A Fairbanks Affair (An Odds-Are-Good Standalone Romance, #3)

by Katy Regnery

  “Can you do that?”

  I nod. “Check the contract. I have right of first refusal if either of you ever want to sell.”

  Baz takes this in for a second, then says, “I talked to Cez.”

  I take a deep breath, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah. And?”

  “He said you didn’t hang up on him.”

  “We didn’t talk long either.”

  “It’s progress, Trev.”

  “Don’t read too much into it, Baz.”

  “And Marlena said she saw you at the hospital.”

  “She did.”

  “She said you seemed pretty into the girl you brought in.”

  “That’s almost accurate. I’m very into her.”

  “How’s her foot?”

  “Still broken.”

  “She’s staying at your place? Until she’s better?”

  I can’t help smiling. I feel like a sap, but fuck it, I can’t help it. “Yep.”

  “Damn, bro! You like this girl.”

  “Yeah, I do. I like her a lot.”

  “I’m glad, Trev. I’m so fucking glad.” He pauses for a second, his smiling fading. “What about Cez? You think...maybe, now that you’ve met someone else—”

  “I don’t know how to trust him, Baz.” I pause for a second. “Something you said to me a few weeks ago has stuck with me, though—that maybe Marlena and I weren’t in the healthiest relationship, and I see it now. I do. We weren’t a great match. Not perfect, anyway. But, Baz, he could have come to me. He could’ve said something.”

  “What could he have said? ‘I’m in love with your fiancée’? ‘I want to be with her’? ‘Get out of the way’?”

  “Better than fucking her on the night before my wedding,” I say. “What exactly was the plan? For Marlena to go through with it and marry me?”

  “No,” says Baz. “They were going to talk to you after the rehearsal dinner. That’s why Marlena went to his room—so they could discuss how best to approach you. And then one thing...”

  “Led to another.”

  “I guess.”

  “But they’d been sleeping together for a while.”

  Baz inclines his head. “I think so, yes.”

  “That sucks, Baz.”

  “I agree. It does.”

  But he looks so fucking sad, and I feel so fucking happy, I have to give him some hope.

  “Give it time,” I tell my little brother. “Maybe...at some point...when enough time’s gone by, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

  He immediately brightens. “I hope so. In the meantime, I’d love to meet...”

  “Faye.”

  “Yes. Faye. Hey! Are you going to Mom’s Twelfth Night party this weekend?”

  Every year, my mother throws a Twelfth Night party twelve days after Christmas. It’s an English tradition that she brought across the pond with her and mostly includes the consumption of wassail, which is a strong alcoholic punch, and a potluck of desserts on a large buffet table, as well as the singing Christmas carols. It’s become quite a popular tradition with my parents’ friends and alleviates a bit of the Christmas-is-over letdown.

  “I don’t know,” I say, “but probably not. Faye’s still in a lot pain. Then again, her sister’s coming to town, so—”

  “Her sister, huh? Is she pretty?”

  “Yeah. If Faye’s any indication, then she’ll be gorgeous. But she’s young. Only twenty.”

  “That’s legal.” Baz raises his eyebrows. “How about I swing by on Saturday night. If the sister wants to come with me, I’ll take her to the party, and either way, I’ll get a chance to meet Faye.”

  “Promise you won’t make a move on her?”

  “Faye or the sister?” he asks, standing up from his seat and pushing the guest chair back under my desk.

  “Faye,” I say, adding a little steel to my voice.

  “I’m not Cez,” he declares, then half-smiles, half-cringes. “Too soon?”

  “Way too soon,” I tell him, but wonder of wonders, I actually find myself smiling as my little brother leaves my office.

  ***

  Faye

  Harry arrived in Fairbanks on Thursday night, and yesterday, we built a nest on the couch in the living room and spent the day chilling out and catching up.

  She told me all about Vail, and I was proud of her when she told me that she and Austin remain friends.

  I told her all about Trevor—excluding the part about answering a personal ad, which, Trevor and I decided, would be our secret. We ended the day with Chinese takeout that Trevor picked up for us at the Golden Buddha, and Harry fell asleep with her head on my shoulder as we watched a Christmas movie on the Hallmark Channel.

