by Grace Conley
She met his gaze. His voice was light and there was teasing in his golden hazel eyes. She was painfully aware of her inappropriate attraction to her best friend’s big brother. He had teased her a lot growing up, but it rarely ever crossed the line into sexual innuendo.
Correction. Her private thoughts crossed the line. His teasing never, ever crossed the line.
“Monopoly,” she said too brightly, sidestepping him and examining the room. “Scrabble. Poker?”
“Only if it’s strip poker, sunshine.”
Wow. The line just got crossed.
She felt his breath move down her temple and his hand brushed her lower back as he moved past her and headed for the kitchen, pulling out his cell phone.
The cabin was quiet for a moment except for the rain, as Ethan texted Jake.
“I’m telling him to cease and desist, that the road to the cabin is blocked, and that he’d better come up with a Plan B to propose to Isabella and then get the hell up here to help us out. But his first priority is to stop Isabella from coming up here.”
Ava’s index fingers flew as she texted her mom at the same time.
“Okay, I’m telling my mom that we’re still setting things up and everything is fine. In case we might find a way off the hillside in the next couple hours. She hasn’t been feeling really great lately, I don’t want to stress her out. Okay. Right, okay. Sounds like she’s texting Izzy, too, and Izzy is stuck at her office. So we’re safe there. It’s just you and me up here.”
Ethan went perfectly still, and she noticed an almost predatory gleam in his eyes as she glanced at him.
She looked back down, noticing how his chest rose and fell as he breathed in and out.
“No games then?” she looked back up at him in challenge, canting her head at the burnished wood bookshelf, which was filled with books…and nothing else.
“What? I just mentioned a perfectly good game,” he smiled, clearly aware he was flirting. “Nah, we’re a family of readers, but you know that. Dad bought this place as a retreat for us, for the family to come to for some peace and quiet.”
He paused, looked around as if he were considering. “There’s some great stuff to read – he hauled some of Mom’s mystery books up here, a stack of his Westerns, and newer stuff for Karma, Stephen King and J.D. Robb and the like.”
“Good. We’ll have plenty to read tonight. But the idea of peace and quiet doesn’t seem to fit you Fletchers.”
“It doesn’t, does it? Well, at least, it doesn’t fit Jake or Karma. It’s starting to fit me. But Jake is – Jake. And Karma’s all over the place, working to make the switch from the coffee stand at the Farmer’s Market to a brick-and-mortar place.”
“I know, I’ve been helping her scout locations.”
“Of course you have. Dad mentioned. You have a great eye for things, it makes sense that she would ask you.”
Ava paused as his unexpected compliment put butterflies in her stomach. And butterflies elsewhere, too – it felt as if a thousand tiny butterfly wings brushed her skin every time they inadvertently bumped into one another while rushing to set up the romantic engagement tableau for Jake and Isabella just a few minutes earlier. She swallowed. He’d touched her today probably more than he ever had in all the years she’d known him.
“What about you?” she asked. “You said peace and quiet is starting to fit you?”
A shadow passed through his hazel eyes.
“I’ve actually come up here a few times on my own, on my days off. It’s good to get away from San Francisco sometimes, to know Dad and Karma are close by down the mountain if I needed company, but to get some time on my own to think. Of course, Dad had all of us come stay when he bought the place last year. It’s kind of a dream of his, to get everyone together more.”
Ava nodded her head in understanding. As Karma’s best friend, she’d been there when her friend lost her mom to Stage 4 breast cancer. The Fletchers all put their heads down to work after that, drowning their mourning by avidly pursuing their careers, dad and kids alike.
It went on that way for a couple of years, until Joe Fletcher had a mild heart attack. That wake-up call prompted him to buy the cabin, and start railing at his kids to spend more time with him.
The Maggiano’s were a tight-knit clan, and it hurt Ava to think of how comparatively separate Ethan, Jake, and Karma were. And what it might be like to be without her mother, who Ava was incredibly close to. Her mother, who kept talking about how she wasn’t feeling well lately. Ava made a mental note to nudge Mom to go in for a check-up.
