Frisk Me

Ava’s stomach twisted with an unfamiliar sensation. Guilt.

Ambition was the name of the game in her career, but never before had she been so conscious that she might be coming very, very close to crossing a line. If the anger on his face was any indication, she may have already crossed it.

But beneath the guilt there was also confusion. She’d thought—hoped—that they’d gotten past this, but sometimes it felt like they’d never gone anywhere at all. That he hadn’t bought her flowers on her birthday.

She searched for words. “I—”

He turned away, swearing. “Sorry.” The apology was gruff. “I shouldn’t throw your family issues in your face like that.”

But he shouldn’t be the one apologizing, and they both knew it. “Luc—”

He turned around quickly, his gaze sharp, and Ava realized he was responding to her use of his first name. She’d used it before. But this time felt different.

Because this time, she was thinking about him as a person instead of the story subject that could make or break her career.

She moved closer, and taking a risk, put her hand on his arm. “I’m not here to sell you out. Or your family.”

His eyes flitted briefly to her fingers against his arm, and she swore she wasn’t imagining that the air around them grew hot, even in the cool spring breeze.

A loud horn noise made her jump, and Luc took a quick step back, killing the moment. “Ferry’s here,” he said gruffly. “And it looks like Anthony’s on the same boat as us.”

She followed his gaze to the tall, gorgeous guy who watched them approach with a scowl. Good looks definitely ran in the family. So did the go-fuck-yourself scowl.

“Anthony can be irritable; try not to piss him off,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Sure, I’ll just tape my mouth shut,” she snapped, all warm feelings of before evaporating.

For a second, he looked hopeful. “That’s an option?”

She gave him a withering look before pasting a smile on her face for Luc’s older brother. Up close, the family resemblance was startling. Anthony’s eyes were brown instead of Luc’s deep blue, and he was taller by a couple of inches. But there was the same strong jawline, the same broad shoulders and sculpted torso.

Anthony Moretti was gorgeous.

“You’re staring,” Luc whispered in her ear.

Ava jumped, holding out a hand to Anthony.

He glanced down at it in amusement before giving his brother a look she couldn’t decipher. Only then did he shake her hand. “You’re the Sims woman.”

Luc rolled his eyes. “Nice, bro.”

Anthony shrugged, looking her over. “You know, I was trying to figure out how the hell you finagled an invitation to family dinner, but I think I get it now.”

The look Luc gave his brother was lethal. “Seriously.”

Ava smiled. “It’s all right. I came prepared. I’ve seen you in action. It makes sense that your brothers share your same…charm.”

Anthony’s eyebrows crept up. “Luca, do my ears deceive me? Is there actually a woman alive who hasn’t fallen all over herself in love with you?”

“Trust me,” Ava said before Luc could respond. “That is definitely not the case.”

Anthony smiled then, slow and sexy. And practiced, if Ava was reading it right. He offered her his arm. “Well then, Ms. Sims. Come. Walk with me. I think I like you already.”

“That makes one of us,” Luc muttered from behind them.

But when Ava glanced over her shoulder at Luc, he didn’t look as irritated as his words implied.

Instead he looked thoughtful.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN



It was a weird thing, watching your sexy enemy join forces with the people most dear to you.

Ava had all but charmed the pants off Anthony on the ferry ride over to Staten Island. Anthony, whose condescending, big-brother routine practically seeped out of his pores. Anthony, whose volatile temper and legendary glare had sent more than a handful of rookies to therapy.

Anthony who distrusted all women, everywhere.

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