by Layla Hagen
I flip him the bird. “Well, play me a song while you’re at it.”
“Bossy, I like it.”
“If you can’t beat them, join them.”
Max sits on the couch next to me, holding his guitar. He watches me with warm eyes as he strums his fingers over the instrument. From the very first sound, I perk up. He is talented. The song is soft and melodic, and the hair at my nape rises as I listen to him. He is so calm and inviting, as if this comes naturally to him. Then he surprises me by humming along to the music, and now every hair on my body stands on end as I listen to him, watching his lips move. Right at this moment, he is utterly irresistible to me. The urge to lick his lips, and more intimate parts, hits me hard.
“Wow,” I say after he’s done. “You’re great at this.”
“What did you expect?”
“Men like to impress. I thought you were just talking big.”
“You need to give me more credit, Emilia. But I can show you big.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. I ignore him, because I genuinely want to know more.
“Tell me about the band.”
He leans back on the couch, lacing his fingers at the top of his head. “We were five guys in college. Decided to have fun together. We were well liked, and scored a few gigs in local bars. We even had some interest from agents and a record label that wanted us to do an album.”
“What happened?”
“The others went to record the album, but I didn’t stay in the band. Started working with my brothers.”
“Why didn’t you want to play professionally?”
“It was a lot of fun, and a way to relax. I always knew I wanted to work at Bennett Enterprises.” There is no hesitation in his voice.
“I admire your decisiveness. It took me a while to know I wanted to be a physical therapist.”
Max surprises me by smirking.
“What?” I press.
“Alice and I were talking about you a few years ago, taking guesses at what you might be doing. My guesses were doctor, physical therapist, or vet.”
“You know me better than I know myself, then.” The recognition sparks something deep inside me. “You’re happy with your job?”
“Very. I know the business inside out, especially after being in London and building everything up there.”
“That must have been hard.”
“Yeah, but I had a lot of capital to set everything up. Sebastian and Logan are the geniuses of the family, though. Pippa, too. They started with less than one percent of that capital way back when, and pulled it off. Not only pulled it off, but they had profits early on. I didn’t have to take on a single cent in student loans. They paid off college, expenses, everything. Same for the rest of my siblings. I didn’t have a care in the world. Still don’t, as a matter of fact.”
It dawns on me why he never questioned a different career than working at Bennett Enterprises. Family loyalty. That was something I didn’t fully grasp as a child, though I was envious of the way they always had each other’s backs. I’m proud to see that sense of loyalty lasted over the years, intensified even.
“What’s with the smile?” he inquires.
I shrug one shoulder. “I learned a lot about you today.”
“And what’s that?”
“You love your family and your job, are a lousy cook, and kiss your brother’s girl if given the chance. Not to mention you look hot playing the guitar.”
Max pulls my feet in his lap, cuffing my ankles with his hands. “I especially like how you formulated that last part. Not, you play the guitar well, but you look hot playing the guitar.”
“You misunderstood. Great voice plus great notes equals hot. It’s a girl thing. And your fingers looked mighty hot strumming those cords.”
My man’s lips curve up in a delicious smile. “Now I see where you’re going with this.”
“Finally. Thought you’d never take the hint.” I lift up my skirt a tad, offering him a peek of my thigh.
“I’m a simple man,” Max replies, his fingers feathering around my ankles, making me shudder. “You have to tell me what you want.”
Licking my lips, I lift my skirt even higher, until my intimate spot is almost visible. His eyes zero in there, and then widen.
“You’re not wearing your thong,” he says on a groan.
“I’m not.”
“You’ve been walking around like this all morning? Even at the grocery store?”
“I have,” I confirm, pushing my skirt up to my waist, watching with delight as his composure slips away. Parting my legs, he leans to me, peppering my inner thighs with kisses before lashing his tongue against my sensitive flesh. My thighs quiver as my hips lift up infinitesimally from the couch. He rims his thumb along my entrance, dipping his tongue inside me once.
“Max. More,” I whisper. But instead of obliging me, he straightens up on the couch, grinning devilishly.
“That’s your punishment for walking around commando and not letting me know.”
“Tease,” I accuse him. “I’ll have my revenge on you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Max
Monday evenings at Blake’s bar have become somewhat of a regular thing. He opened it a few months back, and in the beginning, we just came once in a while, but now it’s almost every Monday. It’s a slow evening for him, and it gives us all a chance to catch up with each other. I do see and talk to some of my brothers on a daily basis at the office, but we talk about work stuff, mostly. Right now, part of the gang is here: Logan, Sebastian, Christopher, and Blake, obviously. Of the girls, only Alice made it. We’re all sitting at a table near the counter, including Blake. He wears many hats since he opened this place—kicking ass on the business side and mixing drinks from time to time.
“I won’t bring you another round,” Blake says. “It’s a workday tomorrow.”
“Since when are you so responsible?” Sebastian asks him.
“Since I’m supposed to keep my customers in check,” Blake answers, as if barely believing that’s his role. “I used to hate bartenders who refused to give me more to drink, and now I’m one of them.”
