Chapter 7 – Eden
EDEN
As I perch on the barstool, I pretend to read some article about an attempt to rescue endangered sea turtles on my phone. Really, though, I'm eavesdropping on Luke chatting with my brothers.
My brothers, who slept on the living room floor last night, wrapped in the sleeping bags they threw in the back of the Reed’s truck. Brinley offered them her bed while she went to Beau’s place, but they insisted that it would be rude to get her sheets dirty.
Please. It's obvious they stayed on the floor for one reason: to catch me if I tried to sneak off to meet up with my new fake boyfriend.
They still haven't decided whether they trust Luke yet, so they're still busy with Mission: Protect Eden from Evil Men.
They can suit themselves. If they're stupid enough to throw out their backs sleeping on the ground, I'm not going to save them from themselves. Based on how grumpy they looked trying to work the coffeemaker the next morning, they didn’t sleep great.
Still, they couldn't help perking up when we arrived at the Twisted Devil distillery with Brinley in tow.
I was impressed myself. Luke greeted us at the door, his deep brown leather jacket playing off the warm wood of the tasting room inside.
The bar feels like an old European pub where the professors meet near a centuries-old university, with sturdy wooden tables and stained glass mixed with the warehouse windows.
This might work, I thought. My brothers, Wade especially, are going to be impressed enough with Twisted Devil that they won’t have time to notice that Luke and I are more polite old friends than a hot new couple.
Until Luke greeted me by brushing his lips against my cheek. I practically jumped out of my skin at the soft touch, making Jasper frown at me in concern and Wade’s eyes narrow suspiciously.
I spent the rest of the tour overcompensating, gluing myself to Luke’s side and batting my eyes flirtatiously whenever he explained barrel rotation or malting grains.
I looped my arm through Luke’s and pretended to be fascinated when Wade quizzed him about barley crops and fermenter brands.
I even giggled at a terrible joke Luke made about hops, earning eye rolls from my brothers.
We’ve been here for two hours now, and I’m still convinced that at any minute, Reed’s going to declare, “You’re a shitty actress. You two were never dating.”
“You know, if you want anyone to think you're actually reading that, you should probably scroll down at some point,” Brinley says from her seat next to me.
I shush her. “I’m trying to hear them!”
“What's there to hear? Wade's just asking Luke about his staff turnover. Don’t worry—Luke’s saying it’s low.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously. Wade acts like he’s still the foreman even when he’s off the ranch. I’m surprised Luke hasn’t lost his voice from answering the interrogation.”
In fact, Luke smiles as easily as ever, like the Lockes are old friends instead of suspicious busybodies looking for any sign of weakness.
There’s no tension in his posture. Next to my brothers, other men tend to either slump their shoulders in defeat or puff out their chests in challenge. Luke looks shockingly at ease.
Maybe it’s the fact that they don’t tower over him.
He’s as tall as Wade and Jasper, and Reed’s height doesn’t seem to cow him.
He doesn’t have that guardedness that city people tend to have around real country folk.
I have a feeling he’d be walking the same way at Locke Ranch as he does here in Toronto.
“Well?” I ask as they approach. “What did you think?”
Reed takes a swig of the glass he’s already holding. “It’s good. You don’t ship this shit to Sundre, do you?”
“Not yet. That’s a new cherry wood blend I’m working on with our master distiller. But once it’s bottled, I’ll ship you some,” Luke promises.
“I don’t mean the whiskey,” I clarify. “You've been drinking it for two hours, so I know you like it. What do you think of the whole place?”
Wade grunts. “It’s in good shape.”
Jasper’s mouth drops open, while Reed chokes on his whiskey. Wade isn’t exactly a guy known for giving positive feedback. From him, “in good shape” is practically a five-star, raving endorsement.
“Thanks,” Luke says. “I’m always happy to talk whiskey. Come back any time.”
“Is that you kicking us out?” Reed quips.
Luke shakes his head. “Of course not. Please, stay as long as you want.”
“Don't say that,” Jasper advises. “Reed will drink you out of warehouse and home.”
“We should be going anyway,” Wade grunts. “We’ve got a flight to catch.”
Relief floods through me as we stroll toward the exit.
Wade hasn’t canceled their tickets, which means they bought my performance.
I was supposed to go with them when Brinley drives them to the airport, but it’s probably best for me to eliminate any chances of accidentally blurting out the wrong thing.
“Actually, I’m gonna stay with Luke, if that’s okay.” I raise my brows at the Lockes. “Since some people rudely interrupted our date last night.”
