely wind up being something that humiliates and emasculates me even more than I’ve already done on my own.

Today, I’m sitting in the backseat of a taxicab with my best friend beside me, heading toward a mysterious destination. My half-brother, Alex Thorne, is getting married here in America, despite the fact he lives in Scotland now with his fiancée, Catriona MacTaggart. His adoptive parents have moved there too, but they’re as British as Alex and I are. My brother has refused to tell me what sort of destination he and Cat have chosen for their wedding. He even threatened to blindfold me and Jessica during the cab ride to wherever we’re going, but I put my foot down.

“No, Alex, absolutely no way,” I’d said yesterday when he mentioned the idea. “If you try to blindfold me, I will tell Cat that you called her brother Rory a Cro-Magnon relic of the ice age who needs to thaw his shriveled, frozen bollocks in his wife’s mouth.”

“I was joking when I said that,” Alex told me, smirking like he loves to do. “Everyone knows that. I was joking about the blindfold too. Mostly.”

“The MacTaggarts all think you’re barmy, and I agree.”

“Don’t be so provincial, Grey. If you want to shag Jessica again, and do it right this time, you need to loosen up and develop a sense of humor.”

The conversation had devolved after that. Alex insists I have no sense of humor, but I have got one. Jess loves my jokes. She might treat me like a eunuch, but a eunuch that she loves.

As a mate. Only a mate.

Bloody hell.

I glance at Jessica. Her eyes always entrance me, the way they’re blue but with golden rims around the pupils. Her dark-chocolate hair glistens, and I wish I could brush my fingers through it.

She’s gazing out the side window, smiling while she takes in the scenery.

Trees, that’s the scenery. Loads of ruddy trees. I like nature—honestly, I do—but being ferried through the forests of Oregon in a cab driven by a strange man who leers at us in the rearview mirror is not my idea of a good time.

Jessica bounces on the seat, grinning and pointing at something in the sky. “Look! A bald eagle!”

She aims her excited expression at me.

My heart stutters whenever she looks at me that way, so full of joy and excitement. She’s been talking about this trip for weeks, ever since Alex ordered me to invite Jess to come along. Why does she have to be so beautiful and adorable? It makes me long to kiss her, but she doesn’t want that.

“Did you see it?” she asks.

What had she been on about a second ago? I was too busy staring at her lips to notice. “See what?”

“The bald eagle.” She gives my shoulder a halfhearted shove. “Pay attention, Grey. Daydreaming about your computer stuff is not allowed this week, remember?”

I was daydreaming about her, not “computer stuff,” but there’s no point in telling her that. Instead, I say, “Sorry. I’ll stop thinking, I promise.”

That’s not much of a sacrifice since my brain shuts down every time she smiles. And Alex did command me not to do any work while I’m here in Oregon. He vowed to smash my computer with a sledgehammer if I brought it with me. I did bring it, of course, but I’ve hidden it in my largest bag with my clothes. Unless Alex rifles through my bag, he won’t know I’ve brought my forbidden laptop.

“Oh!” Jessica cries out, scooting closer to me so she can lean over my body to see out the window on my side. Her breasts brush against my chest, and she lays a hand on my thigh, much too close to my groin. Her attention is riveted to the view outside. “What is that? I think it might be a turkey, but I can’t see it very well with the trees in the way.”

“Should I burn down the forest to give you a better view?”

“No, silly.”

I’m enjoying the view of her cleavage a bit too much. Why did she have to wear a low-cut T-shirt? The way she’s leaning over forces me to stare at the slopes of her lush breasts. All right, maybe I’m not forced to do it. But I’m only a man, you know. I can’t help that my eyes veer to her chest when those tits are dangling right in front of me.

And the part of me that I least want to hear from right now is clamoring for my attention.

Shifting in my seat, I grimace at the heaviness growing in my, ah, nether regions. Fine, it’s my testicles. And it’s Jessica’s fault I’m getting randy against my will.

No, it’s my fault. I won’t blame her. She’s sexy as hell, but I should have the willpower not to get aroused by her. I’m the one who cocked up sex, which convinced her I’m a eunuch.

