Page 10

KELLAN

D ressed in well-worn jeans and a high-end hoodie, I pull a soda from the fridge and pop the top. One glance at the balcony pulls me straight back to everything beautiful that happened in that tub. Makayla is turning out to be the best kind of surprise.

Oscar’s interference still irks me, but I’m confident it’ll play out the way it’s meant to. If it’s meant to be, it’ll happen, so there’s no point in worrying. I know Oscar better than he knows himself, and if he thinks he’s going to resist her for this entire vacation, he’s just lying to himself.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alex asks, smoothing a pale blue shirt over his tan slacks.

“You know damn well where my thoughts are right now.”

“Ok, hand me one of those,” he says, pointing to my soda bottle.

I grab one, popping it open out of courtesy and hand it to him.

“Where did Oscar go?” Alex asks.

I shrug, caring less about where he could be right now.

“What are we going to do about him?” Alex asks.

“What do you mean?” I counter. “Oscar’s just being Oscar. He’ll loosen up after a few drinks and once he shakes the work stress. We should’ve kept this trip strictly pleasure; business is bleeding into our personal time.”

“Is that what you think happened?”

I arch a brow. “What? You’re saying you were spot-on back there—that you weren’t just trying to rile him up like you always do?”

“I was absolutely spot on. He’s always had a weakness for Makayla, ever since we were young. It irked him that he wasn’t here with us when we started this.”

“Don’t worry. Judging by how hot and heavy she got, I reckon she’ll sway him into the fold in no time,” I reply with a dry chuckle.

“Hmm.” Alex nods.

“How long do you think lunch with Bryan’s going to take?” Alex asks, swinging a leg over the back of the couch.

“I’m not sure.”

He settles in, feet on the coffee table. I’m too wound up to sit, and despite my let-it-be mentality I’m eager to get lunch over with.

“In the meantime, I think we can focus on making sure this trip turns out perfectly for Bryan,” I add. “He’s about to propose, man. Imagine how nervous he must be.”

Alex snorts and shakes his head. “We got carried away back there, didn’t we? We practically forgot about him and Callie altogether.”

“Turns out his sister has that effect on us. But it’s cool. We’ll handle it. We’ll tackle lunch first and be Bryan’s seamless wingmen.”

“Agreed. Whatever happens with Makayla next,” I say, “we will need to be careful.”

“Do you think he’ll be upset if we get together with her?” Alex asks.

I glance at the two closed doors across the room—one Makayla’s, the other Oscar’s.

“Does it really matter if Bryan cares? We’re not in high school anymore.” I shrug. “She’s an adult; she can make her own decisions.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to make things hard on her or strain our friendship with him. Starting something with Makayla without Bryan’s blessing could backfire. Eventually we’ll have to step out of the bedroom and face her family,” Alex says. “Right?”

“Of course.” My heart thuds just picturing that day. It’ll come—with her it has to—and the thought scares and exhilarates me in equal measure.

“Maybe we should follow Oscar’s lead on this,” Alex says with a sigh. “Maybe this way no one gets hurt. Not Kay, not Bryan, not any of us, for that matter.”

“I won’t argue, but three of us are already on board—more than on board.”

“Now all we have to do is convince Oscar,” Alex replies with a cool grin.

“I will,” I promise. “As soon as he hauls his ass out here.”

As if on cue, Oscar opens his bedroom door. Out of his suit and tie and looking comfortable in jeans and a knitted sweater, he gives each of us a curious look.

“Everyone ready? Where’s Kay?” he asks.

“Speak of the devil—you summoned her,” I quip as Makayla steps in, dangerously gorgeous in painted-on jeans and a red sweater that barely grazes her midriff. I didn’t expect to be this turned on by her being clothed, but here we are.

And I can’t wait to peel those clothes off her and let them pool in a heap on my bedroom floor.

Alex rises, just as mesmerized. Oscar’s eyes widen; he can’t stop tracking her as she saunters to the coffee table. If she notices our blatant staring, she doesn’t seem bothered. She slips her hands into her back pockets and flashes us a brilliant smile.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks.

“Sure,” I agree, stumbling over the word.

“Great. Let’s go—I’m starving.”

Tension hums in the air, sharp with want. Still, she has a point—we need real food. I set my bottle down while Alex drains the last of his soda, and we file out the door.

“Do you have your keycard?” I ask Makayla.

“Got it,” she replies, holding it up.

“I’ve got one too.” Oscar’s attempt at conversation is so awkward it’s almost cute.

I start to roll my eyes, but Alex elbows me in the ribs. One quick look tells me everything—give Oscar some breathing room with Makayla. He’s right; if Oscar can break the ice, the rest of us can follow.

I hang back as we head down the hall, letting Oscar and Makayla take the lead. It feels strange after what happened earlier, but soon enough conversation flows easily.

“How was your flight?” Oscar asks politely.

“I’ve had better,” Makayla replies. “I’m glad I made it, though.”

