Chapter Seven
Located on the penthouse level of the Emerald Ridge Hotel, Captain’s was the town’s five-star seafood restaurant.
It had a fantastic view from its floor-to-ceiling windows, and Oakley and his siblings would have a table overlooking the river.
For now, he waited in the bar, glass of bourbon held tight.
He’d kissed Rachel. What had he been thinking?
Despite being the only one at the high-top table, he rolled his eyes.
He was ashamed of himself. The answer was that he’d lost control.
He hadn’t been thinking. He’d kissed her as if he’d been a drowning man gasping for air.
He hadn’t been sweet or gentle, but rather rabid with need.
It had been the kiss to end all kisses, except that it should have ended before it began.
She’d told him no regrets. At least she didn’t consider the kiss that had rocked his world a mistake, or acted like it was unwanted.
She’d met him with the same ardor, her passion equal to his.
Yet somehow that made it even worse. He wanted more.
But how? She’d said it couldn’t happen again, and he’d agreed.
Even if they declared their desire for a relationship to HR—and Rachel was the type of woman who deserved a committed relationship, not a fling—could it even work between them?
While they worked well together, his ex-wife had declared him to be selfish. His business came first.
Since all his siblings were in town, he pushed the matter from his mind.
His older sister, Maisey, arrived first and kissed him on the cheek.
Like Cheyenne, who arrived next, thirty-five year-old Maisey was petite.
Unlike Cheyenne, though, she had long auburn hair and hazel eyes.
Avery was petite like her sisters, and Jagger was blond like Cheyenne, but he had the same hazel eyes as Maisey and the same height as Oakley.
Of the brothers, he was the playboy, preferring to play the field rather than settle down.
Both Oakley and brother Evanston were divorced and considered themselves once bitten, twice shy.
They shared that and their blue eyes. Oakley hoped his siblings wouldn’t sense anything was amiss, for where Rachel was concerned, Oakley was a mess.
So much so that he’d wanted to cancel the Friday night dinner, but refrained because he figured that would raise more red flags.
Especially after the siblings had scheduled it a while ago, and while they talked frequently, their in-person meetups were harder to arrange given everyone’s schedules.
It would be better once they all lived in Emerald Ridge.
The hostess led everyone to a rectangular table that was angled to provide maximum view. Their server took a drink order, but already having bourbon, Oakley passed. He’d have a glass of wine later with his meal.
“How are your classes going?” he asked Maisey.
“Great! I’m almost done. Soon I’ll be certified to be a foster mom. In fact, Poppy Fortune—well, Leonetti now—brought her son in and talked to us this week about the joys of fostering.”
“Maisey, that’s so wonderful,” Cheyenne said.
“You can always practice on mine, Auntie dear,” Avery offered. Her belly was still mostly flat, but she’d told the siblings about her pregnancy. Oakley was excited about becoming an uncle. He loved babies. Which, of course, made him think of Allie and her mom…
“What’s going on with you?” Oakley asked Evanston. Anything to get Rachel out of his head. His brother was a high-profile attorney in private practice who’d been both a prosecutor and a defense lawyer. Surely he’d have something to talk about.
“Just closed on that ranch I had my eye on,” Evanston replied. “I’m renaming it Fortune’s Cattle and going to keep it as prosperous as it’s been. That’s the plan anyway.”
“I’m certain you will make it happen,” Oakley told him.
“The two of you crack me up,” Jagger snorted. “You’re acting like eighty-year-old men with all this talk about settling down.”
“We’re in our thirties, as are you,” Oakley said.
“A recently turned thirty,” Jagger corrected. “Which, despite my old injury, does not mean I’m over the hill like the two of you think your thirties entail. Seriously. When did you both get so lame?”
“Ha ha,” Evanston deadpanned. “It’s called growing up. Something you should try, Mr. Love ’em and Leave ’em.”
“Seems to me you’re the ones getting left.” Jagger grinned, the barb successfully delivered.
“Jagger, apologize,” Cheyenne admonished. “No need to be mean.”
“Wasn’t being mean.” Jagger’s ensuing “sorry” was muffled.
Their server brought their drinks and glasses of water. When she returned and took their appetizer and dinner order, Oakley ordered two bottles of wine for the table. With Avery not drinking, two bottles meant a little over one glass for the rest of them.
“Let’s hope these Leonetti vintages are better than the ones Dad sent back,” Cheyenne huffed.
“Cheyenne, you know he was just being obstinate like he always is,” Maisey said sternly. “There was nothing wrong with that wine. You always defend him.”
“I do not.” Cheyenne’s protest came complete with a pouty lower lip.