Her hand on my thigh slips, and it brushes against my dick.

I choke on my own saliva.

Jessica pulls away from the window, sitting inches away from me. She combs her fingers through my hair while I try to stop coughing. “Oh Greybee, are you okay?”

“Fine, yes.”

Christ, why does she have to call me that embarrassing nickname when other people are around? Greybee is a contraction of “Grey baby,” though she decided to spell it with two E’s at the end for reasons I don’t even try to understand. She insists on using that pet name in emails, usually accompanied by emojis of hugs and mouths blowing kisses. I might enjoy her affectionate, if silly, name for me if we were a couple. But it’s bloody humiliating to have her call me that in front of the macho MacTaggart men—or in front of the leering cab driver in the front seat.

And of course, Jessica used that name in front of my brother. And of course, Alex now calls me Greybee whenever he wants to harass me.

“Almost there,” the driver says, leering at us again. “Bet you can’t wait to join the other weirdos. I hear it’s a real freak-a-palooza out there this week.”

“Jessica is not a freak,” I announce. “She’s a lovely person.”

The lovely woman in question laughs and pinches my cheek. “You’re so sweet, Greybee.”

“Could you please call me Grey while we’re at this wedding-week extravaganza?” I’m positive my brother will turn it into a true extravaganza with all sorts of crazy activities. If he tries to rope me into a round of Highland games with his Scots mates, I will murder him. With my bare hands. And I won’t feel bad about it at all.

Jess leans her head against my shoulder, snuggling up to me.

I need to kiss her, so badly. I need to shag her too, even more badly, but I can never, ever do that again.

Unless I somehow, by a genuine miracle from heaven, become brilliant at sex.

The driver turns down a gravel driveway, passing through an open metal gate. I glimpse a sign on the gate, but I don’t have a chance to read it. Jessica’s body nestled against mine is distracting me from everything else in the universe.

A few minutes later, we pass through another open gate. The trees thin out, revealing a big clearing that houses various buildings of various sizes and what looks like a large lawn with a volleyball net set up in the middle of it. Other cars are parked behind the largest building and behind a smaller house. The MacTaggarts will be here along with my cousins and our mates, the Hunters. So will Alex and his fiancée, Cat, along with Alex’s adoptive parents.

My chest aches, but not because of Jessica. Alex has parents. I don’t, not anymore, not really. Alex and I share the same birth mother, but she’s in prison. I don’t count her as my mother, anyway. I grew up with only my father, and he’s gone now. I’ve known my brother for only about four months, so we’re still getting to know each other.

I wish Dad were here. He’d know what to do about…everything. Selwyn Dixon always had the right answer to every question.

Jessica kisses my cheek. “Stop thinking sad thoughts about your dad. This is a time to be happy. Your brother is getting married.”

“How did you know what I was thinking about?”

“Because I know you.” She touches the spot between my eyebrows. “And I know that crinkly-between-the-eyes look you get when you’re thinking about your dad. Selwyn would want you to be happy.”

Jessica and I have known each other since university, so she knew my father. He loved her and used to tell me, often, that I should marry her. Dad passed away five years ago, and I wouldn’t have survived that without Jess. Honestly, I’m not sad about it anymore, not most of the time, but my life has been turned upside down over the past few months—finding out I have a half-brother, meeting his Scottish fiancée and his soon-to-be in-laws who are the barmiest bunch of Scots I’ve ever met. I like them, but I don’t feel like I belong…anywhere.

Except with Jessica.

The driver stops the cab near the smaller house. “You’re here. Enjoy the freak fest.”

I get out first, then help Jessica out. She stumbles into me, crushing those beautiful breasts against my chest, but quickly pulls away. Her gaze swivels left and right while she takes in our surroundings.

The cab’s boot pops open. Our driver climbs out to retrieve our bags and drops them on the ground. He gets back in the taxi and leans his head out the window, leering at us again. “The freaks in charge will take real good care of you, I’m sure.”

