Chapter One
Dylan Sutton cringed inwardly when his brother said, “So then I asked, ‘Why isn’t saying a woman has a vagina of steel a thing?’” He understood how the long transatlantic flight was bringing out the clown in Connor, but also that the humor of the story would be lost on some of the passengers on Clay Landon’s private jet.
A quick glance to the side confirmed that one in particular was shaking her beautiful head while pretending to be reading on her tablet. When she looked up, he looked away. If he could have stopped the train wreck that was underway, he would have, but Clay was already laughing and that was all the encouragement Connor needed.
Connor continued, “And Dylan said it would be a puss—” He stopped and looked around before deciding to censor his language. “Anyway, his theory is that steel didn’t sound fuckable.”
Dylan didn’t need to wonder who loudly expelled a breath in disgust. It wasn’t his brother’s fiancée. She was rolling her eyes, but smiling. It wasn’t Claire, the woman who had invested a year into training both Connor and Dylan how to behave in public. She didn’t appear to have heard it. Her prolonged level of distraction was concerning to Dylan, but his guess was it was due to her husband, Ian Barrington, flying over to meet them on his own. Whatever he and Bradford were into, the general consensus was that it was better to not know. They both worked for the government in a capacity no one discussed. Enough said.
Dylan and Connor had grown up in a small town in Upstate New York, raised by a hardworking father who had brought them into their family’s construction company as soon as they could hold a hammer. They were driving large machinery while still stretching to reach the pedals and fixing them long before they could legally operate them. Theirs had been a reasonably normal childhood until their sister, Viviana, had married into one of the richest families in the United States and everyone’s life had changed.
Trying to fit in had been tricky at first. It had taken a blunt reality check from Clay to smooth the bumpy transition out. He had taken Dylan and Connor aside and explained to them that they drank too much, laughed too loud, and broke too many social rules. If they didn’t want to be a constant embarrassment to their sister as well as the butt of everyone’s jokes, they would need to make some changes.
Although it hadn’t been easy to hear, Clay had been right. Some might have taken such harsh words as an attack, but that hadn’t been his intention. He’d followed up the talk not only with a suggestion that the brothers work with Claire but also an introduction to movie producers.
Without Clay’s intervention, the lead roles in Danger Doubled would never have been offered to Dylan and Connor. The brothers wouldn’t have known what it was like to be catapulted into stardom from the popularity of that movie and Dylan wouldn’t have become painfully aware of how inappropriate some private conversations could sound when shared publicly.
He and Connor might not be Barringtons, but they’d become part of the family and there was a responsibility that came with that. If the Barringtons, as well as Clay, were not so welcoming and supportive, Dylan might have resented the changes he’d made for them. He didn’t; they’d freed him. Claire had guided them through everything from how to eat at a formal event to the art of saying less rather than more. He was now not only welcomed, but invited to elite gatherings around the globe and could mingle seamlessly—unless his brother was there.
Connor’s fiancée, Angelina, smacked her hand on Connor’s thigh. “Stop, you’re embarrassing Dylan.”
Connor shook his head. “Impossible.” He looked down at her, his smile widening. “And even if I am, he deserves it. Have you forgotten the motivational boxers he sent me? It took you to explain to me that they were innuendos.”
“Of course they were,” Aly muttered in a low voice.
Unable to keep the comment to himself, Dylan responded, “Keep reading that romance of yours, no one expects you to have a sense of humor.”
She lowered her tablet and shot Dylan a glare. “For your information, I’m reading a study in the Blandet Medical Journal regarding the role of microbiome in recurrent pregnancy loss.”
Dammit. No man could have a comeback for that without sounding like an ass. Dylan sat back, folded his arms over his chest, and did what he’d been taught to do—he kept his mouth shut.
As if sensing the sudden tension, Clay’s wife clapped her hands together and said, “Two hours until we land. I absolutely love Iceland. It’ll be exciting to show you around. And although I was lucky enough to visit the set of Danger Doubled, I’m excited to see Dylan in action.” Her smile was genuine and coaxing. “Dylan, do you really do all of your own stunts?”
Dylan turned his attention to Lexi with relief. “Most of them. There are some that require skills I don’t yet have, but I’m always learning.”
“Angelina, Connor has already started filming his next project as well, hasn’t he?” Lexi asked.
“Yes, the beginning is set in England, but the rest of it will film in Vermont so we won’t have to be apart as much.” She rested her head on Connor’s shoulder. “I’ve missed him.”
Connor kissed the top of her head. “I missed you too. This trip couldn’t have come at a better time. I have a break between filming and we get to see Dylan. I hope the house has a gym. My producer said I don’t have to remain as buff as I am, but I can’t let Dylan out-muscle me.”
“As if I’d ever rent a house without a gym.” A smile pulled at Dylan’s lips. “Not my fault you chose the role of a doctor last time and now one as a lovesick veterinarian.” He flexed his ample bicep for humor. “You don’t need these to cure a kitten, but I’m out there blowing up shit and saving the world so I have to look the part.”
He told himself not to, but he glanced over to see Aly’s reaction. She didn’t lift her eyes from her tablet. He shrugged and lowered his arm. Although it was a shame, it might be time for Dylan to concede that his future sister-in-law’s friends would never like him. He frowned. Not all of them. Just one. “Hey, has anyone heard from Joanna and Bradford? Are they meeting us at the lodge?”
Clay answered, “That’s the understanding. Ian said they are in the air already.”
Claire turned away from the window. “Ian will meet us at the house as well. He texted that he’s not far behind us.”
She looked worried enough that Dylan moved over to sit in the empty seat beside her. Rather than ask about Ian, he chose a topic he hoped would distract her from her concerns. “Is this your first trip to Iceland?”
After a pause, she smiled. “It is. Thank you for inviting us.”
Dylan joked, “It feels odd accepting any gratitude for this trip, considering we’re flying over in Clay’s jet and after I finish reshooting a few scenes we’re moving on to the private island Clay arranged.”
Clay waved a hand in dismissal of Dylan’s words. “Why have a jet if not to use it? And the mainland lodge you chose sounds charming. I only had to make a few tiny enhancements to it.”
Lexi interjected, “Clay, I was in charge of setting everything up. Don’t you trust Dylan and me?”