  Today, Saturday, we’ve spent some time driving around Fairbanks, sightseeing with Trevor—we showed her the distillery and tasting room, in addition to visiting a reindeer farm, where Harry could meet and pet some reindeer and take a short hike with them.

  Her cheeks are bright red from the cold, but she’s beaming from ear to ear when she returns to the car.

  “Faye! When you’re feeling better, we have to go back! They had little baby reindeer! So darling!”

  I’ve never enjoyed Harry quite as much I have during this visit.

  It’s like I’ve finally given myself permission to get to know her, to love her not just as a sibling or dependent but as an adult and friend. No credit to me, but she’s such a smart, positive, fun-loving person—I think anybody who meets her must fall a little bit in love with her. And with thick, chestnut-colored hair she wears long and straight; wide, kind brown eyes; and a trim size-six figure, it’s no wonder Harry’s had her share of conquests: she’s beautiful.

  “What’s next?” she asks, buckling herself into the back seat.

  “How do you feel about going to a party tonight?” asks Trevor as he pulls out of the reindeer farm parking lot.

  “Awesome! I love parties!”

  I shift in my seat a little to face her in the back seat. “Trevor’s brother, Baz, is coming over for preparty drinks. He can take you if you want to go.”

  Her smile dims a touch. “Wait. Aren’t you two going?”

  “I’m sorry, Harry,” I say gently. “But I’ve been up on this foot more yesterday and today than I’ve been since I broke it. I need to relax tonight.”

  Honestly, I am tired, but I may have been up for the party if I could have sat on the couch at Trevor’s parent’s house once I was there. The thing is, Trevor specifically said he didn’t want to go. He’s still not ready to see Cecil, and while I hope he finds space in his heart to forgive his brother at some point, I also understand that he needs more time.

  “Gotcha,” says Harry with a sigh. “But I’m not here for very long. Maybe I should stay home with you, Faye.”

  “You don’t have to,” I tell her. “I’ll probably just go to bed early.”

  This is partially true. Also true? With Harry in town and staying in the guest room across the hall from us, Trevor and I haven’t had much privacy. I’m sort of longing to have some alone time with him tonight. So yes. I may go to bed early, but he’ll be coming with me.

  “Are you sure? I mean...I hate to leave you, but I love a party.”

  “Absolutely positive,” I tell her. “Baz can take you to Starling Farms for the festivities and bring you home whenever you’re ready, right?”

  I look at Trevor, who knows exactly what I’m doing. He winks at me with twinkling eyes before speaking up: “Right. Exactly. And take your time, Harry. No need to rush home. My mother makes a killer wassail.”

  ***

  While Harry’s upstairs getting ready for the annual Starling Twelfth Night party, Trevor and I sit side by side on the couch in front of the fireplace, my head on his shoulder and our hands laced together. There’s an excellent bottle of merlot in front of us with two half-drunk glasses resting on the coffee table.

  I’m tired after driving all over Fairbanks today, as evidenced by a loud yaw
n that takes me by surprise.

  “Sorry!” I say.

  Trevor chuckles beside me. “I guess you weren’t kidding about going to bed early, huh, sweetheart?”

  I grin at him, feeling warm and sleepy. “I guess I wasn’t.”

  “I’ll carry you upstairs as soon as Harry’s off.”

  “Or maybe...”

  “Maybe what?” he asks.

  “You said you have a hot tub downstairs, right?”

  “Mm-hm. You want to go tubbing?”

  “It would be so nice to dunk these weary muscles in hot water,” I say. “Would it be too much trouble?”

  “Umm. To have my girlfriend all to myself in a hot tub? No. Not trouble. I’ll turn it on when Baz gets here so it’s nice and warm for us.”

  I gasp when he says this for one simple reason: I have never been anyone’s girlfriend before this moment, and it’s so sweet and so fun to hear him say the words, it takes my breath away.

  “What?” he asks, scanning my face. “What happened?”

  “You called me your girlfriend,” I say softly, blinking at him.

  He grins. “Oh. Yeah. I did. Is that okay?”