Wade sighs and pulls me into a tight hug. “Just remember to call Mom.”
“I will,” I promise.
“Make sure you read that article I sent you about the woman who got kidnapped in Quebec,” Jasper says. “I know you didn’t read it the first time.”
“I will.” That one’s a lie.
Reed pats me on the back. “And don’t forget, you owe me forty bucks.”
“What? No I don’t!”
“Poker game, 2019. You lost on a pair of jacks. A Locke and a Lannister never forget.” Reed turns to Luke then, giving him a look that’s some combination of I see you and good luck with my sister.
As the guys leave, Brinley pauses and mutters, “See you back at the apartment in a bit? Then you can tell me what really happened.”
I nod. I know I owe her an explanation for what I was doing in that elevator with her brother. First, though, I should probably have a conversation with said brother, considering that I have no idea where we stand.
When the door closes behind Brinley, Luke locks it.
For the first time since those elevator doors opened, Luke and I are alone with nothing but the ambient sound of the distillery. Humming air conditioners, the whir of a dishwasher, and pure awkward silence.
Luke clears his throat and strides over to the bar, where he pulls out two glasses. He's halfway through filling the second one with straight whiskey when he looks up at me. “Sorry, did you want a mixer?”
“No, thanks.”
He finishes the pour, then tops us both off with a few drops of water. I know from the tour that it should bring out the whiskey’s aroma. He hands me my glass and takes a seat at a barstool. I sit next to him.
Then, I get to enjoy a long beat of silence as we both try to figure out how to act. Other than at the St. Regis yesterday, I can’t remember the last time Luke and I were alone together, without anyone else in the room.
“So,” he says.
“So,” I reply. “How did it go with my brothers? I didn’t hear all your conversation.”
“Oh, you know.” He shrugs. “Wade showed me the knife he planned to castrate me with if I took your virtue. It’s serrated, for the record.”
I perform a literal facepalm. I know Luke isn’t joking about that knife, because Wade has shown it to every boy who ever looked twice at me. “I’m so, so sorry Luke. My brothers are insane. Clinically. Which is most of the reason I’m still a virgin.”
“Makes sense. Reed told me that my rope days are over, too. That a real man wouldn’t sleep with you until you made a serious commitment to him.
” Luke taps his ring finger suggestively.
“Don’t worry. I convinced them you’re not just another notch on my bedpost. They may or may not be planning our wedding as we speak. ”
I groan. “Those hypocrites! All of them have gotten around plenty, but I have to wear a chastity belt?”
“You’re right,” Luke says with surprising vehemence. “You’re a grown woman. It’s none of their goddamn business, and you’re allowed to do whatever the fuck you want.”
“Even sell my virginity to a stranger?” I can’t resist adding.
Luke sighs. “It’d really rather you didn’t, if it’s all the same to you. So, are we really in a relationship now?”
“As far as my brothers are concerned,” I say, shrugging. “They bought it.”
“Right, but they’re gone now. We could go back to being friends and pretend this whole thing never happened.”
I examine his placid expression. “Is that what you want?”
He shrugs. “I just think this isn’t over. Your brothers are smart guys. If they don't see any evidence of us dating, they’ll assume you were lying. Then they’ll come straight back here to drag you home to Sundre.”
I wince because he’s right. My brothers won’t be satisfied without significant, extended proof. “Well, damn.”
Luke sips his drink. “Exactly. I don’t think we have a choice, unless you’re ready to give up starting that business.”
“Right. I’m kind of stu…but you’re not. Why would you go through all that trouble? What do you get out of it?”
“My ass, unbeaten by your brothers,” he jokes, and I roll my eyes.
“You're a public figure,” I continue, ignoring him. “Peppermint is dead, but you’re still in the Toronto gossip rotation. I'm a nobody. If people find out we're having a fake relationship, you're the one who will end up publicly humiliated, not me.”
“Exactly.” He glances up at me, and in the afternoon light, his blue-green eyes look greener.
“I lost the biggest deal of my career when that Peppermint article went viral. Twisted Devil is still growing, but we still haven’t caught up to where we would be if the Air Canada deal didn’t collapse.
The liquor industry is still surprisingly conservative, which means I need an image makeover. ”
“What, like a wardrobe upgrade?”
“No, like a girlfriend.” He gestures down at his perfectly fitted dark jeans and soft ivory sweater. “The wardrobe is perfect.”