28. Katherine
28
KATHERINE
“New plan,” I murmur, sinking deeper into the Adirondack chair and rolling my head toward Alex. “We don’t ever go back to the city.”
His lips twitch in a way that makes me want to curl up in his lap and kiss him, but unfortunately, we have an audience. And after what happened with Gabe in the maze. . . I’m not sure where I stand with either of them.
My belly is full from dinner, and now we’re gathered around the fire pit with blankets and bevvies. Beer for the guys. Chardonnay for me.
It’s a gorgeous night. The rain left the landscape clean and spring fresh. Lights from surrounding homes reflect off the lake. I’m going to smell like wood smoke later, but it’s worth it to make these memories.
Alex has positioned himself to my left, his big body dwarfing the wooden chair, and Gabe’s on my right, staring into the fire like it’ll answer the questions of the universe. On the other side of the fire pit, Ford and Sutton devour toasted marshmallows with the urgency of five-year-olds who won’t have a stomachache later.
“Don’t let you-know-who hear you talking like that,” Ford says, carefully arranging a hunk of chocolate atop a graham cracker.
“You know who?” Alex asks.
He’s been on alert since this afternoon when the news broke that Alex, Gabe, and I all live in the same building. Without me asking, he’s declared himself my protector. Maybe not in so many words, but he’s been my shadow as he worked with building security to make sure we’ll be safe when we return.
I used to bristle at the team that followed me around, reporting my movements to my mother. Telling me when and where I could go. Those old feelings crawl up my throat and threaten to strangle me.
But when Alex meets my gaze, the death grip falls away. I don’t feel stiffed with him. Or his men.
How odd.
“Our mother,” I say. “Ford doesn’t care for her.”
Alex narrows his gaze on my brother.
Part of me was a tiny bit worried about how the four men would get on. It feels like I’ve known Gabe and Alex forever, but that’s all observations from galas and the boardroom.
Ford and Sutton—because he’s always stuck to Ford’s hip—are protective of me, as only brothers can be.
But these four are getting on like mosquitos at a summer camp.
“To be fair, I don’t care for anyone who’s fake. Or a user,” Ford defends. He gives me that look. The ‘you know I’m right’ look. “Katherine is Mother’s crown jewel.”
“Ford—”
He laughs, plucking a caramel-colored marshmallow from his stick. “It’s true. She wants to put you in her pocket,” he says in a baby voice.
I roll my eyes. He’s not wrong.
“If she had pockets,” Sutton murmurs, and we all laugh because none of us have ever seen my mother wear pants, shorts, or jeans. Definitely not leggings. It’d probably blow her mind if she ever bought a dress that had storage.
“Our grandfather was not easily impressed. I’m afraid that’s just one of the traits he passed to her.”
“To put it mildly,” Sutton says, leaning back in his chair now.
“He also gifted her with his ‘win at any cost’ attitude.”
“Don’t forget ‘always maintain control.’”
Ford makes a sound of agreement .
My attention turns to Gabe. He had impressed Grandfather. His brain, his software, his vision. Of course, Henry Chanler would never say so in actual words, but it was obvious by the way he never let it go and was always reading the news articles about him. It really rubbed him raw that a ‘kid,’ as he called Gabe, was so popular. So brilliant and successful.
I doubt he saw all the hard work and sacrifice in Gabe’s life.
“He was an up at four in the morning person. Reading the papers. Reports. The man burned through assistants like cheap candles. Except for Sylvia.” A soft smile curves his lips, his gaze far off.
Sylvia had been more of a grandmother to us than any of the others who came through our lives.
The life he described seemed perfectly normal to me growing up. The long hours, endless reading, single-handedly keeping phone companies in the black.
Ford hasn’t said a word about our grandfather since the funeral. To me, anyway. Does he know what Grandfather put in his will? Does he have the same stipulation?
“He was hard on her.” It’s my voice now, adding to the history lesson.
“He was hard on everyone.” Ford reaches for his beer. “Did you ever meet him?”
He directs the question to Alex, who nods .
“A few times.” Alex’s gaze flicks to Gabe, whose hands are clamped over his knees.
