Page 21

MAKAYLA

I can tell something’s off with the boys, a tension thrumming just below the surface.

For now, dinner awaits, and the aromas drifting from the triple-Michelin-starred kitchen promise an unforgettable culinary adventure for my nearly empty stomach. The Anderson triplets have stoked a whole other wicked appetite in me though, and there are definitely no regrets there.

On the contrary. I crave more. So much more.

“Kay, you were right. This wine is amazing,” Callie says after her first sip.

We gather around a wide, round table, trading amused glances while the waiter finishes pouring the first round of a robust, fragrant Cabernet.

“Thank you. It’d be ridiculous to launch a winery without understanding the juice, right?” I laugh and give her an approving nod. “I have to say, Callie, you look absolutely gorgeous tonight.”

Bryan smiles broadly. “I told her the same thing.”

Callie giggles. “He tells me every damn time, and I know he means it, but it’s nice to hear it from someone else for a change.”

Her emerald sheath shimmers from neckline to mid-thigh. Few women can pull off something so short yet keep it elegant, but she manages.

“You like the dress?” Callie asks, swirling her wine. “I wasn’t sure about it at first.”

“It’s a bold choice—especially at Christmas and in Sweden—but you make it work, Callie. I’m impressed.” I wink.

“Bryan thought it might be too revealing,” she whispers, reaching for my hand and tugging me into my seat. “I reminded him that my fashion choices were part of what first caught his eye—and asked if he really wanted me to switch to conservative.”

“What did he say?” I ask.

Bryan cuts in with a sly grin. “I’d rather be the guy who gets to admire her in anything she chooses than the fool who lost her by policing her wardrobe.” He arches a brow. “Shush all you want, ladies—I can still hear you.”

I shoot him a playful grimace. “Those dog ears of yours pick up everything within a five-mile radius.”

Callie laughs and lovingly pinches his earlobe. “I love these things.”

The waiter returns, eyeing the men—who’ve been busy talking business—with special attention. “Gentlemen, Mr.Dwyer wondered if you’d still like that quick tour of the Whiskey Lounge before we take your dinner order.”

Bryan shoots me a nervous look. Oh, I know what this is about. He wants to consult with Alex, Oscar, and Kellan about how to pop the question. It’s beyond sweet, so I gently squeeze my brother’s wrist.

“You guys should go,” I say. “Oscar’s dying to sample whatever cherry-cask single malt they’ve got stashed in there.”

Oscar’s brows shoot up. “You remembered.”

“I remember everything,” I shoot back with a wink.

Bryan laughs. “Are you sure, Kay? It can wait until later…”

“No, it cannot. Go. I’ll keep your girlfriend company.”

“We’re only going to gossip about you, anyway,” Callie adds.

The men trade glances, nod in unison, and follow the waiter from the sprawling dining room into the adjacent lounge. I can see the soft amber lights and black silk wallpaper from here. I imagine leather sofas and a whisper of cigar smoke completing the gentleman-club vibe.

Still, I prefer the restaurant, with its soaring windows framing the snowy mountainside and a high ceiling dripping with crystal snowflakes that scatter light into thousands of prisms overhead.

“God, she’s taking forever,” Callie grumbles, checking her phone.

“Who’s taking forever?” I ask.

She gives me a worried look. “Can I tell you a secret, Kay?”

“Of course—we’re practically family,” I say. “And in my family the skeletons stay in the closet.”

Callie laughs, but she doesn’t seem that amused. I’ll chalk it up to stress. It was a good joke. “So, here’s the thing,” she says. “I know why we’re here.”

“Oh?”

She winks. “Talk about keeping secrets. Bryan plans to propose.”

“Oh.” My voice comes out thin—no wonder. I didn’t expect that. “Okay, what gave you that idea?”

She sighs. “I saw the ring—before he even mentioned the trip. He’s not as good at keeping secrets as you, Kay, I’ll tell you that much.”

I laugh softly, unsure whether I should take it as a compliment, especially given the events of the day. Leaning forward, I give Callie a wondering look. “What’s the answer, then? What will you tell him?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes,” she says. “But… Knowing that this trip was going to be so special from the get-go, and seeing as he booked flights and accommodation for you and the Anderson brothers, too… and given some old history I don’t think you’re familiar with, I, um…

I went ahead and booked my sister on a flight to be with us. Her own room, too.”

“Oh! I didn’t know you had a sister.”

