CHAPTER 3
Declan
“This is what’s going to happen,” I announce, pointing to Summer. “I’m turning the plane around and dropping you back at the Sweetbriar Airpark. Then, Bryttni and I are continuing on to Hawaii.”
“Cool, cool,” Summer says. “But you should know that this isn’t my idea. Jamie and Cal want us to get to Vegas in time to stop Evander and Phoebe from eloping. How do you plan on telling them you don’t feel like following orders?”
I squint down at her. Is Summer lying? Probably not, since she doesn’t lie, as a rule.
Liars either want to massage the facts to fit their agenda or they care how the truth might land with the listener. Summer’s never given two shits about any of that. She can make any agenda work for her, as is. And she doesn’t care what others think of her.
Summer always says whatever thought happens to be lined up on the runway of her tongue.
And if what she says about my dad and oldest brother is true, then I need to take a stand.
“My brother and father are not the boss of me.”
Summer laughs because, yeah, Dad and Cal are the bosses of everyone, even badass mo-fos such as myself.
It’s how the food chain works at Yosemite Ranch. The patriarch and the firstborn son lay down the law and enforce it. It’s a pecking order I challenge at my own peril. I’ve learned that shit the hard way.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it.
“Who are Evander and Phoebe?” Bryttni asks.
Summer jumps in before I can answer. I don’t care much, honestly. She’s as close to a MacLaine as a non-MacLaine can get. We’ve all seen her as part of our clan since she showed up looking for a ranch job when she was in high school.
“Evander is Declan’s middle brother. There’s a total of five of them.”
“Five? Five men like Declan?” Bryttni’s eyes pop open so violently that I expect to see her fake lashes fly off and stick to a sidewall panel.
“They’re not as annoying as Declan, but yes, five. And Evander’s in love with Phoebe, the nurse from the next ranch over, the cutest and nicest woman ever.”
“But how do you know they’re eloping?” Bryttni poses her question to Summer. It’s like I’m not even here at this point. “Aren’t those things supposed to be secret?”
“Well, here’s how it went down,” Summer says. “Evander let it slip that he wanted to elope with Phoebe, and then a few days later, bam! They’re not at home. Not at work. Nowhere. And Evander’s fancy car is missing.”
“Ohhhh,” Bryttni says, nodding.
“Which means they were either abducted by aliens or they ran off to Vegas to get married.”
“Right.” Bryttni frowns. “But I know a girl who was taken by the Grays. She says they’re nothing but robots working for their giant Mantis overlords.”
Summer’s eyes flash to me. I shrug, because, why not? A woman as hot as Bryttni can believe anything she wants. She’s already told me she packed a thong swimsuit—a crochet thong swimsuit—so I can overlook the Mantis thing.
“Maybe they’re eloping to Hawaii,” I offer.
“Nice try,” Summer says.
“I absolutely love Vegas!” Bryttni claps her hands. “They give you free drinks when you play slots, did you know that? Good drinks, too. The ones with the little umbrellas.”
“No shit? Little umbrellas?” Summer bats her eyes at me.
“But they have beautiful flower leis in Hawaii,” I tell Bryttni. “I bet you’d love getting leid in Maui.”
Summer makes a gagging noise. I ignore her.
Bryttni reaches over and strokes her long nails down my forearm. “In Vegas, we could go to a magician show where he does impressions.” She flutters her lashes at me. I think I feel a breeze. “And the buffet at Caesar’s Palace—it’s got all-you-can-eat crab legs with real melted butter.”
Summer plops down in one of the passenger seats. I watch her swivel side to side. She’s laughing to herself. When she looks at me, I see the in-your-face haughtiness of a girl who thinks she’s won.
“Hear that, flyboy?” Summer points at me. “Bryttni wants crab legs instead of Kalua pork. If I were you, I’d be turning this puppy around and lining up at the buffet.”
“Oooooh! Are we really going to Vegas? Are we?” I look down at how Bryttni’s fingers grip my forearm. I imagine them gripping my dick.
I sigh. I’m at a loss as to why she’d prefer the Vegas Strip over Maui’s Black Sand Beach. But it’s not the end of the world. I can go to Hawaii any damn time I want. I have a house there.
“Sure. Why not? My jet, my rules, right?”
“Oh my gosh, this is so exciting! We’re going to Vegas, baby!” She pops up on her tiptoes and plants a flirty kiss on my lips. “Thank you, Declan. You’re such a sweetheart!”
“Yay!” Summer says, spinning in the chair. “Umbrellas, here we come!”
I get back in the cockpit and contact Oakland Center with a request for an amended flight plan.
The controller isn’t stoked about this, but she repeats my request and gives me new coordinates to plug in the GPS.
The controller will inform Harry Reid International in Vegas that I’m coming and tell Kahului in Maui to not expect me.
I turn in my chair to check on my passengers. Bryttni and Summer are engaged in an animated conversation, and I am pretty sure it must be about me, since I can’t imagine anything else those two women might have in common.
Bryttni is a party girl in a miniskirt. Summer is a horse-training cowgirl in a pair of dusty boots and worn jeans.
This is not at all how I imagined my Bryttni adventure would pan out. But I decide to make the most of it.
The good news—it’s New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas.
The bad news—it’s New Year’s Eve in Las Vegas.
I use my tablet to reach out to a few people who owe me huge favors.
This will be damn near impossible to pull off.
I need a last-minute high-roller hotel suite and luxury rental car, plus a hotel room for Summer.
And I need it on the biggest party night of the year in the biggest party town on the planet.
I also need dinner reservations, seats at a headliner magician show, and club access.
It’s a good thing I have friends in high places. Friends who’ve gotten freebie flights to destinations all over the globe and promised to do me a solid whenever I needed it.
That would be now.
Once the Vegas gears are greased and I’m confident the pieces will fall together in the next few hours, I think of how I can add a few personal touches for Bryttni.
My mission is to show this smokin’ hot ice cream scooper the time of her life on New Year’s in Vegas.
There’s no way I can fuck up that winning lottery ticket.
Summer is definitely the hiccup here. But I can handle her.
I think I can handle her.
Maybe I can’t totally handle her, but I can probably manage to stick her in a decent hotel room and hide her away.
Who am I kidding? I’m the one who feels like hiding.
The flash I saw in Summer’s eyes as she walked up the cabin aisle. She caught me with my pants down—literally—and I saw it written all over her face.
True, Summer was ready to puke, but it wasn’t just that.
I saw disappointment in her expression. Judgement. Summer might even have been hurt by what she saw. Either that, or she didn’t like the look of me in my boxer briefs.
I don’t know what to think. Except for one thing—what I saw in Summer’s eyes indicated a total lack of respect for me.
And that’s sliced me to the core.