I give the man a tip, though considering his rather disturbing attitude, I don’t think he’s earned it. Etiquette requires I give him one anyway.

As the driver turns the taxicab around and rolls down the driveway, Alex walks out of the little house, followed by two people I’ve never seen before. The woman has strawberry-blonde hair, and the man has dark hair that’s longish and full of wild curls. He has an outrageously muscular body, so I’m sure all the women in attendance at this event will drool over him.

I am not jealous. I’m stating a fact, that’s all.

“There you are,” Alex says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Took you bloody long enough to get here.”

“Our flight got delayed during the stopover in Des Moines, where I picked up Jessica. I texted you.”

“Yes, I know. Whenever you text me, I’m amazed anew at how carefully you compose your messages. Perfect grammar, perfect punctuation, complete sentences.”

He’s smirking, which lets me know he’s teasing me. Alex has the most bizarre sense of humor.

“It’s cute,” Jessica says. “Grey cares about using proper English. Mostly. I mean, you Brits do have a strange idea of what proper English is.”

Alex raises his eyebrows, his lips twitching up at the corners. “We invented the language, love. It’s you Americans who have deformed it beyond recognition.”

I snort. “Not as much as the Scots have.”

“You might have a point there.” He leans in, his hand still on my shoulder. “But don’t tell Catriona I said that.”

I roll my eyes.

Jessica is smiling. She thinks Alex is, to quote her verbatim, “hot, weird, hilarious, and unique.”

Why can’t she describe me that way? Oh bugger. Now I’m whining in my thoughts about how Jess doesn’t want me. Grow a pair, mate, or you’ll never convince her to want you. Since I’ve had years to make that happen and have failed at every attempt, I’m not likely to change my luck this week.

Jessica is glancing around again, boosting up onto her tiptoes for a better look. “What is this place? Grey doesn’t even know, and I’m getting curiouser and curiouser.”

Alex hooks his thumbs in his waistband and rocks back on his heels. To the strawberry-blonde woman, he says, “Why don’t you explain it to them, Eve?”

“Sure, but we should introduce ourselves first.” The woman offers me her hand. “I’m Eve Silva, and the sexy beast beside me is my husband, Val. We own the resort.”

I shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Val steps up and shakes my hand, then both Eve and Val shake Jessica’s hand.

“Now that the introductions are over,” Eve says, “you must be dying to know what sort of place your brother has brought you to. He insisted on secrecy. But I’ll let Val explain.”

“Thank you, Eve,” the so-called sexy beast says. He has an accent, but I can’t quite place it. Val crosses his arms over his chest and smiles. “Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort.”

“Naturist?” I say, not at all sure what that means.

“Yes.” Val waves an arm in a sweeping gesture, indicating our surroundings. “You are guests at a nudist resort. Clothing is optional, though, so you don’t need to go nude unless you want to.”

My jaw goes slack, and for a few seconds, I can’t form a single coherent thought. “My brother brought us to a nudist camp?”

Alex clucks his tongue. “Don’t be such a prude, Grey. You can keep your kit on, but maybe you’ll embrace the naturist lifestyle. You never know.”

He rotates his eyes toward Jessica and tips his head in her direction, lifting his brows.

Oh no, he had better not be plotting what I think he’s plotting. The last thing on earth that I need is my brother meddling in my life. Well, any more than he already has. It’s too late to nip it in the bud.

“There’s one more thing,” Alex says. He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Domhnall Sterling is here.”

All the blood gushes out of my body as an icy chill sweeps through my veins. My eyes must be bulging, and though my mouth opens, I can’t generate any sound.

Jessica’s eyes flare wide too. “What is he doing here? How do you know my ex-fiancé?”

Oh yes, I have worse luck than anyone in the universe.

Chapter Two

Jessica

Oh. My. God. How did this happen? I broke up with Domhnall months ago, but he shows up here at the wedding of my best friend’s brother. How did he even know I’d be here? I certainly never told him.