She nods slowly. “We’ve had a complicated relationship over the years. Bryan doesn’t really like her, to be honest. But I want Mel to be here. She’s the only family I’ve got left…”

Honestly, Bryan doesn’t like surprises—not the kind that breed awkwardness, anyway. He’s also not one to hold grudges; he’s a golden-retriever soul through and through. What fascinates—and worries—me is that he never mentioned Callie’s sister.

Sure, I’ve been away for years, but still—how did that tidbit escape me?

“Okay, I see,” I say to Callie. “How exactly were you planning on springing this on my brother?”

“Melanie is supposed to get checked into the resort tonight,” she replies. “Tomorrow, at breakfast, I was going to tell him that she’s already here. I don’t know how to tell him without giving away the fact that I know about the incoming proposal. He’s worked so hard to make it perfect…”

I can’t help but chuckle dryly. “Just blame your sister. It’s what I would do if I were in your place.

” I pause and adopt a nasal, feline tone for dramatic effect.

“Oh, honey, all I did was tell Melanie that we were vacationing here in this wonderful place. I had no idea she’d want to pop in to enjoy it herself. But since she’s here… why not?”

“That’s not the worst impression of Callie I’ve heard,” a woman’s voice brings our conversation to a sudden halt.

Callie’s humor turns to surprise as she looks up, eyes sparkling with recognition.

I follow her gaze to see a beautiful, slim-figured woman approach our table.

A black satin dress cinches her waist, and six-inch stilettos—undoubtedly painful—lift her already perky backside.

If I passed her on the street, I’d never peg her as Callie’s sister; they look carved from different worlds.

“Mel!” Callie jumps up. “I thought you weren’t landing in Stockholm until after ten p.m.”

“I got the flight details wrong,” Mel replies. Her eyes sweep across the table, taking in the white cotton tablecloth and the fine china plates. Finally, her eyes settle on me and she smiles in a way that’s not entirely friendly. “I hope my showing up now isn’t a problem.”

“Makayla, this is Melanie, my sister,” Callie introduces us. “Mel, this is Makayla, Bryan’s sister.”

“So nice to meet you,” I say, standing up.

She shakes my hand—her grip tighter than I’d like. Melanie then gives her sister a long look. “You’re sweating bullets, sis. What’s wrong?”

I chuckle. “Callie barely looped me in. She hasn’t told Bryan about you joining the party.”

“Ah, hence why you suggested placing the blame on me,” Melanie replies, her voice flat.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to?—”

“No, you’re absolutely right,” she cuts me off, then gives Callie a warm smile. “It seems like the perfect way to prevent a disaster. Bryan gets to propose the way he intended, and I get to watch my little sister say yes to the man of her dreams. Everybody wins.”

I don’t know whether I like or hate her.

Rarely do I find myself so conflicted about someone, but maybe it’s because I already know that Bryan isn’t Melanie’s biggest fan, and I tend to trust my brother’s judgment, in general.

At the same time, this is still Callie’s sister.

And no one is perfect, at the end of the day.

Some benefit of the doubt wouldn’t hurt.

“When did you get in?” I ask as we all sit down together.

“Just a few hours ago,” Melanie says. “You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was to get away. There’s so much work to be done at my office, now that I’ve made junior partner.”

“Mel is a corporate attorney,” Callie explains.

Melanie seems to be the whole package—brains and beauty. “That is beyond impressive,” I say. “It takes a certain degree of ambition to make it up the corporate law ladder, right?”

“I usually get what I want,” she says, and something in her tone unsettles me. “How about you, Makayla?”

“Me? I was a junior account executive at a boutique marketing firm until recently, but now I’m looking for something different.”

“I’m not surprised. Marketing can be brutal—not everyone’s cut out for it. I’m sure you’ll find something you love eventually,” she says. The condescension grates.

Callie is too worried about how she’ll explain this to Bryan to notice, but that’s alright. I can hold my own, though I’m not sure what Melanie’s beef is with me. Maybe it’s with everyone she meets. Maybe this, right here, is why my brother doesn’t like her.

“I’ve already got a project in development,” I tell Melanie with a confident smile. “On another note, we’re going to hit the slopes again tomorrow. Will you be joining us? Have you ever been skiing?” I ask diplomatically.

“Of course,” she replies, laughing at my naivete. “The first time I went on a slope was in middle school. Our parents took us out of school so that we could go on a week-long vacation in Aspen.”

“That’s cool,” I mutter, thinking of my own humble attempt at the ski slope just that afternoon. “Well, I’ve yet to master the skis but I think we’re getting there. Hopefully, my ass will take fewer fails tomorrow,” I add with a light laugh.

“It’s a great workout if you’re looking to slim down a bit,” Melanie says, her meaning clear.