by Lexi Ryan
“That’s a lot of reasons.”
I swallow. “I have more.” But no matter how many items I add to the list, I’m still afraid it’ll fall short. Because he’s him and I’m . . . I’ve never thought myself weak before, but our night in New York proves I have very little self-control when it comes to this man.
“Do you need more?”
Maybe. Probably. But he probably didn’t need any reason at all, so it doesn’t matter. “So we’re agreed?”
“No sleeping together,” he says, but I swear his gaze drops to my mouth for a beat, and my mind flashes to our night together, his eyes on my mouth, his hand on my thigh beneath the table. Is he thinking about it too?
Lust zaps through me at the memory. I close my eyes, only to be bombarded by a thousand more. His head between my legs. His mischievous grin. The smell of him when he came back to bed and pulled me into his arms.
When I look at him again, his expression has shifted to one of concern. Is he worried that I have feelings for him? Or that maybe I’ve been thinking too much about sleeping with him, and he hasn’t thought about sleeping with me at all?
“You really do look tired. Is there anything you need me to do before the party gets here?”
Oh. That. Work stuff. Not hot, under-the-table, super-naughty, spank-bank stuff. “I’m fine.” I clear my throat and can practically hear screeching tires. I mentally shift gears. Work. “If you want to greet Mr. Yuseki when he arrives, that would be great. I think he trusts me, but he’s a little old school with the woman-in-charge situation.”
“We’ll greet him together,” he says, and some of the tension I’ve been carrying all day melts. Because yes, Brayden takes his business very seriously, and yes, he wants this to go as well as I do, but he trusts me, and he wants Mr. Yuseki—a potentially huge client for repeat business—to understand that. “Be right back.”
He disappears, and I dig in my purse for my lipstick. One look in my handheld mirror, and I see that he’s right. I look like hell. Like a woman who has too much on her plate and is too stubborn to admit it. My boss isn’t the only one who has trouble delegating.
When Brayden returns, he has a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of water in the other. “Caffeinate and hydrate,” he says, setting them on my desk. “Rock this luncheon, and then tonight, after the taproom grand opening, sleep. If you need help finishing packing, I’ll come over.”
“I think you have enough to do without packing my stuff.”
He shrugs. “Trust me, I’ve helped my siblings move enough times that I’m practically a pro.”
I groan. “Why do you have to be so nice?”
His lips twitch like he’s fighting a losing battle with a smile. “Would you rather have an asshole as a boss?”
“At least I know how to deal with assholes. I literally have years of experience.”
He shakes his head slowly. “Drink your coffee, Molly. I’ll come get you when Mr. Yuseki arrives.”
“Here’s to Jackson Brews,” Nic says, hoisting her glass in the air. “And another booming success.”
“Hear, hear!” Teagan says, clinking her beer against Nic’s.
The tasting room is so packed with the grand opening that the girls and I took our beers and snuck over to one of the small party rooms in the banquet center. Originally, I was going to manage the tasting room as well as the banquet center, but when interest poured in from people who wanted to use our facility for their events, it quickly became clear that we’d need someone for each position. Since Levi recently retired his motocross helmet to join the family business, it worked out perfectly. Tonight, that means I get to enjoy my friends and let him make sure everything up front is running smoothly.
Friends. Warmth sweeps over me at the realization. I spent years avoiding Jackson Harbor at all costs—avoiding my past and my family. Some days it feels like this incredible group of friends was my reward for finding the courage to return.
“And to Molly,” Nic says. “I heard today’s luncheon went off without a hitch.”
I smile. “Mr. Yuseki already booked three more luncheons, so I would call it a success.”
“That’s awesome,” Shay says. “Great work.”
“Okay,” Teagan says, glancing around the table. She points to Ava, who hasn’t stopped yawning since we settled into our table in this quiet room. “You’re knocked up and don’t want to stay out past eight most of the time.” She turns to her right to point to Nic. “And your wedding is in two weeks, and you’ll probably be knocked up shortly thereafter.”
Nic shrugs. “I wouldn’t mind, but I’d rather get through school first.”
“So pretty much,” Teagan continues, “it’s going to be me and all you bitches with your fabulous sex lives and adorable babies.”
“Um, hello?” Shay says. “Am I invisible or something?”
“Of course not, but your dissertation gets more of your attention than any hot guy in your bed would.”
Shay shrugs as if to say “fair enough.” She’s Brayden’s only sister, and though I haven’t spent a lot of time with her since moving back home, I’ve always liked her. Even when half our high school was talking shit about me, Shayleigh Jackson was always kind.
I clear my throat and raise my hand. “No fabulous sex life here. I’m single, remember?”
“But you have an adorable little boy, so shut up.”
“You want a baby?” I ask, arching a brow.
Teagan makes a face, her dark hair swinging around her face. “No. I’m just lamenting the fact that my fun, single friends are no longer . . .”
“Fun?” Ava supplies with a frown. “I don’t feel like much fun, to be honest. I’m so tired and bloated. I slept through half my honeymoon. I mean, when we weren’t . . .”