Maybe one day I’ll hear his side of things, but I don’t need all the diabolical details to know my grandfather played dirty. He wielded power and money like swords and good luck to anyone who stood in his way.
When everything went down, Gabe was younger than I am now. No wonder my grandfather was impressed.
“I think we’ve let a dead man dominate the conversation enough,” I say, leaning forward. Gabe’s chin jerks in my direction, brows lifted. “May I have a s’more? It’s been ages since I’ve had one.”
Ford glances from Gabe to me and back. “Sorry, man.”
Gabe shrugs and drains his beer. He acts like it’s not a big deal, but that’s exactly what it is. An act. A charade to keep people from looking too deep, but I want to peel those layers and find the real Gabriel.
Marissa, my father’s chef, appears from the shadows with a fresh round of drinks and more chocolate. Blessedly, the conversation turns to brighter topics as Ford makes me a s’more.
Sutton and Gabe talk computers, which goes straight over my head. But as I watch the two of them, totally in their element, and nom my way through my dessert, I’m at peace.
I’ve missed this. The realization is whisper quiet, but I feel the truth. My soul is more content than it’s been in years. Maybe a decade.
A breeze sweeps across the lake, and I burrow deeper into my blanket as I scooch my toes closer to the fire.
“You cold?” Alex asks.
His words are an echo of Gabe’s earlier, and my cheeks heat as I nod. Gah, was it only an hour ago that I was in his lap, dry-humping him ’til I came? I feel Gabe’s gaze like a caress, and my body reacts as if he reached beneath the blanket and stroked my skin. Nipples hard, pussy wet, muscles supple and ready.
“She’s either freezing or burning up,” Ford says. “No in-between for Kate.”
Alex stands up. “Let’s scoot you closer.”
I start to get up, but he bends over, holding a hand just above my belly as he grabs the armrest with the other. He’s taking care of me. Again.
I see Gabe out of the corner of my eye, mirroring Alex’s motion, and then I’m zooming through the air like a feather. They deposit me and my chair about a foot closer so my feet reach the bricks surrounding the fire.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“So, how’s school?” I ask Ford and Sutton.
Sutton is a bit of a bookworm. “You sound like Pierce.”
I brace for the uneasy feeling that always comes over me when someone compares me to my father. But there’s nothing.
Just peace. And quiet.
“That’s not an answer,” I say.
Ford laughs. “Now you really sound like Dad.”
I give him my best big sister glare. No matter how twisted our family tree, I hit the brother lottery. Still, I stick my tongue out at him.
“No one told me there was a party,” a voice cuts through the night. A voice I instantly recognize. My head whips right, gaze searching, heart not believing my ears.
But they weren’t mistaken. My best friend saunters across the terrace into the yard.
I jump out of the chair, throwing the blanket to the side and launch myself into Kingston’s arms.
“You’re here! Ohmygod! When did you get in? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
He hugs me tight, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around, classic rom-com style, until I giggle.
As soon as my feet hit the grass again, he cups my cheeks with both hands. His light green eyes study me closely as if looking for sadness or fear. But all I feel is ecstatic.
My best friend is back.
His gaze drops to my lips, and my body goes on instant alert. Why is he looking at me like that, and why does it feel like time is slowing to a stop ?
“What are you doing here?” Please don’t let this all be a dream. I glance at Ford, who just gives me a shrug and smile, but he had to be in on it. Turning to Kingston, I pull him into another hug, then lean back.
Before I can introduce him to Alex and Gabe, he trails a thumb across my cheek. I freeze.
Then he ducks his head, blotting out the porch lights, his lips slanting across mine. I blink, startled. What?—
I ball my fists against his chest to shove him away, but his mouth is sinful, coaxing. Moving against mine like he won’t stop until my seduction is complete.
His hands clasp my waist, holding me steady, keeping me close.
This is not a hello-happy-to-see-you kiss. We sailed out of platonic territory about five seconds ago. With the right amount of pressure and the perfect angle, this kiss is the kind you dream of. It’s an ‘I missed you and I want you’ all rolled into one. He smells so familiar. Feels so familiar.
