Page 30

Rhys

“ O kay,” Shane says, poking the firepit.

We’re sitting around it in the backyard of Quinn and Sonya’s new house.

We’ve finished the hot-dogs-and-sausages and brews portion of the program and moved on to s’mores and bourbon.

“You’ve heard how the filming’s been going, and I’ve heard about Quinn’s new drug and Preston’s endless soul searching?—”

“Hey,” Preston says, but it’s good-natured.

As a fellow driven New Yorker, I never minded Preston in his uptight mode, and I almost don’t know what to make of his chill demeanor since he and Natalie got together and he moved back to Rush Creek.

“I don’t want to jump into something unless it’s really what I want to be doing. ”

“He’s doing that thing that most people do while they hike around Europe when they’re twenty-two,” Quinn says. “Finally discovering himself.”

“I think what most people do when they hike around Europe when they’re twenty-two is have a shit-ton of bad-idea sex,” Shane says. “Preston has never done anything that’s a bad idea.”

Preston scowls. “That’s not true. I’ve just never done anything impulsive. Well. Until recently. But they’re not the same thing.”

“What’s the difference?” Shane asks.

“You can slowly wedge yourself into a life you hate,” Preston says. “Which is a bad idea. Or you can impulsively finally let yourself be happy. Which is not.”

“Huh,” Shane muses. “That actually makes some sense.”

We’re all quiet for a bit, thinking about it. Or at least I’m thinking about it.

More exactly, I’m thinking about Matias and the job he more or less offered me, my life back in New York City, and how I feel about it. I don’t hate it. But neither would I exactly call myself happy.

I’m not sure I’ve ever felt happy .

Yes you have, a voice responds. You were happy on the road with Eden .

But that wasn’t real life, I tell the voice. That was…a fluke. An anomaly. A glitch in the matrix.

“I want to hear about this road trip of yours, Rhys,” Shane says. “And where things stand with Weggers and the will.”

Everyone turns to look at me, and I’m even more aware than I already was that I’m the first of four brothers to fail at his mission.

“He’s investigating ,” I say. “And taking the situation under advisement . Fucking slowly.”

“Do we think a financial contribution might help him think more quickly?”

“Jesus, no,” Preston says. “It’ll insult his pride and his ethics, and he’ll fuck us on principle.”

“Agreed,” I say. “No, we have to give him time…and if he doesn’t give in, I’m going to go all full-tilt legal on his ass. Matias Alfaro and I are working on angles.”

“Anything we can do?” Quinn asks.

I shake my head. “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”

“Does anyone feel like Weggers is toying with us?” Shane demands. “Like he never had any intention of enforcing the will and he wants to see how far we’ll take this?”

“No,” Preston says. “I’m pretty sure he’s not that clever or that manipulative.”

“He’s definitely manipulative.”

“No. Granddad was manipulative. Weggers is…faithful, obedient, and rule-abiding.”

“He’s basically Granddad’s dog in that scenario,” Shane says.

Preston winces. “Well. Kind of.”

We all ponder that for a moment.

Shane slaps a hand on his knee. “Well, at least tell us about the road trip. Let me get this right. You chased some runaway bride to Sioux Falls and hauled her back here so she wouldn’t fuck up the terms of the will?”

I roll my eyes. “Who’d you hear that version from?”

“Nan at Rush Creek Bakery.”

“Of course you did,” Quinn groans. “And it didn’t occur to you that she might have slightly twisted the story?”

“I like to give people the benefit of the doubt.” Shane crosses his arms. “So if that’s not what happened, what did?”

They all look at me.

“I’m sure she doesn’t want the story repeated…” I say.

Three sets of Hott eyebrows rise, and damn, I’ve only made them more curious.

“This much is public knowledge,” Quinn says. “The groom was the runaway. And he happened to have some of the bride’s belongings, important stuff, in his car. She needed to go after him, and Rhys went with her, to see if maybe they’d reconcile?—”

“—and they ended up with this whole planes, trains, and automobiles thing—” Preston adds.

“There were no trains,” I correct.

“Still,” Shane says. “You went all the way to Sioux Falls with her. That must have been kind of hellish for you.”

It takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me. “What?”

“You’re, like, the king of divorce, and here you are, trapped in a car with a weepy bride, having to talk her into marrying this guy who ditched her?—”

“It wasn’t like that,” I say sharply. “I wasn’t trapped, and she wasn’t weepy, and in the end, she realized she’d never wanted to marry him in the first place.”

It’s suddenly so quiet we can hear the crackle of the fire, the rhythmic croaking of what has to be a very cold frog, and the occasional hoot of an owl. They’re all staring at me.

“What?” I demand.

“Holy shit,” Shane says slowly, his voice almost a drawl. “You like her.”

I want so badly to tell him he’s being ridiculous…but I can’t bring myself to sell out Eden like that. Because, fuck, I do like her. A hell of a lot.

“Yeah,” I say. “Yeah, I like her.”

Then they’re all hooting and hollering and slapping my back and nudging my shoulder, calling out stuff about how the World’s Biggest Cynic has finally fallen and the King of Divorce has met the Queen of Hearts and all this other bullshit, and finally the only way I can make them shut up is to yell “Stop!”

They all go silent again—this time joined by the frog and owl, who’ve obviously been scared into muteness.

“Rhys Hott,” says a voice behind me, and even if the voice weren’t as familiar as a recurrent dream, I’d know who it was from the way every cell in my body stirs in response to having her so close.

“You could have told me the truth. I could have handled it.”