The Everest Brothers: Ethan - Hutton - Bennett

by Scott, S. L.

  “Nothing wrong with it, but when do they work?”

  “They work around living instead of fitting living into their work schedule. It’s a good lesson. One I never knew until I lived here.”

  “Speaking of you living here, when you said you’re breaking, do you mean you’re taking a break, a sabbatical?”

  “I’m not sure how to answer that, Bennett.” He’s too perceptive.

  “I’ve liked the honesty route.”

  I set the glass down and begin to spin the stem before glancing up at him sitting across from me. “I don’t know if I can be that honest about everything.”

  That gives him pause. He looks away, but with a more determined tone, he asks, “Is the Winter with me now the same woman the rest of the world sees?”

  “When I’m with you, I’m the person I want to be.”

  The waiter comes between us briefly and blocks me from reading his expressive eyes. My heart starts racing as I sit impatiently waiting, wondering what he’ll say next, or ask, and if I can answer truthfully.

  The waiter leaves after setting the dish of escargot between us. Peeking up, I wait for him to lead. Instead of peppering me with more questions, he picks up his fork, and says, “No time like the present.” He pops a snail in his mouth and starts to chew, slowly at first, and then he swallows. “It’s not that bad.”

  I can’t let him show me up, so I take a deep breath and eat one. I don’t love it, and I’m struggling to even like it. If I was alone, I’d spit it out, but he swallowed, so I will too. The right side of his mouth rises. “Not your cup of tea, huh?”

  “Or coffee, wine, or ugh. No, I didn’t like it. It’s gross. Never make me eat another.” He starts to laugh, and then I do.

  Holding his glass up, he says, “Here’s to no more snails.”

  “I will definitely toast to that.”

  With our eyes on each other, we both drink. He sets his glass down and leans in. “You know what I could really go for?”

  “What’s that?”

  “A steak. A big, juicy steak.”

  God, he makes eating a steak sound like a sinful act. “That does sound good. I don’t even remember the last time I had a steak.”

  “What do you like to eat?”

  “I eat a lot of salads. Sad, sad salads,” I say. The thought of a steak really does sound good, and my stomach growls. “God, I need a steak.”

  “I think it’s time I buy you a proper dinner since this is a duck?”

  I burst out laughing. “Yes, an official duck.” And the best duck . . . date, I’ve ever had.

  In awe, I stare at him. Nothing could have prepared me for where we ended up when we met a few days ago, but now that we’re here, basking in each other’s company, I don’t want tonight to ever end. How could I when I feel like I’m finally breathing again?

  10

  Bennett

  I’ve avoided six calls from my brothers today, but I should really take the seventh. Winter makes it so tempting to ignore it like the other times. I just know if I do, they’ll send out a search and rescue team.

  I hold the phone up. “I’m sorry, but I need to take this.”

  “It’s fine,” she says, waving me off like it’s no big deal.

  Excusing myself, I walk through the restaurant toward the door. Just outside, I stand among the smokers congregated out on the sidewalk. “Hey, what’s up?”

  “What do you mean, what’s up? You were supposed to be in the office today,” Ethan says. His voice is eerily calm . . . Shit.

  “I sent an email that I’m taking vacation days.” I release a heavy sigh. “I never take time off. I’m taking two fucking days. The company isn’t going to fall apart in that time.”

  “That’s right because it’s my fucking company. What are you still doing there?” Ethan asks.

  “I’m okay. Thanks for asking,” I reply curtly. There’s a slight echo. I’m on a speaker. That means my other brother is there too.

  “Glad to fucking hear it,” Ethan remarks. “Wish you would have answered the first call, so I didn’t have to spend my day worrying about you. Singer’s called me three times worried sick.”

  Ah. That’s when I realize this isn’t about me taking a few days off. This is about their concern for my well-being. His wife is apparently not the only one worried. “I get it. You miss me, but I’ll be back the day after tomorrow. In the meantime, I’m sightseeing.”

  “With Winter Nobleman?” Hutton’s voice is distant. He’s a pacer.

  There are a lot worse ways he could have asked what I know he’s thinking. “Look, sightseeing isn’t fucking. I’m not having sex with her since I know that’s what you guys think is going on here. But I do like her, and I also think there’s more to this story than I was told by her father.”

  “So you’re not sightseeing, you’re investigating?” Hutton asks.

  “No, I’m taking a few days off, and we’re spending time together, getting to know each other. That’s it.” So far. No promises for later. “She’s . . . fascinating.”

  “Oh wow, baby bro,” Ethan starts, “sounds like you might be—Do I say it, Hutton, or let him off easy?”

  Hutton replies, “Say it,” then chuckles.

  “Nooo.” I’m already shaking my head. “No need to say it.”

  “In love.”

  “Asshole,” I snap.

  “So it’s true?” he adds. “We’ve seen photos. She’s—”

  Standing under a streetlamp, I turn back, trying to see her through the window. “Beautiful.”

  “I’ll tell ya. I fell for Singer the moment I saw her,” Ethan says.