“I don’t know Domhnall,” Alex Thorne says. “He showed up a few hours ago and said he’s your fiancé. I know that’s not true, since Grey told me you ended the engagement, but I thought you should sort things with him.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” I can’t think of anything else to say. Can’t think, period. Why did Domhnall follow me here? If he wants me back, he can screw that idea. “I’ll talk to him. I’m sorry he butted in on your special week.”

“Oh, I’ve handled much worse invasions than this.”

I’ve heard the stories about Alex—from Alex. So I know he’s been through some crazy stuff. That includes being kidnapped by his birth parents earlier this year, though an Australian bad guy orchestrated that whole affair. Alex’s adoptive parents are here somewhere, and I’m looking forward to meeting them. Grey says they’re lovely people. Though he and Alex share the same biological mother, Alex considers his real mom to be the woman who actually raised him, his adoptive mother, Imogen Bennett.

Grey and Alex’s birth mother is a con artist. Or she used to be. Now she lives inside a prison in Inverness, Scotland. Poor Greybee. He deserves a loving mom, not a criminal who abandoned him when he was six weeks old.

“Jessica doesn’t need to talk to Domhnall,” Grey announces.

His overprotective instincts can be sweet, but right now, he’s stepping over a line.

“That’s my decision,” I say. “And I think I’d better talk to Domhnall. Convince him to scram before he turns Alex and Catriona’s wedding into a reenactment of the Battle of Bannockburn.”

Grey swerves his gorgeous caramel eyes toward me, and a muscle jumps in his jaw. “Why did you use Bannockburn as your example of the disaster ahead of us? The Scots won that.”

“It was just a metaphor.”

Why is he prickly about that? Sheesh. Domhnall taught me about Scottish history. What’s the big deal? Grey has been behaving…not quite like himself lately.

I blame his big brother.

Yeah, I have zero evidence Alex is to blame, but he’s a convenient scapegoat. I like Alex, but Grey has changed since meeting his half-brother, though I can’t figure out why. They might share DNA and the same smoky-brown hair color, but otherwise, they seem like complete opposites.

“How did Domhnall know I’d be here?” I ask.

Alex shrugs. “He came with your friend Carly.”

“What? Oh, she’s getting an earful for sure.”

“Carly is an invited guest, and he’s her… What do they call it? Her plus one. That seems odd since he claims to be engaged to you, but then, Scots rarely make sense.”

Before I can speak, a woman’s voice calls out from behind Grey and his brother. “Alex Thorne, quit your havering. Haven’t I told you insulting my people is not allowed?”

A pretty woman with chestnut hair walks out from behind the men. She stops beside Alex, hands on her hips, and shakes her head. Her lips kink up at the corners.

“Catriona, my love, my darling,” Alex says with enough sarcasm that nobody could miss it. He throws an arm around her waist and tugs her into his body. “I was only joking. You Scots are the most charming, intelligent people in the world, and the bravest too. I aspire to be as noble and righteous as you lot.”

“Alex,” Catriona says, shaking her head again, “you couldn’t be righteous if your life depended on it.”

“Did I say righteous? I meant self-righteous.”

Catriona punches him in the side, though not with much force. “If ye donnae behave, mo leannan, I’ll have to insist you wear a tiara during the wedding ceremony. A pink, sparkly one.”

“I volunteer to wear a tiara. Anything for the love of my life.”

He doesn’t sound sarcastic when he says that. He really loves his fiancée. When he gives her a quick kiss, they gaze at each other with a kind of adoration I’ve never seen in the eyes of any man I’ve ever dated. Not even Domhnall, who I’d been ready to marry. Hadn’t I? Not sure. I said yes when he proposed, but I’d avoided setting a date.

My gaze snaps to Grey, and I feel a strange pressure in my chest.

“I should go talk to Domhnall,” I say. “Where is he?”

“Ask Ollie,” Alex says, waving toward the big building. “He assigned everyone’s rooms in the guest house. There’s been some overflow, what with an army of MacTaggarts in residence. Some are staying in tents, and others found rooms in town. At any rate, Ollie is the one to talk to.”

