Throuple In Paradise - Faleena Hopkins Page 0,40
whole three weeks with Jack promising Marion not to work the first one, catching up the following two.
I’ve got my much smaller start-up company on auto pilot and can also work remotely. Why didn’t we travel sooner, I kept asking until they finally told me to shut up and enjoy that we are doing it now.
“Why are you frowning?” I ask Mar. “How can you possibly frown in a place like this?”
With a gleaming airport behind her she distractedly says, “I don’t know if I remembered my white dress.”
Sliding aviator sunglasses on, Jack scans the vehicles waiting by the curb and asks her, “Getting married?”
Smokey eyes dart to him. “I’m never getting married. If it’s not broke, leave it the fuck alone.”
Jack grins for a split second before jogging his chin to a black Rolls Royce. “That’s ours. The first one anyway.”
Her black cotton floor-length summer dress floats in the breeze, strands of her long hair lifting up under her hat, too, as she follows his gaze to approve, “Pretty.”
The woman is beautiful, but even more so when she’s pissed, so I dryly ask, “That’s great. But what about the triple-decker bus to carry Madame’s entire wardrobe?”
“Troy, one more word from you about my luggage and I’ll make you pay!”
“Oh?” I smirk. “How?”
“I don’t know yet, but I will.” She pokes my abs, causing me to flex them. “Wanna test me?”
Grabbing her finger I laugh, “Yes.”
“When you least expect it, BAM!” She smacks my chest with a smile in her eyes. Pretty hard, too.
“Can’t wait.” I squint into my leather backpack, poking around. “Where’d I put my shades?”
Red fingernails point at our luggage as Marion asks Jack, “Did you really hire another car for these?”
He kisses her forehead, “I will always give you what you need,” before pulling out his phone and frowning.
She winks at me. “Take notes.”
I cock an eyebrow. “Don’t have to.”
“That’s what you think.”
“I’ve got my own playbook.”
She shrugs and looks around, which gnaws at me. Can’t lie.
Jack swears under his breath, tone uncharacteristically harsh. He doesn’t lose his cool with business, and only a work email would come through right now. Or ever. Jack doesn’t have friends outside of us.
Mar touches his chest, thumb caressing the lines of his pec muscles over his shirt. “What’s wrong?”
“All the workers walked off my Tulsa construction site, demanding raises. The foreman threatened them so they left and retaliated by spreading the word through social media to all workers in the region. We’re at a standstill on the project.” Glancing to me he grumbles, “I knew Harry was a loose cannon but my architect vouched for him. Gotta trust my instincts.”
“You usually do.”
Jack grumbles, “Gotta turn usually into always,” as his thumbs start going to work. A second later he swears again, swipes the email shut, unsent, to make a call instead for the quicker response he’ll achieve. Slamming the phone to his ear, he holds up a thick index finger to our waiting driver and tells his architect, “You said your guy would bring my job to completion without a hitch. Now what?!”
Mar burrows into me. I grab her straw hat before it falls, and hold it in one hand as I wrap my arms around her and kiss her sweet-smelling hair. “My ballerina doesn’t care about business, does she?”
“MmMm. No more work! Just us three having fun!”
“Jack feels the same way.”
She sighs, “I know,” relaxing into me, eyes probably on him just like mine are.
I’m lucky to have such close proximity to one so successful now that I’ve got my own modest company. In comparison to his enormous empire, mine is an ant. But it’s my ant and I wouldn’t have it if weren’t for him.
I ask Marion, “Do you like Greek food?”
She looks up at me, sun making her dark eyes sparkle. “I love it! There’s a Greek cafe near The Alliance that has this salad called Pligouri. It’s really simple but so good. Scallions, bulgar — which is a barley, I think? — and these little green leaves. I don’t know what they’re called. They add feta cheese if you ask for it.”
“And you always ask for it.”
“Not always, but sometimes.” A sneaky smile appears. “I have a weakness for feta.”
Smacking her ass, I smirk, “You could use a little.”
A frown replaces her smile quicker than I can say, oops.
She pulls slightly back. “There is nothing wrong with my body.”
“I didn’t say there was!”
“You just implied I need to eat more. Do you want me more