CHAPTER 22
Ian
“Hey! Come on in, man.” Ian grinned at his brother, then looked to his petite wife, who stood beside him, beaming. “Eve. It’s great to see you. It’s been—”
“Surprise!”
Ian blinked. Popping out from behind the door was what seemed to be his entire family.
“What the hell?”
His parents and his brother Erik stood there, then moved aside to reveal his grandmother, who threw Adam a sly smile.
Ian’s eyes widened. “Bestemor!”
This was a big surprise. His grandmother lived in Norway. Before he could say anything, both she and his mother quickly moved in for a hug.
“Hei, barnebarn.” His grandmother liked to address family in Norwegian.
“Hello, Ian,” his mom said.
“Mom.” He wrapped one arm around each of them and stared at Adam over their heads. “What the heck, man? I invite you and your wife over for dinner, and you fly in the entire clan?”
Adam shrugged, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. “You always make enough for an army anyway.” He clapped Ian on the shoulder. “I called in reinforcements.”
Ian shook his head. “That you did.”
“Since you finished all your ratings with flying colors and are now a real pilot, we thought we’d celebrate and have the annual family gathering here.”
Ian let the real pilot jab slide and stepped aside. “Hi, Dad.”
His dad gave him a one-armed hug. “Congratulations, son. I hear Adam has been keeping you busy.”
“Yeah. Maybe you can convince your cheapskate firstborn to cough up better pay.”
Adam snorted. “You should be paying me for unchaining you from that desk and keeping you out of trouble.”
Behind him, Erik laughed, repositioning his heavy photographer bag on his skinny shoulder.
Ian grinned at his younger brother. “Well, well. Would you look at this: an emaciated yeti sighting.”
Erik rarely attended family gatherings and disliked Las Vegas almost as much as he did Norway, where he had spent the last few months.
“What brings you to Sin City, Runt?” Ian asked.
“Food.” Erik smirked, carefully placing his bag on the entry table. “And it better be worth the trek from Norway.”
Ian chuckled. “No one invited you. Call for pizza.”
Erik punched him in the arm. “Too late. I’m here, so feed me.” He sniffed. “Smells edible, I guess.”
Bestemor threw Erik a stern look as she shuffled in. “And what can you cook, child?”
Erik winced. He hated being called that, but as the youngest, he had to suck it up, not to mention that Erik in the kitchen was a calamity waiting to happen.
Ian snickered. He closed the door, smiling as the quiet, empty penthouse suddenly filled with loved ones and joyful chatter.
Adam was already behind the bar. “What’ll everyone have? I’m mixing.” He had addressed them all, but his eyes were on his wife, who gracefully sank down on the sofa, her hand moving back and forth over the leather arm, her pretty lips curving into a suggestive little smile.
Adam’s eyes instantly flashed with heat, and Ian had to look away. This penthouse undoubtedly held scorching memories for those two, just as they did for him.
“You haven’t changed anything,” Eve observed, her gaze roaming around the vast living room and its expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows.
He’d thought of it but changed his mind.
Pathetic as it was, he felt closer to Claire if everything in here stayed the same.
Even the lipstick imprint on the mirror was still there, the cleaning crew having left it there for some reason.
He’d found it when he’d arrived and told them not to touch it.
“Of course I haven’t changed anything. Your husband barely leaves me time to shower, let alone delve into projects.”
“I call BS.” Adam waved a mixing spoon in the air. “You’re gone enough that this place could have been entirely redone without inconveniencing anyone.” He rounded the bar, holding a tray with two cocktails and a large glass of tomato juice, which he handed to their grandmother.
“Takk.” She raised it to her lips and took a sip, then smiled. “You remembered the extra celery salt.”
Adam smiled back. “Of course I did. Just a splash of vodka. Exactly how you like it.” He held out a gin and tonic, which Mom accepted with a tip of her head.
“Lime instead of lemon. And for my wife—” He turned to Eve and lowered the tray, allowing her to collect an orange cocktail, which Ian recognized as her favorite, a porn star martini.
Her eyes widened. “Where did you find passion fruit?”
Adam’s eyes lingered on her mouth as she took a sip. “I pocketed one of the frozen portioned Ziplocs before we left home.
“I’m impressed.” Her heated gaze met his.
“All for you, baby.” Adam winked and returned to the bar. “What’ll it be, Dad?”
Their father waved a hand. “Whatever you’re making for yourself is fine.”
“Old-fashioned?”
“Sounds good.”
Adam looked at Ian. “Yeah, I know, boring ol’ Hennessy for you.”
“Why don’t you pour me some of that cheap stuff you got me after the last check ride?”