  I start nodding, and then my eyes fill with tears—when did I become so emotional?—and I’m giggling and nodding and trying not to cry when he cups my face and touches his lips to mine. He kisses me thoroughly, passionately, his tongue slipping between my lips to find mine in an action so familiar to me now, I savor the taste and texture of him, while the rest of my body aches for the same kind of intimacy. He wants me to wait a few more days until we have sex, but I’m frustrated with the waiting. If I am not already in love with him, I am surely on the verge. And though I don’t know what the future holds, each day I spend with Trevor makes me long for my future to be entwined irrevocably with his. That’s all I know. But it’s enough—more than enough—for me to know I want to give myself to him physically. I have no reservations left. None. It’s just a matter of finding the right time now.

  “Oh, my God, you guys! Get a room!”

  I yank back from Trevor to face my sister, and I immediately feel my cheeks go up in flames. I’ve never been caught “making out” with someone before, and to be caught by my little sister feels beyond embarrassing.

  “Faye!” she exclaims, sitting on the back of the couch. “I’m just kidding. Oh, my God, lighten up.”

  She chucks Trevor lightly on the cheek. “Be nice to my sister, now.”

  “Don’t worry, Little Bit,” he says. “I like her way too much to be mean.”

  He’s been calling Harry “Little Bit” all weekend, and I know she likes it because she wrinkles her nose and grins whenever he says it.

  The doorbell rings from downstairs, and Trevor sits up.

  “Ah! That’s Baz.” He kisses my nose. “I’ll be right back!”

  He slides off the couch, leaving me and Harry alone. She circles the couch, standing between the coffee table and the mantle. She gestures to the wineglasses. “Which is yours?”

  “The one on the left.”

  She picks it up and takes a sip, and I stare at her—at my beautiful sister, dressed in jeans, a white turtleneck, and a Cornell sweat shirt—backlit by the fire.

  I will always have my regrets—about not being there for her, about not showing her how much I have loved her all these years, about not sharing our lives the way sisters can and should for so long—but right this minute, I’m so grateful for our new beginning, all I feel is...love. Heaping, brimming spoonfuls of love.

  “I love you, Harry,” I say.

  She tilts her head to the side. “I love you too.”

  “Have we ever said that to each other?” I ask. “In person?”

  “No.”

  I swallow over the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she says, taking another sip of wine before putting the glass back on the table. “You were a kid when they died. Only two years older than I am now. I can’t imagine finishing my MBA, taking over the company, dealing with Mama and Daddy’s estate, and becoming the guardian of a little sister.” She sniffles softly. “You did great, Faye.”

  “I did...okay,” I say. “Not great. From now on, I’m going to do great.”

  She leans down and kisses my cheek. “You already are.”

  We hear footsteps coming up from the lower level of the house, and both of us look toward the kitchen landing, where Trevor and a slightly younger, slightly shorter version of Trevor appear. Baz. The family resemblance is uncanny.

  “Merlot good for you?” Trevor asks his brother, stopping in the kitchen for two more wineglasses.

  “Uh...y-yeah. Great. What...ever.”

  Baz—who has bright-blue eyes, the same thick dark hair as Trevor, and a close-cropped black beard—is standing beside the dining table, utterly undone, looking over my head with struck-dumb enchantment at...Harry. I turn my neck slowly to glance up at my sister, whose lips are parted with a similar small smile. Two soft-pink spots appear on her cheeks, and she bites down on her bottom lip for a second before letting it go.

  “Hi,” she says, giving a little wave. “I’m Harry—um, Harriet...Findley.”

  “Basil Starling,” he answers, still staring at her as though in a trance.

  I catch Trevor’s face over his brother’s shoulder, and he raises an eyebrow. What’s going on here?

  I give him a little shrug. I have no idea.

  “Um,” says Trevor, putting an arm around his brother’s shoulder and leading him over to the sitting area. “Baz, this is my girlfriend, Faye. Faye, this is my brother Baz.”

  For the first time, Baz seems to notice me sitting on the couch, lowers his gaze, and offers me his hand.