Shay holds up a hand. “We get the idea.” She shudders. “I really need to find friends who aren’t sleeping with my brothers.”
“I think it’s exciting,” Nic says. “So much awesome stuff happening.”
Teagan nods. “I’m happy for everyone. I just don’t want you bitches to forget me when you’re doing your playdates or whatever.”
Nic wraps her arm around Teagan and squeezes her. “We’re not gonna forget you.”
“How are the wedding plans coming?” Teagan asks her.
I clear my throat. “Shouldn’t you ask her official wedding planner that question?”
Nic beams. “I’m so excited. I can’t believe I get to get married in front of the lighthouse. Lilly keeps calling it the Frozen wedding and is trying to convince me to bleach my hair so I’ll look like Elsa.” She shakes her head, love for the little girl all over her face. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep the ceremony short so you don’t literally freeze.”
I smile at Nic—my friend and the first bride to trust me with her reception. “Then we’ll come back here and party. It’s going to be perfect.”
Jake appears in the doorway to the kitchenette, a tray of “The Jackson 5” flights in each hand. “I thought you ladies might be hiding back here.” He steps up to our table and slides the flights into the middle.
“God, I miss beer,” Ava whispers.
Jake winks at her. “Worth it.”
“True.” She blushes as his greedy eyes take her in, as if he hasn’t touched her in a month and they weren’t just caught making out in the kitchen thirty minutes ago.
Jake reluctantly tears his attention off his bride and turns to me. “Any luck on the house hunt?”
I shake my head. “None.”
“What are you going to do?” Ava asks softly.
I’m honestly surprised the news hasn’t already spread. Wildfire moves slowly compared to the Jackson family grapevine. “Brayden thought your idea made sense and offered to let Noah and I stay with him temporarily. I’m taking him up on it. Just until I can find something else. I told Noah this afternoon, and he’s thrilled about it.”
“Good.” Jake smiles at me. “I’m glad to hear it.”
Brayden’s standing in the doorway, his hand on Noah’s shoulder. “Look who’s here.”
“Mama!” Noah shouts, rushing toward me.
Grinning, I turn in my seat, open my arms, and scoop him into my lap the moment he collides with my chest. “How was your day, Mr. Man?” I ask, burying my nose in his hair. He smells like his tear-free shampoo and Play-Doh.
“Ronica took me to the park, and I got to slide through the snow!”
I drop my jaw in an exaggerated show of surprise, even though Veronica ran the snowy park idea by me before she took him. “But it’s so cold out! And it snowed all day! Are you an ice cube?”
He shakes his head. “No, Ronica made me wear a hat.” He folds his arms and scowls. “I hate my hat.”
“I’m glad she did, or you’d be Frosty the Snowman.”
He giggles. “Would not.”
I feel Brayden’s eyes on us and look up. He’s smiling. Really smiling. Warmth rushes through me at the sight of it, and when his eyes lock with mine, everything around me goes quiet and all I can hear is the beating of my own heart.
“I hear you’re moving,” Ava says to Noah, and I could kiss her for the way she makes the word moving sound like the most exciting activity in the world.
Noah bounces on my lap and smiles at his aunt Ava. “We’re going to stay with Rayden for a while! He said I can even stay in his old bedroom on the very top floor!” He turns those beautiful brown eyes to me and wraps a little hand in my hair. “How long are we staying, Mama?”
“I don’t know exactly. Until after Christmas for sure.”
His face lights up, and he turns to Brayden. “We get to spend Christmas with you? You’ll be there when Santa comes?”
The room seems to go still, as if everyone around us is holding their breath.
Brayden’s gaze flicks to mine for a beat before he nods at Noah. “I will.”
“Will you help me open my presents?”
I tickle Noah’s side. “Hey, who said you’re getting presents this year?”
My boy doubles over, his sharp giggles filling the room. “I always get presents, silly.”
The conversation turns to holiday plans. Everyone is smiling and relaxed, but I notice that Shay isn’t smiling. No, Brayden’s sister is watching me like she’s a mama bear and I just stepped too close to her cubs.
Brayden
“You’re so much more badass than me,” Shay says. “I hate running in the snow.”
I tear my eyes off the glowing lights of my Christmas tree to survey my sister, who’s in the kitchen doctoring her coffee. It’s not even eight in the morning, but Shay was waiting in the kitchen when I got back from my run. I let her make coffee while I showered and got dressed. “I like running in the cold.” I shrug. “Clears my head.”
“You lost me at I like running. It’s a necessary evil as far as I’m concerned.”
I arch a brow. “You could work out with Carter and me at CrossFit if you hate running so much. You’d probably love it once you got going.”
She shudders, then pulls her mug against her chest as if it can protect her. “And get callouses on my baby-soft hands? I’ll pass.”
I laugh. I haven’t bothered to ask her why she’s here. I know she’s doing her typical sister thing and showing up to talk when no one else knows anything’s bothering me. Usually, I’m grateful for her eerie perception. Today, I’m not sure I’m up for it.
Taking a seat on the couch beside me, she holds her mug in both hands as she folds her legs under herself, and we sip our coffee for a while, enjoying the comfortable silence of the crackling fire and an otherwise empty house.