A blond man is standing near the guest house talking to a dark-haired woman. That must be Ollie. He kisses the woman’s cheek, and she combs her fingers through his hair. They smile at each other the way Alex and Catriona had done a minute ago.

Jeez, does everyone have a significant other except for me?

Well, Grey doesn’t have a girlfriend. Not yet. Considering how many beautiful women are coming to this wedding, he’ll probably have a girlfriend by tomorrow.

That pressure in my chest comes back. It’s stress related, I’m sure.

“We’ll be on the lawn,” Alex tells me. “You and Grey are the last to arrive, so it’s time for the opening ceremony.”

“I thought the wedding was Saturday. This is Monday.”

“The opening ceremony for the nuptial week festivities, that’s what I meant. It’s like the Olympics, but with lots of angry Scots who want to murder me. I’m used to death threats.”

“Oh. I get it.”

But no, I don’t really. Before I met Alex, I’d kind of assumed Grey was exaggerating when he told me his brother is “barmy.” Nope. As usual, Grey speaks the truth.

“I’m off,” I say. “See you guys later.”

Grey’s shoulders sag, and his expression wilts too.

He never liked Domhnall, but he has no reason to be depressed because I’m going to talk to my ex-fiancé. Maybe like me, he’s a little bummed by the lovey-dovey displays that seem to be happening everywhere.

Maybe Grey is suddenly kind of bummed because he’s wiped out from the long trip to get here. Every other wedding guest arrived yesterday, but a “work emergency” had kept him from flying over with Alex and the Scots in a private jet owned by one of the MacTaggarts. What kind of emergency a business intelligence analyst could have, I don’t know. It’s computer stuff, not nuclear weapons. A MacTaggart whose name I can’t remember sent his jet all the way back to the UK to collect Grey, and Grey had picked me up in Des Moines. The time difference meant he’d left and arrived this morning, local time, though it must be late afternoon in the UK by now. Or maybe it’s evening. Or it might be tomorrow or yesterday or…something. Since he slept on the plane, I don’t know if he has jet lag or not.

I’ll give him a hug later. That always makes him smile.

The blond man and his raven-haired companion smile when I approach them. They’re both wearing uniforms—charcoal pants and forest-green polo shirts that have the resort’s logo printed on them. They wear charcoal sneakers too.

“Welcome to Au Naturel Naturist Resort,” the man says, offering me his hand. “You must be Jessica O’Connor. Alex Thorne sent us photos of everyone just in case there were any gate-crashers. I’m Oliver Jackson, but everybody calls me Ollie.”

I shake his hand. “Nice to meet you, Ollie. This is a beautiful area. I’ve never been to Oregon before.”

“You’ll love it here. We have a hot spring and a lake, both on our private property.” He drapes an arm around the woman’s shoulders. “This is my wife, Mara.”

I shake her hand too. Wow, she’s a knockout, even in her work uniform.

“You’ll love where you’re staying,” Mara says. “Alex Thorne was adamant that you and his brother should have the new two-room bungalow we built a few months ago. It’s separate from the guest house, kind of hidden behind it. We’ll show you.”

“Um, I need to speak to Domhnall Sterling first.”

“Oh, right,” Ollie says with a grin. “The ex-fiancé. Sounds like we could have some drama on our hands, but it’s not the first time.”

Mara fake pouts. “I missed the first big smackdown that happened here.”

“Yeah, but you made one of your own when you scissor-kicked your ex-husband in the balls.”

“Not a scissor kick. You’re making me sound like a ninja.”

I raise my hand. “If you could just point me to Domhnall’s room…”

“Sure,” Ollie says. “Second floor, Room 210. Just go through the door behind us, down the hall to the stairs, and up to the first landing.”

“Thanks.”

I hurry into the guest house, following Ollie’s instructions, and reach the door to Room 210. Though I raise my hand to knock, I freeze with my fist an inch from the wood. My ex-fiancé is inside this room. He followed me here. That must mean he wants me back, but it’s too late. He wrecked our relationship months ago, and I will never forgive him for what he did.

But I should confront Domhnall, once and for all.