  “Hey...Hey, Faye.” He clears his throat, flicking a glance back up at Harry before focusing on me. “Trev is...crazy about you. I’m glad to, you know, meet you.”

  “Thanks,” I say, grinning at him. “I’m crazy about your brother too.”

  “That’s good. That’s...really good,” says Baz, looking up at Harry again. He slides his hand away from me and offers it to my sister. “I’m Baz.”

  I watch Harry’s eyes sparkle and shine as she takes Baz’s hand in hers. “Harry.”

  “You’re...stunning, Harry.”

  She smiles at him, biting that lower lip again. Oh, Harry...you like him. “Thank you.”

  Trevor picks up the bottle of merlot and pours each of them a glass of wine, then hands me mine.

  “To the new year,” he says, staring into my eyes as he makes the toast. “In it, may all of our dreams come true!”

  “Here, here,” says Harry, grinning at Baz as she tilts her glass back and sips.

  Trevor resumes his seat next to me, while Harry takes the chair to my right and Baz takes a seat across from her, to Trevor’s left.

  “So, Harry,” says Baz, “how long are you visiting?”

  “Only until Monday,” she says. “I leave for Seattle early on Monday morning.”

  “I see,” he says, his brows creasing a lot like his brother’s as he nods. He looks at me. “But you’ll be around for a while longer, Faye?”

  “Yes,” I say, gesturing to the boot. “Until mid-February.”

  “At least,” mumbles Trevor.

  I look over at him, wondering what he means.

  “Did you tell Harry about the party?” asks Baz.

  “We did,” says Trevor, glancing at my sister. “What did you decide, Little Bit?”

  “I thought I’d go,” she says, turning to me, “if you’re sure you’re okay without me?”

  I grin at her. “We’ll manage somehow.”

  “Best not drink anymore for now, then, if I’m driving you.” Baz places his glass down on the table. “So...want to get going?”

  Harry giggles. “Sure.”

  I look back and forth between them and smile, because I don’t know what I’m witnessing here, but it certainly feels like the beginning of something.

  Harry
leans down to kiss me on the cheek and whispers, “Don’t wait up,” all saucy, winking at me before she grabs her jacket and purse off a dining room chair. I watch with approval as Baz gently takes the jacket from her and holds it open so she can slip into it.

  “Have fun, you two!” calls Trevor from the couch.

  “Thanks!” they call from the stairs leading down to the basement.

  Once I hear the lower level door slam shut, I turn to Trevor. “Are you playing matchmaker?”

  “Who? Me?”

  “So innocent,” I say, giving him a look. “Be honest.”

  “Honestly,” he says, “no. Though if I was, your sister couldn’t be in safer hands. Baz moves at the speed of...molasses. In Alaska. In January.” He stands up. “Ready to go hot-tubbing?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, looping my arms around his neck as he lifts me. “Just for clarification...what does that mean? To move at the speed of molasses?”

  He adjusts me in his arms, and I lay my head against his shoulder as he walks toward the stairs to the lower level.

  “Hmm. Well, before tonight, mind you, because I think we just watched my brother fall head over heels for your sister, he had a crush on our marketing advisor, Penny. Except we’ve been working with Penny for over three years, and Baz has yet to ask her out.”

  “Ah. Okay. So you’re being literal.”

  “Uh-huh,” he says, getting to the bottom of the stairs and turning right toward the TV and game room. “He dated this girl in high school, Elena, who he was crazy about. Everyone thought they’d end up married.”

  “What happened?”

  “She went to college in Anchorage, met someone new, got married down there, and hasn’t really been back since.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Yeah. I mean, Baz is twenty-five, and I still don’t think he’s over it.”

  “She was his one and only?” I ask as he sets me down carefully on a chair beside the hot tub and starts taking off the cover to reveal tendrils of steam rising from the roiling water.

  “She was. And I mean, I’ve noticed he lights up when Penny’s around, so I thought he might ask her out sometime, but Baz is quiet, you know? Thoughtful. Introspective. He’s strong, but he’s a lover, not a fighter.”

  I reach down and unbuckle my boot.

  Trevor looks over at me. “Do you want the door open?”