Just like all those years ago. . .
I push, and he lets me go.
Eyes wide, I suck in a breath as I stumble back, and the rest of the world comes crashing into focus. The fire. Alex, now standing and so watchful, and Gabe, brooding. Ford. Sutton. The lake glistening in the moonlight. The soft sounds of the evening.
My worlds are colliding .
Panic creeps up my skin, traveling along my shoulders. This cannot be happening.
The five men look as confused as I feel.
I dart across the lawn and up wide steps to the back porch, then through the door to the kitchen. Marissa looks up, startled by my sudden appearance, so I apologize and scurry through to the den, needing a moment alone.
What in the world?
I trace my lips with my fingertips.
Seriously. What in the world is going on?
Did I suddenly start producing kiss-me pheromones?
Is there a sign taped to my back?
Do they have some kind of bet? Okay, that one’s so crazy even I don’t believe it. But still. I have questions.
Why now?
“Katherine?” Kingston’s voice echoes through the house.
I close my eyes, wishing I could hide. I just need to figure this out. Whatever this is. This thing with Alex is so new and then there’s Gabe, which I did not see coming.
And now there’s Kingston. The boy from my past. My best friend. The man who has cheered me up numerous times, made me laugh, kept me sane, and sent me cereal from around the world because he knows it makes me happy .
He makes an effort to tell me about all the plants he comes across. And every time he sees my name, be it on a street sign or a menu, he snaps a pic and texts it so I know he’s thinking of me.
“Kat. . .” His footsteps pause on the wood floor behind me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”
He leaves the sentence hanging. Open-ended and unsatisfying.
He shouldn’t have what? Kissed me in front of an audience? Broken my heart six years ago?
I whirl to face him, my temper rising. “No. You shouldn’t have.” My answer is no more specific than his, and my heart freaking aches for all the years wasted. And how good he looks.
This is a moment straight from my fantasies. My best friend finally comes to his senses and shows up on my doorstep, sweeping me into his arms and declaring he can’t be apart from me again.
But this isn’t a romance novel, and Kingston isn’t the hero. Is he?
“Wildfire. . .” He steps closer, and I try not to crumble under the new nickname. Six years. He had six years.
I hold up a hand. It shakes.
“Don’t. Whatever it is you think is going to happen, just don’t.” God. I need a minute. I need air. And I will not have another freaking panic attack.
His jaw drops, and he pauses mid-step. “What do you mean? ”
My heart is getting a workout this week. Right now, it aches, and it really doesn’t like the direction of my thoughts.
I cover my face with my hands, then slowly massage the ache between my brows.
“Kat—”
“All this time, you could have come back. You could have fixed things between us.” I stare at him, wanting to be wrong. More certain by the second that I’m not. “Only when two gorgeous, wealthy, eligible men are interested do you show up? You have to see how suspicious that is. Why I can’t trust this. . .” I wave my finger back and forth between us.
“But—”
“Katherine—” Alex appears in the doorway. My savior. I sag with relief at the sight of him as he asks, “Everything okay?”
Bless him for his concern. One glance at the gorgeous giant filling the double door frame and I can tell it’s taking restraint on his part to not storm in and handle things. His hands hang at his side, curled lightly, as if ready to take action.
“Of course. I’d like to go back to Gabe’s house if you’re ready.”
“Kat—” Kingston sounds utterly wounded, and I know I shouldn’t, but I glance his way. Those soft green eyes that have always been so kind to me are filled with pain. Anxiety. And I hurt for him.
But he had six years to figure out his feelings for me, and he picked this moment? I’m already confused about what’s happening with Alex and Gabe. Not to mention the media circus surrounding the auction. Then there’s the will.
I just. . . I can’t deal with anything else right now.
“We’re ready,” Alex says.
He lifts a hand, and I stare from it to Kingston’s chest and back. Why does this hurt so badly?
My nose tingles with unshed tears, tears that I can’t let fall in front of these men. I have to be stronger than that, in control of my feelings and my destiny.
Stepping forward, I take Alex’s hand and let him lead me out of the house.