Ethan shrugged and raised a dark eyebrow. “Jake came up to the cabin last year when Dad had us, brought your sister with him. I guess that’s why he wanted to pop the question here.”
“That makes sense. It’d be a very romantic spot, if Stormageddon wasn’t going on outside this weekend.”
He laughed. “You don’t think it’s romantic, to get caught with a man in a mountain cabin in a rainstorm?”
“With you? So that means we’re really stuck up here?” she smiled and put a hand on her hip, trying to keep things light.
“With me. And yes, until I hear back from Jake that he’s coming to help me dig out, we’re really stuck.”
Ethan gave her a smoldering glance, then seemed to back off, to reconsider.
“Here, come sit up at the counter. We shouldn’t waste the food,” he gestured, glancing at the card table and folding chairs that she’d made beautiful for the occasion. The table was shabby chic, set with a pretty tablecloth that she’d fashioned of a bolt of pink sari fabric, chunky candles, and the bouquet of tulips in a green glass container. “I don’t want to mess your pretty table up, in case they get up here in the morning and he wants to ask her over breakfast. I like to cook with girls close to me, anyway.”
“Flirt.”
He laughed, “Here, you get some work to do, too. Take your family’s area of expertise,” Ethan handed Ava a corkscrew and two glasses. She handily opened the bottle and poured two glasses of Maggiano Vineyards Pinot Noir with a flourish.
“I’m in practice – been helping Dad with the Tasting Room part time since I’ve been home. Cheers!” said Ava, clinking the glasses together and sliding one across the counter to him with a smile as she slid back onto the padded leather barstool. She took a moment as always to breathe in her family’s signature wine, savoring the aromas of berry and currant, with subtle floral notes.
Roses, she thought. Perfect for this holiday that isn’t a holiday.
“I think you’ll find this is a great match for your family’s wine,” he said casually, plating a deviled egg for each of them.
“Now, what is this?” she asked, delighted. “Valentine’s Day deviled eggs? How did you do that?”
Ethan smirked a little. “I had to,” he admitted.
“You take a batch of hard-cooked eggs and pickle them in some beet juice and vinegar, just for a few hours. Then when you slice them, they have these pink edges and a little tang to them.”
“I like it,” said Ava. “Very pretty, they’re colorful.”
“I’m glad you appreciate it,” he said. “And I figured the happy couple would – well. Anyway, you give it a try. It’s an amuse bouche, a small bite to whet your appetite for the rest of the dinner. There’ll be a kick to it – the deviled part has honey, bacon, and a little sriracha to spice it up. Have a bite.”
Instead of passing her the plate, Ethan took an egg in hand and fed it to her from across the counter.
Ava took the proffered bite, and let the sweet-spicy bacon and egg goodness roll over her tongue.
“That is amazing. I want more.” She took a sip of her Pinot Noir, which she realized did pair perfectly with the novel treat.
“Sorry, you get just this one egg. But here’s another bite.” He fed her the rest of the egg, licking a bit of the yellow part that got smudged on his finger.
“Right, amuse bouche is supposed to just get you ready for the rest of the evening.�
�� She wondered suddenly if Ethan was talking about more than fantastically amazing devilled eggs, and took a larger gulp of her wine.
Ethan smiled, and the edges of his eyes crinkled. Ava picked up two – no three colors in his hazel eyes. They were brown and green, with flecks of gold. She wanted to paint them.
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Ethan hands flew, combining salad greens with some chilled seared vegetables, blue cheese, walnuts, and prosciutto.
“Again, to pair with your Pinot.” He slid the plate across to her waited.
“So, I’m curious,” said Ava, who decided that the amuse bouche did its job in whetting her appetite, since she found herself ravenously munching down the salad. “Why go to all this effort if you don’t like the idea of your brother and my sister? I mean, this is perfect so far. I can’t wait for the main course.”