  Hutton sounds closer to the phone when he says, “The moment I saw Ally, I knew we were meant to be more than a casual thing.”

  Winter spins a diamond in her ear, glancing around at everyone in the restaurant. The smile I left her with has vanished, and she appears unsettled. From my absence? “As much as I’d love to stroll down memory fucking lane with you two and relive your fairy-tale endings, I need to go.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Hutton laughs. “Don’t forget about the deals we have signed since it looks like the Nobleman contract won’t go through by the end of the year.”

  I’m quick to reply. “It’s going through.” The deal is a good one before he added that clause. I should be able to close it on merit alone.

  “It’s good to see you’re still on track. Enjoy your time off, and we’ll see you in a few days,” Ethan says.

  I tuck my phone away and head back in, keeping my eyes on Winter. As soon as she sees me, she exhales a breath, and the anxiety that I spied before disappears with it. A small smile reappears, but she seems to catch herself and takes a sip of wine as if everything’s been fine all along.

  I see through the act. I’ve noticed how she looks around as though she’s expecting her world to fall apart, but she never looks disappointed to see me. I can say the same about seeing her. “Sorry. I needed to check in with my brothers.”

  “That’s okay. I’m glad you’re back.”

  “Me too. So where were we?”

  “Drinking. Eating. Talking.” Her tongue dips out and runs over the corner of her mouth.

  This woman . . . she does things to me. Many things.

  She takes the last bite of our shared crème brûlée and then leans back. “I’m stuffed, and I’ve had a lot of wine. Basically, I’m in heaven.”

  The bill is set down without a word from the waiter. Our hands bump when we both reach for it. I’m quicker, though. “I’m not letting you buy me dinner. This meal is on me.”

  “Merci. The steak . . .” She moans while rubbing her stomach, and I swear the sound hits straight below my belt. “Just so good.”

  I set my card down, and it’s swiped away before I have time to pull my hand back. Eager waiter. Back to the beauty at my side. “What do you have planned the rest of the night?”

  “I’m hoping to spend it with you.”

  Glancing at the bottle
, I find it’s empty. Since I had a couple of glasses, she can’t be that drunk. I think it’s the full stomach. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  While we wait, she asks, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  “Have you been talking to my brothers?”

  She shakes her head. “No, why would I have talked to your brothers?”

  “It’s nothing.” I laugh under my breath. “Just a familiar topic.”

  Resting her chin on the palm of her hand, she has her elbow planted on the table between us, looking at me like I’m that dessert she just finished.

  Lowering my voice, I ask, “Do you?”

  “I didn’t used to, but that’s because I’ve learned the difference between love and lust.”

  “This is a lesson I’m not sure I’ve learned. Maybe that’s why I get bored or burned. What’s the difference?”

  Her tone is friendly, but she holds me accountable. “You never answered my question, Mr. Everest.”

  “I was happily avoiding.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I don’t want to lie to you.” Not any more than I have. I need to tell her the truth, and I need to do it tonight. Maybe confessions like that are best served after dessert.

  Her breath catches, her lips still against the edge of her glass. She blinks and then takes a sip. When she returns the glass to the table, she says, “Lies are woven into the fabric of our lives. We were born of lies, and we’ll die because of lies. Sometimes, I wonder if honesty exists.”

  She knows.

  She knows I’m lying to her and sees right through me. The time has come. It’s now or never if I want the slightest of chances to see her again, and I definitely do. I’m about to speak, but she says, “Just answer from your heart.”

  “From the heart . . .” She’s right. Most women haven’t always been interested in what I’ve thought or had to say, so this is different. Challenging. She’s forcing me to dig deeper and find what is from the heart as opposed to the defensive answers flooding my mind, to ignore the script I was silently writing. “Okay. I—”

  “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  “I’m beginning to.”

  I hadn’t noticed that these little cat whiskers form when she smiles big enough for the joy to shine in her eyes. For a beautiful woman, she seems to have so many versions of gorgeous. Right now, as happiness overcomes her, she’s breathtaking. Speak from the heart. “Yes.”

  Like the other two times, the moment passes, leading us to another more emotionally complicated transition. Do we drop it?

  The waiter returns my card. She finishes her wine, and says, “It’s time. We should go.”

  “Time for what?”

  “Time to go to our next destination.” When Winter reaches for my hand, I realize we have more time.

  Time to get to know each other better.

  Time together.

  Time to kiss.

  Time.

  We have time.

  “Ah. Right.” When we get outside, I think about the times we’ve missed a kiss, a touch, or an opportunity, letting the heavier stuff slip under a full moon and stars that shine a little brighter here in Paris. Not in any rush as we begin to walk, I ask, “Where are you taking me?”

  “Not far.” There’s that glint again. She’s up to no good, and I like it. “A few blocks and then we’ll be there.”

  “So you picked this restaurant for proximity.”

  “I picked this restaurant because I like it and thought you would, too.”

  “I do.”

  The streets are full of people meandering, tourists surrounding the area—other languages float through the air in the silence between us.