“Sure you do,” Jagger piled on. “You’re the baby of the family. You don’t know him like we do.”
“He rifled through Johnny Doe’s pockets.” Oakley’s admission made Maisey and Avery gasp.
“He did what?” Evanston asked. “And we’re just hearing this now?”
“Sorry. Thought I’d told you. Cheyenne knew.”
After Oakley explained, Evanston shook his head and said, “Our father is a walking legal disaster.”
“He’s getting worse,” Maisey agreed. “That’s why I hoped Mewington would give him something else to occupy his time.”
“He did build him a catio,” Jagger said. “That cat is super spoiled.”
“It’s not enough,” Avery insisted. “Dad needs more than a cat to talk to.”
Oakley shrugged. “Well, he said he had some business ideas…”
“Oh no.” Maisey recoiled. “No more of that nonsense. He needs a hobby.”
Their server was back with several appetizers, and the conversation naturally shifted away from their father.
Discussing Clemons often put everyone in a sour mood.
They loved him, but at the same time, they wanted their father to be happy with life and enjoying himself in ways other than complaining and suing people.
“Any idea on who the amnesiac is?” Avery asked after their meals arrived. “You and Cheyenne saw him, right?”
“We did and no idea.” Oakley cut into his delicious filet mignon while he told them about giving his DNA and about how Johnny had called out their father’s name. “But our dad insists that he doesn’t know him.”
“Do you believe him?” Maisey asked.
“With our dad you never know,” Evanston interjected.
But before Oakley could answer, Cheyenne intervened. “Speaking of not knowing, he hasn’t told you about his new administrative assistant.”
Oakley glared at his baby sister. Trust Cheyenne to have held on to that bombshell until what she considered the right moment. She’d lobbed the news to draw attention away from their dad’s antics.
“What’s so special about an assistant?” Avery appeared confused. “She’s not the one you fired for harassment, is she?”
“No, she’s not and there’s nothing going on.” Oakley spoke too quickly.
“Oakley likes her,” Cheyenne said, giving Oakley a satisfied smirk. “You know that it’s true. Look, your cheeks turned pink. I didn’t know you could blush.”
“I’m not. It’s the bourbon.”
Evanston scoffed. “Oakley’s smart enough to know you don’t get your honey where you make your money. It’s bad business.”
“I hate that saying,” Maisey sputtered. “Could you not? It’s crass.”
“Sorry,” Evanston said. “But workplace romances are foolish.”
Considering he’d kissed Rachel, and she’d kissed him back, Oakley avoided saying anything more by sipping some wine, which, should anyone ask, had had all the right notes. It was a flawless vintage, same as the bottles their dad had sent back.
“There’s nothing wrong with hooking up if both sides agree to it,” Jagger said. “Aw. Do you have a crush, Oakley?”
“What are we, in high school?” Oakley shot back. The wine sloshed as he set the glass down with a thump.
Cheyenne tittered. “It’s more than a crush. Oakley had to beg her to return.”
“Wait, I’m coming into the middle of this story. Someone explain,” Avery demanded.
“Fine.” Oakley gave in and relayed what had happened. He included everything from how he’d discovered Rachel was the one Clemons had sued to the gifts he’d sent as his appreciation. He left out the kiss. He knew what his siblings would say about that, and he’d never hear the end of it.
“You bought her baby things?” Avery stared, incredulous. “You haven’t even bought me baby stuff yet.”
“And I will, after you’ve had your baby showers,” he said. “It’s not that big of a deal. At first, she wasn’t planning on keeping them, but now she is. I’d do the same for anyone.”
“Have you?” Maisey asked, voicing the same question Rachel had.
Evanston gave a disbelieving shake of his head.
“She’s got you over a barrel. You are paying an outlandish sum to an administrative assistant because you either like her or you feel guilty about our father.
Neither is a good reason.” Turning toward his brother, he muttered, “Darn, Oakley. What were you thinking? I thought you were smarter than this.”
He was thinking of the kiss and the way her silky hair had felt between his fingers…and how her bottom had fit so perfectly in his hands.
“She’s a great admin, and she’s not expecting to become Mrs. Fortune,” Oakley said. “I want to keep her around. That’s all it is.”
Evanston scoffed. “You’re a fool. How do you know she’s not simply waiting for you to do something so she can sue you? Did you ever think she might want revenge, especially since Dad’s frivolous suit almost bankrupted her? In fact, when she fired herself, you never should have rehired her.”
“She’s not going to sue me,” Oakley insisted. He couldn’t tell them why without bringing up the kiss.