He looked at her for a long beat, during which she worried she came off as too eager, still too much the innocent design school co-ed who ran right home after graduation.
“You’d do anything for your brothers and sister, right?” he finally said.
“Yes, but not if I was worried about them making the wrong decision,” she replied. “If that was the case, I’d say something.”
“I’m not worried about Jake. I’m pissed off at him,” said Ethan.
“And yet, you put together this amazing meal for him to go propose to some girl. I don’t get it. Why?”
He sighed. “She’s not just some girl. She’s your sister, you should know. And I’ve been angry with him for a very long time. It has to do with our mom, and how he treated our family.”
Ava reached out shyly and touched his arm. “You don’t have to go further on that, Ethan. I know.”
Ethan paused, looked like he was struggling with how much he wanted to say on the subject. “Look, Ava, at the end of the day he’s my brother, and if my brother’s getting engaged, then my food is my gift to them. It’s the best of me. And I’ll find another time beside tonight to feed the two of them, maybe have them up to the restaurant soon or do a re-do, if he somehow bails on asking her tonight.”
He went on with a last remark, “Isabella’s a great girl, he’s lucky. He doesn’t deserve her.”
Ava averted her gaze, wondering about Ethan’s feelings for Isabella. Could he still harbor feelings for her older sister, years after taking her to a high school dance?
“Here, drink up, we’re going to another pairing for the main course.”
Ava gulped down the rest of her glass of wine, and opened up a rare bottle of their Estate Cabernet that sold out a few years’ ago.
“This one needs to breathe,” she said.
Ethan plucked both an aerator and a decanter out of one of his market bags and chucked both across the counter to her.
“Isabella’s the daughter of a vintner,” he shrugged apologetically. “I have my opinions, but I didn’t want to get that one wrong and have it sink Jake’s night.”
“And what is your opinion?”
“Neither of those. If it needs to be aerated…use an immersion blender.”
“No way!”
“I’m serious. There are all sorts of kitchen secrets out there in real working restaurants. And that is one of them.”
“You are so bad, that’s totally cheating!” she laughed. “Okay, Mr. Bad Boy Chef, I’m going to tell your public. All your female admirers at Musica will know you use a blender to aerate wine!”
“An immersion blender, not a regular blender,” he mimicked blending soup, then went on. “We’re not making margaritas. And you’re proving that I was right to bring both the aerator and decanter for your sister to choose from. You don’t want to mess with the daughter of a wine-growing family on the subject of decanting. But I’m telling you, Ava, it works. And I have a sommelier who handles all this stuff and manages the timing of the pouring to match up to the food for me – but I came up through the ranks, and I know if you need to work fast and decant a bottle of wine and have it turn out well, that will work. And since we’ll be eating faster than one hour from now – in the absence of my immersion blender, I bet you want the aerator.”
It had been several hours since Ava had eaten a full meal, and the first glass of pinot made her a little giddy and a lot braver than usual.
“So you work fast?” she asked him, shaking her head and pouring each of them a glass of wine through the aerator while he set out some marinated steaks and heated up the broiler. Even simple steaks were special. Ava noticed that he was pairing it with his salsa verde recipe from Musica that he’d made earlier that morning and carried up to the cabin with them in a mason jar.
“I do work fast, when needed. But I prefer to be thorough.”
Ava knew she couldn’t be misunderstanding him. There and then, she decided to cross the line right back.
“Good,” she countered, sliding Ethan his glass of cabernet. “So you’ll be thorough…with me?”
“Ava?” His eyes darkened instantly, and she couldn’t see any of the gold flecks that she knew were there.
“Ethan, let’s be very clear. I’m rebounding, and coming off a bad experience. And I want to have sex this weekend. With you.”
Chapter Four
“What?”
Ethan set the platter of marinating steaks aside with a decisive clatter and moved around the counter so fast that Ava almost didn’t see him.
