Chapter 21 #2
“Come in.” And tell me what was so urgent you couldn’t send a message. I looked over my shoulder, expectant.
She poked her head in. Her mouth was set in a line, and her eyes were full of caution. I tensed so much the impending cramp of a Charley horse began in my back.
“Sorry, Mr. Foster. Braxton said there are two men here to see you?”
She didn’t have a fucking clue who I was expecting or why. And if she didn’t know, I didn’t know.
The answer was no one. “They can make an appointment like everyone else.”
A shadow moved behind her. Alarm spiked in her expression, and she pushed the door open. I was already standing up, worried my assistant would put herself in harm’s way.
“We’re not just anybody.” Tate nodded to Mrs. Crane. She was blocking the door, as feared. “Sorry for the abrupt visit, ma’am, but we know what he can be like.”
Teller was behind Tate, and they both had their arms folded, glaring at me. They didn’t quite look like they’d come right off the ranch, but close. Flannel shirts over solid-colored T-shirts, blue jeans, and cowboy boots.
Darin’s words twined through my head. Dress for the job you want. I want to stay owner of Copper Summit, so I can wear whatever the hell I want.
His sons must have the same mantra.
Mrs. Crane looked back and forth between us.
The pressure in my jaw finally sent ease-up signals to my brain. I’d chip teeth if I continued the glaring contest with them. “It’s all right, Mrs. Crane. Thank you.”
She stepped to the side but pinned them each with a stern stare as they entered. Then she put her hand on the doorknob. “Ring if you need anything—or anyone.”
Meaning she’d call the cops. I had no wish for Foster House to make the news in such a scandalous fashion.
“Nice place.” Tate went to the couch his sister had slept on when it stormed. I had maybe slept on it a few times since I had returned. And used the same blankets she’d used.
“Why’d you fucking leave?” Teller snapped. “With no goddamn word. Over twenty years later, and you pull the same immature bullshit?”
“It’s none of your bus—”
“Now that’s where you’re wrong,” Tate said calmly, crossing his boots at the ankle. “Wynter is having a hard time.”
My abs clenched. A physical hit. She wasn’t doing well?
She was supposed to bounce back, realize there were better guys out there, men who liked to joke around and laugh and go out instead of work so much they had a loft connected to their office.
She was supposed to find a good guy, tolerate absolutely no bullshit from him, and fall blissfully in love and have the babies I continued to convince myself I didn’t want.
“She was a natural at marketing.” Teller paced the office, hands on hips. “Now she sucks. Like you took all her talent with you.”
“She’s fucking talented,” I said in her defense. She’d made some suggestions I had put into use. Little slogans and sayings I had passed on to our marketers.
Drink responsibility. Drink Foster House.
Foster House. The only hit of flavor you’ll need.
Foster House. The door’s always open.
I had trashed the last one. I never had an open door. Except when she’d worked here.
He gave me a flat look. “Holiday Summit. It’s got the wheats.”
That was pretty bad. “She wasn’t serious.”
“That’s the thing.” Teller flung his hands up and continued to pace. “I think she’s at her wits’ end. Her creativity is in hiding. We’ve been rerunning specials of her previous recipes because her stuff is…” He spun and stomped in the opposite direction.
“Uninspired,” Tate finished.
“She can’t rely on me to do her job.” Yet I felt like a giant dick.
“I agree. But you also ditched us. And Mama.”
I had. I owned it and had the hardest fucking time not regretting how I’d left. “It was for your own good.”
Tate tipped his head back. “We’re all adults, Myles.”
So was the trouble hounding me. “It’s better if I stay out of Montana.”
“Way to sound cryptic, dickweed,” Teller said. “Why’d you leave? We bonded and shit that night at the distillery. Since you reappeared, we gave you a chance I never would’ve thought you deserved.”
Tate nodded.
I had to give myself a moment before responding. I’d felt the same and had thought those emotions were wishful thinking. Something I couldn’t have. Then Teller says that shit.
Nothing changed my situation. If anything, both of them coming here made it worse. “Can you just trust me? I wouldn’t have hurt Wynn if I didn’t have to. It was better this way.”
“For who? You?” Teller asked.
“If you’re in trouble, we can help.” Tate lifted a shoulder when I shot him an incredulous look. “I didn’t know you and Dad had that connection. I didn’t know how much you respected. him—and the way you respect Mama? Means a lot. Wynn doesn’t date doofuses.”
“If she does, she gives herself bangs after the breakup,” Teller added.
Her bangs went almost to her chin. How fast did hair grow? When had some jackass broken her heart? “Does she have bangs now?”
“Surprisingly, no, but then Autumn might’ve hidden the scissors.”
I hadn’t hurt her enough to make her cut her hair. Not that it’d detract from her looks at all. I couldn’t give fewer fucks about a girl’s hairstyle, but I liked having something to hang on to when—
Wrong time to think about sex with Wynn. She didn’t have bangs.
Because the hurt you caused went deeper, asshole.
I needed to get off the Wynn topic. A difficult task with her brothers here. “Did you two drive?”
Tate stood and stretched. “We flew. Tested out that private jet co-op Wynn told us about. There’s a lot of money coming in and out of Montana, so it was easy to find one.”
“This is our free test flight.” Teller stopped by the door to my office. “We have to leave soon. Gonna give us a personal tour of the place?”
The excitement that rose inside my chest caught me off guard. I loved talking shop and showing off what I’d built. But taking these guys through everything? Being open about what practices I’d learned from Copper Summit and how I’d adapted them to Foster House? That would be a special honor.
I could’ve done the same with Wynn, but I hadn’t known. The thrill inside me died. She’d have to find her inspiration in someone else. Meanwhile, I’d live without it.