“Are you ready to give up this quiet?” she finally asks. When I arch a brow in question, she says, “The house won’t be this peaceful with a four-year-old living here.”
I shake my head. “I don’t mind. Noah’s a pretty awesome kid.”
My sister tips her head to the side as she studies me. “Hmm.”
“Stop that,” I growl.
“Stop what?”
“Stop trying to read me. You came over here for a reason. If you have a question, ask it.”
“Really? You’re inviting me to ask personal questions?”
“Aren’t you going to ask them either way? Aren’t you here for a recreational dig into my psyche, followed by a thinly veiled lecture on what you think I should do?” I wave toward myself. “Bring it.”
“Okay, fine. Are you sure about this? I know having Molly stay here makes sense on paper, but if you have feelings for her—”
“I never said I have feelings for her.”
“You didn’t have to. I see the way you look at her.”
I grunt. “You see what you want to see.”
She rocks to the side and bumps her shoulder against mine. “Come on, Brayden, you practically created a whole new business just so you’d have an excuse to bring her back to Jackson Harbor.”
I open my mouth to object but close it again. I always planned to open the tasting room, but the banquet facility idea was born of a New York City conversation with Molly. One of our stops that day was to an event center, and she admitted how much she enjoyed the event-planning side of her not-for-profit work. She told me then that if I ever opened an event center, she wanted first dibs on managing it. She was joking—last spring, her stepfather was still alive and well, and that meant she had no intention of ever returning to Jackson Harbor—but I never forgot about it.
The tasting room morphed into something more because it was a good business decision, but maybe it was convenient that a good business decision also meant getting Molly closer. I won’t deny I wanted that, even if she drew the line in the sand and made it clear that we’d never be more than boss and employee. I knew how much she struggled as a single mom with no family around, and I liked the idea of keeping an eye on her and being able to help when she needed it.
Shay’s grinning at me. “You even get this dopey look on your face when you think about her.”
“You’re the only person in the world who thinks I’m easy to read,” I mutter. And thank God. If everyone else could read my emotions as easily as Shay does, I’d feel like I was walking around cut open all the time.
“If only I could get a read on her,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I can’t decide if she’s just stuck between a rock and a hard place, or if she likes the idea of being closer to you on some level.”
“Trust me. Her decision to move in has nothing to do with what happened between us.”
“And what did happen? You never talk about it.”
“I told you, we had a few drinks and . . . we connected, I guess. It was just one night.” A mistake. Hell, nothing about it felt like a mistake. “No big deal.”
Shay pulls her phone out of her pocket and plays around on the screen.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m adding up all the times you slept with a woman you didn’t care about.”
I blow out an exasperated breath. “Shut it.”
“This is a tough one.” She purses her lips and wrinkles her brow, the picture of thoughtfulness. “What’s none plus never?”
“Are you really so well versed in my sex life, little sister?”
“I’m well versed in you.” She gives me a pointed look that seems to say, Tell me I’m wrong. But I can’t. I’m not a one-night stand kind of guy. I’ve just never seen the appeal. When I took Molly back to my room, I thought it was the beginning of something.
I was an idiot.
I swallow. “It makes sense to let her stay here. I have plenty of room.” The truth is that I don’t know how Molly really feels about this mess, but of the two options Shay presented for Molly’s move, I’d guess rock and a hard place.
“It’s not going to be weird?”
“It’s a big house.”
Shay takes a long pull from her coffee before shaking her head. “You’re a stubborn ass.”
>
“Thanks.”
“And I’m afraid you’re a stubborn ass who’s going to end up hurt.”
I have to laugh at that. Molly’s never given me a reason to think we could have a relationship—quite the opposite, actually—so I’m not sure why Shay thinks my heart’s at risk now. “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. You’ll just be fine and never go after what you really want.”
I cock my head. “I’ve lost track—are you trying to protect me from Molly or set me up with her?”
She frowns and mutters, “I haven’t decided yet.”
Rising from the couch, I pinch my sister’s nose and shake my head. “I’m a grown boy, sis. Trust me to handle my life by myself.”
Molly
“I’m already so tired,” Bella says, whimpering dramatically as she collapses onto a breakroom couch.
Today is our first Saturday, and we arrived at five a.m. to prepare for a breakfast for the local Kiwanis club. My staff and I ate an early lunch and are wrapping up our break before heading up to start on the second party of the day—an eighty-person luncheon for Jackson Harbor Hospital. We’ll finish cleanup from that just in time to go to tonight’s Jackson Brews employee Christmas party.
“You’ll be fine,” I tell Bella, but I smile, because she did bust her ass this morning. She’s earned a little whine. “Just a few more hours, and then we get the night off.”
“Par-tay!” Austin says, grinning at me.
“My dad won’t let me go to the Christmas party,” Bella says. “He said someone my age has no business spending a Saturday night in a bar.”
I frown. I’ll have to talk to Brayden about that. Every year, they shut down the Jackson Brews bar for the employee Christmas party, but this is the first year we’ve had underage employees. Maybe next year we should do the party in one of the banquet rooms instead.