He pinned her against the counter and kissed her, his hands wrapped securely around each side of her waist, keeping her rooted onto the barstool as she wrapped her legs around him.
After a few minutes, he started exploring, trailing a string of kisses up her jawbone to what he learned was a sensitive spot behind her ear when she let out a little moan. He settled into the kiss and loosened his hold on her arms, which she immediately slid up his back and around his neck.
Ethan pulled back and cupped her face in his hands, seeing her blue eyes cloud over with desire. “Ava, you mean you really want this to happen this weekend? Us?”
Rain pelted the cabin in bursts, and the sharp sound of snapping branches and a loud crash rang out as a tree fell down somewhere below them on the mountainside.
Ava seemed to realize where she was then and froze. She clamped her eyes shut and flinched, but didn’t move her arms, which were still looped around him.
She squeezed an eye open, then shut it.
“Ava?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“I’m willing time backward, just so you know,” she said in a small voice.
“No, Ava, don’t” he said, brushing his lips to her cheekbone and over her hairline.
Absolutely, positively anything else.
She wished for a long, excruciating moment that Ethan would just take her brazen offer as a lighthearted joke and laugh it off, so they could go back to their normal Best Friend and Big Brother roles in their right places as satellites orbiting Karma. She tried to think of a way to back out nicely, and couldn’t arrive at anything.
She didn’t feel like being a nice girl tonight.
Ava felt like they were suspended in a vacuum, about to explode. Her whole body thrummed with energy. But it was said and done, and she realized she’d meant every word.
“I want you, Ethan.” She met his gaze straight on, noting his golden eyes were darkened and glittering.
He stood pressed to her, shoulders squared, hands planted on the marble as if he were rising up out of it. She reached around him and took a last, slow sip of her cabernet, allowing the peppery berry flavor to roll over her tongue.
“Kiss me again.”
Ethan didn’t wait another second. He kissed her soundly, enjoying the remnants of her taste of cabernet.
He couldn’t believe she wanted him. He shifted in his seat, feeling warm, uncertain. This was his baby sister’s best friend.
“Are you really okay with this?” he asked.
“Mmm. More than okay.”
She felt warm, perfect i
n his arms. Her skin was perfect, and she smelled like orange and vanilla at the same time.
“You sure? Because I understand if this is too fast for you.”
“I’ve been miserable for so long,” she murmured in his ear. “I feel awful, and I’m tired of it. He doesn’t think I’m any good in bed.”
Ethan stiffened, angry with the schmuck. “So Xander made you feel like crap about yourself, and the whole time he was out doing it with the chick at the lingerie store?”
“Yeah.” The word was faint, a puff of air between them.
He kissed her temple.
“You’re not bad in bed, Ava. I can tell you that now. There is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you. And a whole heck of a lot wrong with him. You just need to find the right person, to treat you well.” He stopped at that, feeling guilty for not being the right person for her. Because in his heart, he knew that Ava really, truly deserved that right person. Not a one night stand with him.
“I don’t know, Ethan. Xander’s more worldly than I am, more sure of himself.”
She was still defending him, which Ethan didn’t understand other than to realize that she was messed up still, and her self esteem had been so battered that she couldn’t see Xander for what he was.
“He’s a turd,” he said pleasantly. “And how is he more worldly? Because you’re the one who was brave, who moved to the City to follow her dream and study, get the skill set to pursue a life’s goal. Not him. Far as I can tell, he’s sleeping in his mom’s garage and chasing honeys around, not doing something to better the world.”
She laughed. “You’re just saying that because you’re on my side, because you’re Karma’s brother.”
“No, I’m saying that because I’m on your side, period.”
“Thank you for that.”
“You can always use more people on your side.”
“I can. Now kiss me.”
He complied, grazing a hand over her ponytail and giving it a tug.
She pulled back, looked at him, and pulled the holder out, letting loose a torrent of wavy light brown hair. He imagined it falling on his chest, when they made love.