So I knock.

The door swings open, and Domhnall Sterling grins at me. “Jess, I’ve missed you.”

He flings his brawny arms around me and hauls me into an embrace, squeezing hard enough to make me wince. My face is smashed against his chest.

I wriggle but can’t get free. “Let go of me, Domhnall.”

Though he steps back, he keeps his hands on my upper arms. “You look bonnie as ever, Jess.”

He looks good too, of course. My ex couldn’t have shown a little courtesy and gotten flabby or developed a strong body odor. Nope, he smells good and looks even better. Not that I’m still attracted to him. But I am a woman, and he is a muscular, sexy man, which means I can’t help noticing all that. Still, I don’t feel the teeniest inclination to admire his biceps or run my hands over that chest. I used to love doing that, but not anymore.

“You need to go home,” I tell him. “This is a private wedding, and you are not going to ruin it for Alex and Catriona.”

“Ahmno leaving, Jess. Not unless you’re going with me.”

“It’s over, Domhnall. Finito. The end.”

“No, it’s not.” He brackets my face with his hands. “I love you, Jessica. We both know why you broke off the engagement, and it had nothing to do with me.”

“Yes, it did. You issued the ultimatum.”

“What else could I do? You need to cut that wee scunner loose. He’s keeping you from having what you really want, what you really need.”

“Oh, let me guess. You think I want and need you.” I push his hands away and lift my chin. “No way, Domhnall. If you really loved me, you would never have said those words to me.”

“Ye make it sound like I made an unreasonable demand.”

I huff. “Of course you did.”

“Maybe I need to say it again.” He leans in so close to my face that the stubble on his chin tickles me. “End your friendship with Grey Dixon. He’s a lead weight dragging you down. Cut him loose, Jess, and we can have the life we both want—together.”

“What you actually said was ‘Grey Dixon is a bod ceann who’s poisoning your mind against me.’ Then you ordered me to end the friendship.”

“Aye, and it’s what you need to do. Now, Jess, before it’s too late.”

“How could you think calling my best friend a dickhead was acceptable?” I take two big steps backward and clench my teeth. “If I told you to dump your closest friend, how would you feel? You’re nothing but a selfish prick who got jealous of my relationship with Grey. Who, by the way, is a better man than you’ll ever be.”

“That’s him talking, not you.”

“Ugh. I think for myself. And only an asshole would tell me I don’t. How can you not realize how condescending that is?” I hold my hands up when he starts to move toward me. “No, Domhnall, we are never getting back together. It’s over. Go home.”

I stalk down the hall and out of the guest house.

No, I will never cut Grey loose just to make a jealous jerk happy. Don’t care how amazing the sex was. Domhnall has no right to issue insulting ultimatums, and he absolutely has no right to follow me here as part of some asinine plot to win me back. Never going to happen.

Domhnall isn’t a horrible person deep down. The real Domhnall Sterling, the one I knew and cared about for two years, is stubborn but also smart and charming. I can’t understand why he’s behaved like such an ass ever since the day we broke up. His determination to drive a wedge between me and Grey has started to verge on obsession.

I bump into Carly just outside the guest-house door.

When she sees me, she bites her bottom lip and hunches her shoulders. “Jess, I’m so sorry. Domhnall was very convincing when he told me he just wanted to see you again so he could apologize for everything. I didn’t realize until we got here that he, um…”

“Lied to you? Yeah, Domhnall Sterling can be very persuasive. Why didn’t you warn me he’d be here?”

“He wanted it to be a surprise.” She grimaces. “Guess that should’ve been a clue, huh? I’m such an idiot.”

“No, I don’t blame you.” I never told Carly the details of why Domhnall and I broke up. We’re good friends, but not BFFs. That title belongs to Grey Dixon. “It’s okay, Carly. I’m not mad at you.”

“I hope you told him to leave.”

“Yes, I did.” But maybe I should ask Alex Thorne to kick him out. I mean, this is his and Catriona’s wedding get-together.

Time to find Grey and give him that hug. I’m so glad I have him as my best friend.