“Really? Ours was pretty smooth,” he mutters, making it hard for me not to roll my eyes again.

“Oh, I had some issues with mine. Ended up boarding a different plane with a layover in London,” she says.

At least she’s keeping the conversation afloat, no matter where he clumsily steers it. Bless his giant heart.

“Where were you laid over in London? Heathrow?”

“Yes. I’d love to see more of London soon. I’ll bet photos and travel blogs don’t do it justice,” she says.

“Oh, it’s a beautiful city. Crowded as hell in the touristy areas, but there are some parts that are timeless and charming. I think you’ll love Kensington Gardens, among other things,” Oscar replies. “You used to love going to art exhibits, right?”

“I still do.”

“Then you’ll want to hit the museums. The National Gallery and MoMA are incredible,” he says—and I’m almost proud of him. “You were a history buff too, right? Bryan had to sign off on that field trip your senior year.”

“Right—the dig site in Indiana.” Makayla laughs softly. “I was obsessed with archaeology and anthropology back then. I took a few college courses for extra credit but never had the nerve to pursue it seriously.”

“How so?”

“I’ve always loved wine more.”

Alex and I trade a confused look. Catching it, Makayla shrugs. “The winemaking process—the agricultural and scientific sides. From seedling to bottle. Even the sommelier angle…”

“Right—Bryan wasn’t thrilled about that, seeing as you were underage,” I say with a wry smile.

“I’m pretty sure he was glad to let you go off to Indiana instead,” Oscar replies.

Conversation ebbs and flows as we head toward the restaurant, and with every minute my faith in Oscar returns.

“Last year saw a slight drop in our revenue, which is why we’re putting in a little extra effort this year,” he tells her at one point while recounting our business development milestones with Bryan.

“Are you always working?” she teases.

“Pretty much.” He shrugs. “Owning a company’s no small thing, and even with Bryan, Alex, and Kellan pulling their weight, there’s always more to do. Right now we’re drafting a pitch for a promising start-up that just hit the market.”

I’m done with the gory work details, so I cut in. “Tell us what you’ve been up to, Makayla. There’s got to be more to your life than a horrible boss.”

Oscar gives us a curious look. “Horrible boss?”

“Oh, that’s a long story,” Makayla says. “But thank you for asking, Oscar. I have more going on in my life than just the job. As of last week, I’ve been putting together a business plan for my winery,” she replies, surprising all three of us.

“Already?” Alex arches a brow.

“Strike while the iron’s hot, right?” she quips.

“You want to open a winery?” Oscar asks.

“Yes.” She stops in the middle of the hallway. “It’s always sounded romantic—growing your own grapes and building a label. Wine’s one of my favorite things in the world, so it makes sense, right?”

“They do say that if you do what you love, you’ll never work a day in your life,” Oscar agrees.

I realize we’ve arrived at the elevator already, and don’t want this conversation to end. “How far along are you on that? Do you have a business plan?”

“Not yet,” she admits, “but my parents left me a generous patch of land out in the California countryside. My uncle still manages it. There’s a small house, though it’s been vacant for years. In their will Mom and Dad said I could do whatever I wanted with it, and a winery feels perfect.”

“That’s fantastic,” Oscar exclaims.

“Thanks,” she says. “I think so.”

“We have a client who owns a winery,” Oscar offers. “I could get you a meeting.”

“That would be great,” Makayla says, her eyes lighting up.

“Sure.” Oscar jabs the elevator button. “He can walk you through everything—equipment, logistics, which grapes suit your soil. If you’re doing this, you’ll want to do it right.”

“That would help so much,” Makayla says.

The elevator doors open and we all pile in. We have a thousand questions about the land and her plans for it. We each take turns grilling her, so that by the time we arrive in the hotel restaurant, we’re fully versed.

Makayla might’ve been disappointed we couldn’t go further earlier, but the moment she spots Bryan everything else fades. He sits between a massive fireplace and a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the slopes. The restaurant hums with conversation.

Bryan rises and waves. Makayla bolts toward him, leaving the three of us in her dust—and I don’t mind. She needs her brother time. I tug Oscar aside, hoping to knock some sense into him, while watching Makayla and Bryan hug from the corner of my eye.

“I know you didn’t get a chance to talk to Makayla before,” I whisper.

Oscar stiffens at the sudden sidebar. Alex follows Makayla, hugging Bryan’s soon-to-be fiancée. We only have seconds before the others notice we’re whispering, but I need to know where Oscar’s head is.

“Can’t you let her decide whether she wants to get involved with us?” I ask, and his irritation is immediate.

“Now is not the time.”

“She’s a grown woman,” I argue, my emotions getting the better of me.

“We’ll talk later,” Oscar says, pulling away to rejoin the table.

I sigh. He needs time to process, and I have to respect that. The three of us share everything—business and personal. Alex and I want to move forward with Makayla, and so does Oscar; it just has to be on his terms.

I shove my hands into my pockets and walk over to join the conversation.