  Listening to her is my favorite, so I ask, “Almost a month in Paris is a long time. Don’t you miss home?” I don’t even think she realizes how her hand tightens around mine, or that she’s looking around like she’s searching for someone specific. “What’s wrong, Winter?”

  I give her plenty of room and time to answer how she wants and when she’s comfortable. I want to hear it from her, not learn about her from her father. I owe her that.

  She points at the corner. “We’ll take a left here, and then you’ll see.”

  “I’ll see that you’re avoiding my question?”

  “No.” We round the corner and then stop. “You’ll see that, which is way more interesting.”

  In the distance, down at the end of the long avenue, the Eiffel Tower sparkles as if it knew we were coming. “Now that is amazing.”

  “Right.” She tugs me forward. “Want to get a closer look?”

  How can I deny her this? Look at her smile—relaxed, at peace, and happy. It’s like she was never anything but all of these wonderful things at once. I don’t want to be the one to ruin it. “Definitely.”

  It’s not a quick walk, but it’s not too cold, and our hands are warm together. Any effect the wine was having at the restaurant is long gone and we’re left with each other now, and that’s enough.

  Talk of the weather and stars, the Eiffel Tower, and the Empire State Building have all made it into the casual conversation. “I’m just saying, any woman would swoon if she were asked to meet atop the Empire State Building on Valentine’s Day.”

  “But the foreshadowing ruins it.”

  “No,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s about the buildup. Even if you’re sure the other will show up, there’s always that one ounce of doubt that keeps you on edge until the last moment.”

  “So is it that edge, the adrenaline that sparks, or the romance that you want?”

  She shrugs. “Maybe both.”

  “I can see that. We’re drawn to danger.”

  “We sure are.”

  We reach the park, and as she admires the monument, I admire her. “I don’t want tonight to end,” she says, turning toward me.

  “Me either.”

  Those missed opportunities replay in my mind—of how I wanted to kiss her at the statue, and when I almost kissed her instead of licking her at the bakery. “I don’t want to miss another chance.”

  “Another chance to what?”

  “Kiss you.”

  “You want to kiss me?” she asks as if it’s not the only thing I’ve been dying to do since the first night we met.

  “Of course, I want to kiss you.”

  She glances at the Eiffel Tower lit up against the dark sky, then back at me. “Okay.”

  Maneuvering around, I lean in, cupping her sweet face. “I’m not going for okay. I’m going for great.” When her eyes dip closed, and I look at this woman in my hands—dark lashes against her creamy skin, pink lips not quite puckered but patient, and a splattering of the lightest trail of freckles across her cheeks, my heart starts beating against my chest.

  Her eyes open, and when the clear blues capture my attention, she whispers, “Are you going to kiss me, movie star?”

  “I am, but it’s not every day you get to experience a first kiss. I don’t want to rush it.”

  First touch.

  The sweetest of smiles spreads across her pretty face. Just as she takes a breath, our lips press together.

  First taste.

  I sweep my hand around to her lower back and hold her, deepening the connection. Our lips part, and our tongues embrace.

  First kiss.

  Rich wine and the forbidden waiting to happen linger on her lips. I slide my hand up, weaving my fingers through her hair, slipping through the silky strands. When we part, our eyes slowly open. I don’t move, not ready for it to be over.

  The chill of the night invades our space, and our breath comes out like clouds. “How’d I do?”

  When she smiles and reaches up to caress my face, she says, “Better than great.”

  In the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, I kissed her and suddenly knew I had to have more. “I don’t want to be forward, and I’m trying my best to let what’s happening between us happen naturally, but—”

 
“But we don’t have all the time in the world. We only have another day.” Her hands take one of mine between them, and she holds it.

  “I want you to tell me what you want, Winter.”

  “I want you.” The words come out quick, her heart speaking for her.

  “I want you to stay with me tonight. Whatever happens tomorrow happens, but tonight, I want all of you.”

  Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I lean down when she looks up and kiss her because I can and because when I do, she smiles afterward, making me want to give her a million more.

  I still don’t know if I believe in love at first sight, but I know this is the closest I’ve ever been. I also know that I want to give her a million more of anything her heart desires. And right now, I hope it’s me.

  11

  Bennett

  The taxi pulls to the curb, and the doorman opens the door. I step out and then offer a hand to Winter, not intending to let go until we’re alone. Not for fear of losing her, but for pride in the fact that this beauty is choosing to spend her time with me. I want to make a show of it, but I don’t. I try to play it cool.

  Inside, we don’t rush. We’re not doing anything illicit. I push the button for the elevator and then nudge her lightly with my elbow. When she looks up, I ask, “Are you nervous?”

  “Not at all. Should I be?”

  “I am.”

  Rolling her eyes, she nudges me back. “No, you aren’t.”

  I kiss her hand. “You just can’t tell,” I say, chuckling. “I’m good at hiding it.”

  “You’re ridiculous is what you are.” The door slides open, and when we step in, she quickly moves to the back corner. A tilt of her head. A wry smile. Her eyes only on me. I like everything about the sight before me. “What do you have to be nervous about?” she asks.

  “I’m riding in an elevator with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, who not only intrigues me but also challenges me.”