Chapter 2 #2
Great. Here we go.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, raising a hand in surrender, trying to keep things light. Alexander gives me one last pointed look and strides off toward the elevators, leaving a trail of command in his wake.
I glance back to find that another clerk has rushed over and is whispering something in the first clerk’s ear. He startles, glancing at Mia with wide eyes. “I’m so sorry ma’am, we’re having a room prepared for you immediately, we’ll let you know the moment it’s ready.”
Mia thanks him, and we step aside to let the next guest approach the counter. I glance at her, ready for another round of questions, and find her looking…lost? No, more like sullen, her mouth set in a little frown, confusion darkening her eyes as she stares after where my brother disappeared.
“You know that guy?” she asks, voice lowered, like she’s worried the staff will dock her points for fraternizing.
“Yeah. He’s my brother.”
She turns fully, jaw almost dropping. “Wait—your brother?” She glances from me to where Alexander disappeared, then back again. “So…he works here too?”
I snort, can’t help it. “Not exactly.” I watch her profile as she scans the lobby for a familiar face. “But wait—how do you know Alexander?”
She makes a face, rolling her eyes. “Long story. Met him at the rental place in Boston. He’s…well, he’s not a very nice person.” She folds her arms, almost hugging herself as the memory hits. “He was kind of a jerk to the clerk there too.”
I let out another snort, grinning as I haul her suitcase a little higher. “You can say that again,” I reply, pulling the duffel closer to my hip. “Alexander’s got all the charm of a tax audit before coffee.”
She lets out a tiny, reluctant laugh. “Figures. He definitely made an impression.”
Then she glances sideways at me, that little smirk creeping back. “And just so you know, you really can’t just bring in anyone you like. That’s not hotel policy. I mean, if you did work here, you could get in a lot of trouble for that.”
I raise an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh yeah? And you’d know all about hotel policy because…?” I let the words hang, inviting the punch line.
She doesn’t miss a beat, expression going flat and deadpan. “Because my family kind of owns this place.”
It takes a second to process, and I nearly drop the bag. “Wait—your family? You’re a Coines?”
She flashes me a look that’s half-smug, half-sheepish. “Guilty as charged.”
Suddenly it clicks. Sarah had mentioned, maybe a month ago on the phone, that her “bestie’s” family had offered to host the wedding at their mountain lodge, cover all the costs, make sure it was perfect.
I’d just assumed she meant some distant, boring cousin.
It never even crossed my mind it would be someone like her.
And now, as I look at her again, I get this half-formed memory: a gangly, scrawny girl from some long-ago Thanksgiving. Glasses slipping down her nose, braces, too-big sweater, always darting behind her father’s legs or hiding behind a book. Barely said a word the whole weekend.
But this woman in front of me now—she’s nothing like that shy kid. She’s grown into herself, confident even if she doesn’t always feel it, doe-eyed and stunning. Elegant but with a bite, and that same stubborn chin.
I clear my throat, suddenly feeling about a hundred years older and just a little foolish for not recognizing her sooner. “Sarah’s talked about you. I think I, uh…met you once. Ages ago. You were a little…smaller then.”
She snorts, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Yeah, well. I ate my vegetables.”
I grin, feeling some of my nerves fade. “Remind me to write your parents a thank-you card for that.”
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, but she’s smiling too.
“Well, it’s good to know who you are,” I say, laughing now. “Guess that means I’m definitely not charging you for bellhop services.”
She grins, all traces of awkwardness gone. “Good. You wouldn’t get a tip anyway.”
She glances up at me, curiosity knitting her brows. “So…how do you know Sarah, anyway?”
I smile. “She’s my niece. My sister’s kid.”
She slows, piecing it together. “Wait—Sarah is your niece? And that guy, the one with the world’s most intense scowl…he’s your brother?”
I nod, amused by the way she puts it. “Yep. That’s Alexander. Oldest of us. There’s another one somewhere around here, Marcus. All Birch brothers, all collectively responsible for Sarah—at least, that’s what our mother used to say.”
She digests this, gaze flicking from me to where Alexander disappeared. “So, if you’re brothers, and Sarah is your niece…that means Alexander and Marcus are her uncles too.”
“Exactly. Full family circus.” I gesture with her bag. “But don’t worry, we try to keep the juggling and flaming hoops to a minimum during weddings.”
She laughs, the sound soft but real. “And here I was, worried about just being the maid of honor. I didn’t realize I’d have to memorize a whole new family tree.”