“Cheers to karma doing its job,” Logan says, raising his glass of beer. “Good job on this place. I looked over the numbers you sent me. They’re great.”
Blake widens his eyes theatrically, opening his mouth, feigning shock. “Did you just pay me a compliment, Logan? I’ll mark this day on the calendar.”
Logan flips him the bird and everyone at the table bursts out laughing, Logan included. He used to scold Blake and Daniel on a regular basis, mainly because he felt our little brothers were wasting their potential, which they were. But now Blake runs his bar, and Daniel is doing a feasibility study on opening his own business.
“How come Nadine, Ava, and Pippa didn’t make it?” I ask the group at large. Nadine is Logan’s fiancée, and Ava is Sebastian’s wife.
“They’re all at Nadine’s store,” Logan replies. “Trying out the new collection.”
“And you’re here because?” I tease Alice.
She shrugs, answering with a serious expression. “You need some female supervision. And I am catching up with them later. I saw photos of Nadine’s new collection. It’s to die for, especially the ones with lace around the waist.”
That sounds like pig latin to me, and by the confused looks on my brothers’ faces, I’m not alone. I judge dresses by their length, amount of curves they show, and ease of removal.
“She’s very talented and hardworking,” Logan says proudly. It occurs to me that for the first time, I’m not tempted to throw a witty retort at him for walking around like a puppy in love, with the obsessive need to tell the world how great his woman is. In fact, I understand where he’s coming from. Another first. Emilia Campbell, what have you done to me? The desire to discover everything there is about her hits me hard. This woman makes me feel things I didn’t know existed. From the first time I was buried deep inside her, I realized I‘ll nev
er want anyone else. Better not mess this up.
Blake is still Blake, though. “Logan, we all know how great Nadine is and that you’re happy and yadda yadda yadda. No need to hear it for the hundredth time. Same goes for you, Sebastian.”
Logan and Sebastian flip Blake the bird, while Alice and Christopher look at me with shit-eating grins. Oh, hell no. No way am I throwing myself to the wolves.
“Anyone have time to go over to our parents’ next weekend and help them redo the fence?” Sebastian asks. “Ava and I are going to Lake Tahoe with these two.” He motions to Logan.
“I can do it,” I say at once.
“I’ll go too,” Christopher adds.
Even though more than ten years have gone by since Sebastian started providing for our parents, they still haven’t adjusted to having money… or free time. As a result, they constantly find something to repair or renovate, and do it themselves. They live with the mantra Why pay someone if you can do it?
Since my dad’s accident last year when he fell off the roof, my brothers and I pitch in whenever they have a renovation project. Leaving my parents alone for too long is dangerous. They get… ideas.
Currently I’m not in my parents’ good graces because I convinced my brothers to buy a company jet, which I admit was a splurge, but what the hell? To Mom and Dad it was a waste, but they’ll come around eventually.
“Great,” Logan says.
We chitchat for another half an hour before Sebastian, Logan, and Christopher leave. Blake, Alice, and I are the only ones left.
“I’m going behind the counter,” Blake informs us. “My bartender looks like she could use some help.”
Alice and I raise our eyebrows in unison. His bartender, a beautiful blonde, is mixing drinks for the three customers waiting at the counter, clearly not needing help. By the lustful look on my brother’s face, he’s referring to another kind of help.
“Blake!” Alice says sharply.
“You’re sleeping with her?” I blurt out. “Don’t be stupid. Stay away from your employees.”
“I’m not taking this shit from you, Max,” Blake says simply.
I straighten up in my seat, now genuinely concerned for my brother. “Blake, I’m not just giving you shit. You’re opening a can of worms for sexual harassment lawsuits. It’s not worth the risk. You’ve done a great job with the bar, and it has a great reputation. Do you want to drag that in the mud with scandals?”
He shrugs, but by the creases on his forehead, I can tell he’s not dismissing my warning.
“You know how to play the big brother card with Blake,” Alice says after Blake leaves the table. I grew up watching Sebastian and especially Logan play the big brother card, and I had time to observe what works with each of us. Logan leads by example—he does what he preaches, which means we listen to him… mostly. Blake and I have a different type of relationship. He pushes me to try reckless things, like skydiving, I try to keep him from doing too many stupid things. What works with Blake is pointing out what he has to lose, which in this case is the bar’s reputation.
“I hope he’ll stay away from that girl,” Alice says. “Speaking of girls—”
“No. You don’t get to question me about Emilia.”
Alice grins, leaning in over the table. “I was about to say I’ll be going too, so I still have time to stop by Nadine’s shop.”
Ugh… talk about setting myself up.
“So?” she presses.
“So what?”
“Anything happen? And don’t think I haven’t noticed that you went radio silence all weekend and ignored my three calls.”
“Fine, I was with Emilia. We’re dating.”
My sister’s expression lights up. Out of nowhere, she changes places, moving to the chair next to me and hugging me.
“What’s this for?” I’m confused as hell.
She lets go of me, patting my shoulder and kissing my cheek. “Going after your girl. Better to go after who you want than carry a torch forever, wondering if it would work out.”
“I haven’t been carrying a to— Wait a minute.”
Alice is being suspiciously un-Alice like. Her cheeks are pink, and she smiles coyly. She isn’t coy. Not ever.
“Are you talking about me or about you?”
“About you!” Alice says sharply, but the pink in her cheeks intensifies.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not... exactly.” She taps her fingers on my beer glass. “Fine, I was talking about me, but I’m not going to tell you who he is.”
“Which means I know him.” I run a list of possible candidates in my mind, and curse. None of them is good enough for my sister.
“Do I have to beat him to a pulp? Actually, you know what? I’ll do it now and you can answer later. Just give me his name.”
“Oh, for the love of God. That’s why I never tell you people anything. You act like cavemen.”
“Instinct. Nothing to do against it.”
“I’m pretty sure there are women out there whose brothers don’t want to abuse anyone she might want to date.”
“If there are, I don’t want to meet them. So tell me.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
“Apparently there’s years of history.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s out of the country anyway for God knows how long.”
That should narrow it down to… half a dozen potential bastards.
“Stop trying to guess who it is,” Alice says, correctly interpreting my silence.
“So why haven’t you…? Did anything happen at all…. Is it just a crush or…?” Man, I suck at this.
Alice grins, hugging me again. “You suck at talking about feelings, but thank you for trying.”
“So?”
“Well, I’ve been carrying that torch for a long time, and let me tell you, it consumes me. I can’t make a relationship work with anyone else, and I think it’s because I’m not trying hard enough.”
“Because of the torch,” I state. For a brief moment I do wonder if I’ve carried a torch—as my sister calls it—for Emilia since I was a kid, and that’s why I never made an effort to be in a relationship before her. I dismiss the thought. I would’ve known if that was the case. Even I can’t be that clueless.
“Yeah.”
“Does he know how you feel?”
“Not sure.” My sister looks unhappier than I have ever seen her, and that reason alone makes me want to deck the guy. I’m used to Alice either being bossy, teasing, or a bubble of joy. This is… hard, and I don’t want to see her like this.
“How long’s he gonna be out of the country?” I ask.
“No idea,” she replies, shoving a handful of chips in her mouth from the bowl in the center of the table. I mull the situation over in my head, trying to formulate any advice. Part of me wants to tell her to just forget the idiot. If he hasn’t caught on about her feelings, he’s not good enough for her. But I know Alice. She’s relentless. She never gives up, and she won’t let go of this unless she’s absolutely sure there is nothing more she can do.
“How about this: make your play whenever he’s in town. If it works out, fine. If it doesn’t, I’ll give him a black eye. At least you’ll know where you stand.”
“Can’t believe it. One of my brothers telling me to go after a man instead of flexing your alpha muscles and telling me no man’s good enough?”
“That would only make you want him more.”
“You know me too well.”
I kiss her forehead. “True.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Alice exclaims. “You don’t suck at giving advice on love as much as I thought.”
“That’s supposed to be a compliment?”
“Of the highest order.” She tips up my beer glass, drinking the very last few drops.
“You just had to drink mine instead of ordering a new one, didn’t you?” I ask.
“Yep. It’s more fun to steal yours. Now I really have to go if I wa
nt to make it to Nadine’s. God knows I can use some girl time.”
“Emilia has no time for girl time,” I find myself saying.
Alice, who was in the process of rising from her chair, sits again. “She has that much on her plate, huh?”
“Yeah. She works full-time as a therapist, takes jobs on the side so she can pay a caretaker for her grandmother during the day, and looks after her grandmother herself on evenings and weekends. There’s a neighbor who sometimes helps her out, but….”
“Maybe I can help. Let me know when you want to take Emilia out next time, and I can watch her grandmother. Not sure how much she’ll remember me, but… I liked her. She was a force of nature back in the day.”
“But you’re busy,” I counter. “You’re running a restaurant and opening another one.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Alice, if you do this, you can steal my food and drinks all you want, and I’ll never be mean to you again,” I say, kissing her forehead. Out of my three sisters, Alice is the one hardest to predict. She can go from spitfire to the loveliest person in a split second. Her nurturing side might not be as obvious to others as Pippa’s, but it runs just as deep. I shouldn’t play sister favorite, but Alice and I always had a special bond.
She smacks my shoulder. “Don’t you dare not be mean to me. It’s our thing. Now, I have to go meet the girls. I want to try one of those dresses with lace at the waist. Maybe one with crinoline too.”
And here she goes with the pig latin again.
***
Emilia
“You need to give me the recipe for your beauty treatment,” Abby says on Tuesday as we’re in the clinic’s break room, nursing cups of coffee. Evelyn is with us too. She lies on three chairs, with her arms bent under her head.
“I slept well this weekend, that’s all,” I mumble, not willing to spill the beans. Abby and Evelyn never have any qualms about dishing on details about their private life, but I’ve never felt comfortable doing the same. Now more than ever, I feel as if I should keep quiet, as if what Max and I have together might disappear if I tell anyone about it.