“Now we’re talking.” Adam reached high on the shelf to grasp the exquisite Tesseron Lot N°29 Exception.
He paused as he lowered the near-empty bottle and frowned.
His worried gaze flicked to Ian for a second, but Adam said nothing, pouring the last of it into a snifter and handing it over without comment.
Ian nodded his thanks, knowing he’d hear about this later. “What about Runt? I think I have some Capri Suns somewhere in the pantry.”
Erik rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath.
“Nah, he likes a Shirley Temple,” Adam deadpanned as he picked up a bottle of Myers’s and one of Coke. “Three cherries, right, Runt?”
In no time, he’d expertly mixed the rum and Coke, the ice cubes clinking as he passed it to a still-muttering Erik.
“OK, everybody has a drink.” Adam’s cool gaze went around the room. He raised his glass. “To family!”
“Family!”
Ian smiled as he clinked one glass after another, taking in their joyful, familiar faces. It was good to have them all under one roof. He cupped the snifter and swirled the fine topaz-colored drink, breathing in the aromas of honey and figs laced with oak.
“Jannie sends her love.” Adam took the pick out of his drink and ate the cherry.
“Yeah, I noticed she’s missing. There’s no bullying and shock talk going on. She couldn’t make it, I take it? Is she OK?” She seemed a little off when Ian had spoken to her last week.
Adam’s lips thinned. “She said to tell everyone she’s busy looking at vaginas and to be sure to send pictures.”
Erik coughed, spewing a bit of rum and Coke.
Dad chuckled. “That’s my girl.”
Mom and Bestemor hid their smiles behind sips of their drinks.
Ian cringed. “I guess I spoke too soon about the lack of shock talk. She manages to get us even when she’s two thousand miles away.”
“Do you think Blake will be there for the birth?” Eve asked.
“I have no idea. She didn’t say, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to ask,” Adam said.
Ian frowned. “She might be better off if he stays away from her.”
“Blake should be there when those babies are born,” Mom said. “I wish they’d try to work out their problems.”
“They already tried, Mom.” Ian sipped his drink. “What makes you think they would succeed this time?”
Adam swirled his large ice cube. “You are familiar with the definition of insanity, right? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results?”
“He loves her,” Mom said.
“He has a funny way of showing it.” Adam smirked.
“Seems to me like he showed it to her just fine.”
Ian, Adam, and Erik whipped their heads around to gape at their mother.
“Now we know where Jannie gets it,” Adam muttered.
She laughed. “What? We’re all adults here. How do you think you three came into the world?”
Erik turned beet red. “Mom. Please.”
Grandma chuckled. “The stork does migrate from Norway, after all.”
Mom gestured with her gin and tonic. “There’s nothing wrong with a robust sex life.”
Erik took a big gulp of his drink, then put it down and stalked off, his hands on top of his head.
“You scared him away, Mom.” Ian sipped his cognac, savoring the complex flavors rolling on his tongue.
“Nothing he hasn’t heard before.”
“There’s a difference between lust and love.” Adam went to sit beside Eve and placed a hand on her knee. She looked up at him reverently.
Ian’s heart lurched. He’d seen that same look in Claire’s eyes, and not during sex. She’d looked at him that way during the catamaran cruise when he was responding to the grilling by her friends.
“Lust is the spark,” Bestemor said. “And everyone knows it’s the spark that lights the fire.”
“That’s not enough,” Adam took Eve’s hand and kissed it. “Lust isn’t love.”
“You already said that.” Ian took another sip of cognac, feeling the warmth spread in his chest. “Let her talk. Go on, Bestemor.”
“Adam is correct; lust isn’t love. But it’s what lights the fire.
” She paused to take a sip of her drink.
“I believe that when you meet the right person, you just know. You cherish every moment with them and miss them the second they walk out of sight. You want them to be the first person you lay eyes on in the morning and the last person you see before you go to sleep.” Her eyes had a faraway look.
“It’s when your eyes light up, and your heart beats a little faster just because they walked into a room.
And if you’re lucky and nurture and stoke that flame, it can last a lifetime.
Lust fades. But in the embers of the fire, love stays. ”
Ian looked up to find Mom’s eyes shimmering, his dad placing his hand over hers and smiling, and Adam and Eve looking at each other as if they needed to get a room. Ian swallowed hard. He knew how much Bestemor missed his grandfather. Their fifty-year marriage was the stuff of legend.
For a few moments, no one spoke.
“That was beautiful, Grandma,” Eve finally said. “You should write poetry.”
Dad gave his mother a fond smile. “She does. She’s published in Norwegian.”
From the corner of his eye, Ian saw Erik returning, his hand pressed to his stomach. “When do we eat?”
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