“Stick with me,” I say, grinning. “I’m the fun uncle. Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.”
She grins back, her cheeks still pink from the cold and, maybe, from something else. “The fun uncle, huh? Do you do tricks, or just keep the kids from burning down the place?”
I give her my slowest, most dangerous grin, dropping my voice just for her. “I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy. I’ll teach you tricks, if you want. Or we can break a few rules together.”
Her lips part in surprise, but she doesn’t step away. Instead, she lifts her chin, all bravado. “I’m not afraid of a little trouble. You don’t seem like the type who plays it safe, anyway.”
Oh, she’s good. “You have no idea,” I say, letting my gaze drift over her—her perfect mouth, the curve of her jaw, the way her hair falls loose and soft, snow melting into little beads on her shoulders.
She notices me looking, and the air between us tightens—warm, electric, impossible to ignore. For a moment, the bustle of guests and staff blurs around us. I can feel her breathing, just a little faster, can see the question in her eyes: Is this real? Does he want me, or am I imagining it?
I take a half step closer, lowering my voice so it’s just for her. “You probably know this place better than I do, but if you ever want a tour, after hours, I know a few secret spots in this lodge. All the best places to get lost.”
Her breath hitches—subtle, but I catch it. She tilts her head, eyes dancing. “Is that a promise?”
“Only if you want it to be.” I’m close enough now that I can see the flecks of color in her eyes, see the tiny pulse beating at her throat.
She hesitates for the barest second, then lets herself smile—slow, wicked, just for me. “Maybe I do.”
God, she’s stunning. “Then it’s a date, princess.”
She laughs—low, a little breathless, her voice velvet-smooth. “You always move this fast, or is it just because you think you’re irresistible?”
I lean in, close enough to smell her perfume—soft, warm, a little wild. “Guess you’ll have to find out. I’ll warn you, though—I play to win.”
Her gaze lingers on my lips for a beat longer than necessary. “We’ll see about that.”
It takes everything I have not to kiss her right then, not to let my hands find her waist and pull her flush against me. But this moment, the promise hanging between us, is almost better than the real thing. Almost.
She shivers, and it has nothing to do with the cold.
For the first time since we arrived, I don’t care that my brothers are waiting upstairs, or that the chaos of this wedding is about to swallow us whole. Right now, it’s just us—and the night is suddenly full of possibilities.
She’s still smiling, but then her brow furrows, teasing. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you’re related to that guy.”
I laugh, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “I can see he was his lovely, charming self?”
She rolls her eyes, grinning. “If by charming, you mean terrifying. Does he always look at people like he’s sizing them up for a hostile takeover?”
“Pretty much.” I shrug, feigning innocence. “Don’t think too harshly of Alexander, though. He runs our company. Someone has to keep the rest of us in line.”
She arches an eyebrow, lips twitching. “And you don’t help?”
I put on my best mock-solemn face, waggling my eyebrows. “Oh, I help plenty. Mostly by staying out of his way. Some would say that’s a public service.”
She laughs, head tipping back, and the sound makes something hot and reckless spark in my chest. “That’s a talent in itself. Not everyone can dodge a CEO’s glare and live to tell about it.”
“Occupational hazard,” I say, grinning. “You learn to roll with the punches. Or duck.”
She gives me a sly look. “So what is your role, then? If you’re not the bellhop, or the reservations police?”
I lower my voice conspiratorially. “Officially? I’m here for moral support, emotional chaos, and quality control of the bar. Unofficially…I guess I’m just the guy you run into when you need rescuing from overzealous desk clerks and big brothers.”
She laughs again, the flush in her cheeks deepening. “Good to know. I’ll keep you on speed dial.”
“Speaking of, you should let me buy you a drink later. Call it a peace offering for my family’s rough welcome.” I can’t help the way my gaze lingers on her lips.
She smiles, soft and just a little daring. “Well, I think I can accept that. Besides, something tells me we’ll see plenty of each other at these wedding festivities. It all starts tonight with the welcome dinner, right?”
“Absolutely.” I let the promise settle between us, the heat and the thrill of something new. “Save me a seat. Or better yet, let me save you one.”
She gives me a look that could melt the snow outside. “We’ll see who’s rescuing whom.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Careful, I’m very competitive.”
“Good,” she murmurs, eyes sparkling. “I like a challenge.”
As I leave her to rejoin my brothers, I’m grinning like an idiot, heart pounding as I realize that this weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting.