“Wait!” Josie required clarification. “You’re saying you had sex with Weston?”
Alex slapped both hands over her mouth and muttered through her fingers, “Could you please just forget I said that?”
“No,” her aunt and her sister replied in unison.
Josie added, “You did say it. Admit it.”
Reluctantly, she nodded. “Yes, after the wedding Sunday night, I had sex with Weston.”
Her sister and her aunt turned their heads in unison—to gape at each other this time. When they looked at Alex again, Josie said, “Well. Um. Good for you.”
“And good for Weston,” said Auntie M with a determined nod. “He’s a lucky man to get a chance with you.”
“You two seemed to get along great together,” added Josie, sounding both insistent and weirdly uneasy.
Alex glanced from her sister to her aunt and back to her sister again. “I love you guys—but you really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Okay...” Josie spoke more cautiously now. “So tell us. Bring us up to speed.”
Alex chewed on the corner of her lip as she tried to decide how much to say. Should she mention what had happened on Payton and Easton’s wedding night last January? Probably not. That had been a rough night for West, which made it a story for him to tell, not her. “Well, it’s not a relationship or anything...” Ugh. That sounded awful in the wimpiest possible way. “What I mean is, West and I, we do have a connection, I guess you could say. We like each other, we do, but...” Dropping her head back, she groaned at the ceiling. “I should never have said anything.”
Chair legs scraped the floor as her aunt and her sister jumped up at the same time.
“Yes, you should!” Auntie M bent close and hugged her on one side.
Josie grabbed her on the other. “Whatever you need, that’s what we’re here for.”
Alex slipped one arm around each of them and squeezed right back. “You guys—this. Right now. With both of you. The love and the acceptance and the understanding. That’s what I need. And that’s what you give me.”
“Oh, baby.” Auntie M pressed a kiss to her cheek as Josie hugged her tighter.
Alex allowed herself a minute to bask in all the unconditional love before suggesting, “I know it’s only lunchtime, but wine would be good.”
Auntie M opened a bottle and they shared it. They laughed together over the vagaries of love and relationships and one-night stands.
Alex confessed, “I really have no idea how to explain this thing with West. I don’t really understand it myself.”
“And that is o-kay!” Josie raised her glass and knocked back a mouthful.
“When you know, you know,” announced Auntie M.
Alex laughed. “But I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you guys.”
“And you don’t have to know,” said Josie.
“Do you regret Sunday night?” asked Auntie M.
She realized she might be a tiny bit freaked out about it. But regret it? She didn’t. Not in the least. “Nope. Not one bit.”
Josie raised her glass. “To great men and excellent sex!”
They all three drank to that.
After which, Josie said, “There is one little thing, though...”
Her tentative tone alerted Alex. “You’re about to say something I don’t want to hear, aren’t you?”
“Well, it’s only, what about Payton?”
“What about her?”
“Alex, I really think you need to tell Payton what happened with you and West.”
All the happy, wine-drenched feelings drained right out of her. She slid a glance at Auntie M, hoping for support. Though support for what, exactly, she wasn’t sure. Auntie M kept her mouth shut—because she was older and wiser and knew when to just sit there and let things play out.
Alex asked Josie, “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because if you don’t, we all three have to keep your secret from our sister. That means Payton will be in the dark and we will know what’s going on in this situation that involves you and her brother-in-law and that will drive a wedge between us. And that’s not healthy.”
“Good point,” said Auntie M softly.
Alex closed her eyes. She breathed slow and deep. “Yep. I never should have told you two.”
“But you did,” replied Josie. “And you needed to. And now you need to tell our sister, as well.”
“You know she’s going to turn right around and tell Easton.” When Josie winced, Alex pressed her point. “And that could go poorly in so many ways.”
“It’s better to be honest and you know that, Alex. You just need to put it right out there and work through the blowback.”
“You can say that when you’ve slept with your sister’s husband’s brother.”
“Okay, when you put it that way, you make sleeping with West sound slightly...reprehensible.”
“Ya think?”
“Alex, what I’m getting at is that it’s just in your mind. Why shouldn’t you spend a night with West? Why shouldn’t he have a night with you? He’s single. You’re single. There is nothing at all wrong with what happened between you.”
“Great. There’s nothing wrong with it. So why does my baby sister have to know about it?”
Josie just looked at her, pleading with those big amber eyes of hers. Auntie M was no better, all the stuff she hadn’t said was right there on her face. Auntie M agreed with Josie, but no way would she speak up and make it two against one.
“All right.” Alex slid her phone from the thigh pocket of her leggings. “I’ll text her.”
Josie just looked at her.
Alex surrendered. “Fine. Not the kind of information that should be delivered via text. Calling Payton right now.” She brought up Payton’s contact and hit the call icon as Josie mouthed, Thank you.
Payton answered on the first ring. “Hi. What?”
Alex knew that tone of voice. “You’re writing. I’ll call back later.”
“No. Work can wait. Talk to me.”
Alex glanced from Josie to her aunt. They both stared at her through wide eyes. “I’m just going to say it. I slept with Weston on Sunday night.”
There was a moment of echoing silence. Finally, Payton asked, “Did you have a good time with him?”
Alex smiled. What had she been worried about? Payton never had been the least bit judgmental about relationships or sex. “I had a great time, yes. I like West. We had lots of fun—at the wedding and then for the rest of the night.”
“Do you regret having sex with him?”
Her answer hadn’t changed since Auntie M asked her earlier. “No. I don’t regret it.”
“But it’s been on your mind?”
“Yes. Yes, it has.”
“And you felt you just had to tell me about it today for some reason?”
“No. I needed to talk about it.”
“Okay, yeah. That makes sense. So you called me.”
“Not exactly. I told Auntie M and Josie and they said I had to tell you or we would all be keeping it from you and that would be wrong.”
“They’re standing right there, staring at you, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Put me on speaker.”
Alex hit the speaker icon. “You’re on speaker—and, Payton, I’m really hoping that you don’t feel you have to tell Easton. This is just getting too strange and I can’t believe I didn’t keep it to myself.”
“Oh, come on,” said Payton.
“Yeah,” Josie spoke up. “Who else would you tell?”
Auntie M was nodding. “We’re here for you. We love you.”
“And I love you—but, Payton, do you have to tell Easton?”
Payton took too long to answer. “I’m sorry, Alex. But yeah. I kind of do. It may sound self-righteous, but honesty is everything with Easton and me.”
Alex blew out a slow, resigned breath. “Not self-righteous at all. And I kind of figured you’d say that.” She glared at Josie, who at least had the grace to look sheepish.
“But don’t worry,” Payton said. “Easton will be fine with it.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Well, I’m fine with it.”
“Yeah, but, Payton, you’re not a guy.”
“Isn’t that maybe just a little bit sexist?”
Josie let out a snort of laughter. “Yeah, and maybe also just a little bit true.”
“Josie,” Payton said sternly. “Easton is not going to overreact. Alex, you and Weston have done nothing wrong. And I will make certain that Easton understands and accepts that you’ve done nothing wrong and what two consenting adults do in private is nobody else’s business. You’ll see. Easton will be fine about this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I know my own husband.” Payton sounded so confident.
Alex tried to take comfort in that. “One more thing. Joyce and Myron. Please don’t tell me they have to know, too.”
Payton didn’t even pause to think about it. “Forget that. They never need to know. I mean, honesty matters, but telling Joyce and Myron is a bridge too far.”
“Well, that’s something at least.”
“It’s all going to work out great, you’ll see.”
Back at the guest cottage an hour later, Alex paced the floor.
She wanted to believe Payton, but what if Payton was wrong and Easton reacted badly when he found out about Sunday night? Alex cringed at the thought.
And that had her realizing that West deserved a heads-up.
A moment later, she remembered that she didn’t have his number.
For a good ten minutes, she vacillated—sit back and let it play out? Or find a way to let the guy know that she’d opened her big mouth?
Somehow, not having his number made the situation even worse. Really? How could she have spent two spectacular nights in bed with him and never thought to get a number?
Finally, Alex texted her aunt. I think I should warn West that Payton is telling Easton we slept together. Do you have Weston’s number?
Auntie M had an actual spiral-bound address book. And she had everybody’s number in more ways than one. The phone rang in Alex’s hand.
Alex answered with, “No, West and I did not exchange numbers.”
Auntie M asked gently, “Sweetie, do you want me to come over there?”
“Thank you and I love you, but no. What I need is to call West so he knows what’s going on.”
“Hold on.” Thirty seconds later, Auntie M rattled off the number. As Alex entered it into her phone, her aunt asked, “You sure you’re all right, Alexandra?”
“I am, yes.” Total lie. But she’d set this crap in motion and she wasn’t going to start whining about it now.
“I’m here if you need me,” said Auntie M. “Right now or anytime. Just say the word.”
“I know. And you always have been and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” She said goodbye and called West before she could chicken out.
He didn’t pick up. No surprise. Even if he wanted to hear from her, he wouldn’t recognize the number. She should have texted.
But it had already gone to voice mail. “This is Weston. Leave a message.” She smiled like a doofus at the sound of his recorded voice and it took her a minute after the beep to start talking.
When she hung up, she tossed the phone down on the coffee table, pressed her hands to her flaming-hot cheeks and wondered what could have possessed her to imagine it would be a good idea to tell her aunt and Josie that she’d had sex with West.
Weston sat at his desk at Wright Hospitality crunching the numbers for a potential acquisition—a small resort in Palm Springs called Tres Palmas—when his cell lit up.
He glanced at the screen. Voice mail. Probably a spam call. He went ahead and checked it anyway.
“Hi, West. It’s Alex.” The sound of her voice had him wishing it were still Sunday night. She rattled off a number. “Would you give me a call, please, as soon as you get a chance? We need to talk. We’ve got a little family issue you should know about.”
Alex. With a family issue?
Wary, intrigued—and ridiculously pleased that she’d reached out whatever the reason—he rose from his desk and went to the window. He stared out on Puget Sound as he called Alex back.
“Hello, Weston.” The weary tone of her voice did not reassure him.
“You okay?”
“I’m just going to say it.” She swiftly explained that her sisters and her aunt Marilyn now knew where he’d spent Sunday night. According to her, none of them had a problem with that. “Payton insisted she has to tell Easton. She swears that your brother won’t be bothering you about it.”
“Of course she does.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Gingerly, she suggested, “There’s good news, too.”
“So glad to hear that.”
“The three of us agreed that your parents never have to know.”
“Well, that’s something, at least.” He should leave the past out of this. But he had to know. “What about East and Payton’s wedding night last January? Did you tell them about that, too?”
“No! I didn’t. That’s different.”
Remembering that night pressed on a tender spot down inside him. “Different, how?”
“Just not my story to tell, I guess.”
Damn. He really did like this woman. A lot. “Thank you.”
“West, I really am sorry that I told them about Sunday. I’m not sure why I didn’t just keep my mouth shut.”
Someone rapped on his office door. “Hold on a second, would you?”
“Of course.”
The phone still at his ear, he turned from the window, strode to the door and pulled it wide. His brother stood on the other side looking ready to kick some ass. “East. That was quick.”
Down on the farm, Alex moaned, “I knew it.”
“I’ll call you right back as soon as I handle this situation.” He hung up.
His brother stepped forward, grabbed the door and shut it harder than necessary behind him. “What the hell are you doing, sleeping with Alex?”
West frowned as he considered that question.
And the more he considered, the more this whole thing pissed him the hell off. “You know, East. It’s really not your business what Alex and I do in private. We’re both single. No one is waiting at home for either of us.”
He realized his frown had morphed into a grin when Easton demanded, “What are you smiling about?”
“It just occurred to me that you’ve got no damn room to talk.” Before East could lay down a lecture, West went on, “Aren’t you the guy who had a fling with Payton and then failed to get her number or her last name, which meant that years went by before you finally found her again and learned you had twin sons?”
Both of Easton’s hands curled to fists at his sides. He didn’t throw a punch, but he wanted to. Bad.
West almost felt sorry for him. “All right. That was uncalled-for. I know that was a tough five years for you—and for Payton. And as for your burning need to punch me out...” He spread his arms wide. “If it will make you feel better, take your shot.”
East scowled. “I can’t.”
West guessed, “Because Payton made you promise not to?”
“Don’t give me that smirk.”
West shook his head. “I can’t help it. You should see your face.”
“What were you thinking? Just tell me that.”
“What do you want from me? I like Alex. She likes me. We’re not hurting anybody. We’re both responsible adults. There is no reason we can’t do whatever we damn well please together.”
“West. Wake the hell up. You mess around with her and then you get bored and she gets hurt and we all pay the price because there’s trouble in the family.”
“You don’t know that’s what’ll happen.”
“I know that you’re not interested in anything serious with a woman. And I know that Alex has issues right now. She’s trying to figure out what to do with the rest of her life. You won’t help her if you go making things even more complicated for her than they already are.”
Was that true? Was he a bad influence? Or did he offer just what she needed right now—someone to laugh with, someone to hold, someone to lighten things up when she might be feeling down? Not everything went on forever. Sometimes you just had to reach out and grab on to a good thing for as long as it lasted.
He could hear her husky voice in his head. And here I was hoping for a Christmas affair...
He wanted that. He wanted it bad—the two of them, together, doing whatever the hell they felt like doing. He wanted her, wanted to take her up on her offer, wanted her in his arms every night till the New Year. Why shouldn’t they have what they both wanted?
East said, “I don’t like that look on your face.”
“Too bad.”
“Just tell me you’ll leave her alone from now on.”
“I think you’re over the line here, my brother. Alex and I, we’re the ones who’ll decide about that.”
Alex sat on the sofa with her phone in one hand and a vodka tonic in the other. The phone rang. West. She answered before it could ring a second time. “Hi. Be honest. Is everything okay?”
“More or less. East really wanted to punch me in the face, but Payton made him promise not to.”
“I don’t believe this is happening.” She knocked back a big sip of her drink.
“I hear ice cubes rattling. You broke out the scotch.”
“Vodka, but yeah. Drowning my sorrows. Swimming in liquor and regret. Beating myself up for opening my big fat mouth.”
He chuckled, the sound sexy and deep. “It’s not that bad. Nothing happened with East. He and I just cleared the air.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means everything’s okay up here in Seattle and you need to stop being so hard on yourself.”
“Humph.”
“Alex. Tell me the truth. Are you okay?”
“I am, yeah. I’m just not all that thrilled that everyone knows what we were up to Sunday night—even if I am the one who opened her big fat mouth about it.”
“Hey. I meant what I just said. Everything’s fine here.”
“Please. Your brother wanted to put his fist through your face.”
“Like that hasn’t happened before—but there’s a bright side. He didn’t. And he’s not going to. It’s all good.” He teased, “You should watch the day drinking, though. That can be a slippery slope.”
She raised her glass to him, even though it wasn’t a video call and he couldn’t see her do it. “I promise I’ll only have this one.”
“All right, then. I’m holding you to it.” She thought how happy she was to hear his voice again. And then he asked, “You sure you’re okay?”
She pressed the cold glass to her suddenly hot cheek. “More or less. I’m not sure why I told Josie and Auntie M about us. Honestly, I’ve never been someone who can’t keep her business to herself. But we were talking, me and Josie and Auntie M, and... I don’t know. I just went ahead and told them.” She set the half-full drink on the coffee table and stared at the tree in the window.
“Alex, are you sorry about Sunday night?”
“No! West, I’m not. It was a great night.”
“Damn right it was.” His voice had gone deliciously rough. “And that stuff I said when I was leaving, I apologize for that. I didn’t know what to say. I opened my mouth and a bunch of garbage came out.”
“There’s no need to apologize. You felt what you felt—just like I felt a little let down that you were leaving.”
“Yeah?” The question rubbed all her nerve endings in a really lovely way.
“Yeah. West, I had this feeling...”
“Tell me.”
“You don’t need to hear this. You really don’t. I shouldn’t have told them. It only made trouble between you and Easton.”
“He’ll get over it. And sometimes honesty really is the best way to go.”
“Yeah. I’ll tell myself that, why not?”
“And while you’re at it, tell me about this feeling you had.”
She wished she hadn’t promised herself not to have a second drink. “We probably shouldn’t go there.”
“Alex. We’re going there. You know that we are.”
She had shivers down her arms—and that fluttery feeling in her belly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that Sunday night flat-out wasn’t enough.”
“Oh.” It came out soft. Breathless.
“Miss me?” he asked. “At least a little?”
“Maybe a tiny bit. I definitely felt let down when you left.”
“Because this thing with us, it’s not done yet.”
“You feel that way, too?”
“Didn’t I just say that Sunday night wasn’t enough?”
“Yeah. You did...”
There was a beep on his end of the line. “Hold on. I’ve got to see what this is.”
“I should just let you—”
“Don’t go anywhere, Alex. I’ll be half a minute, tops.” He was as good as his word. Thirty seconds later, he said, “Hey. I do have to go. It’s one of those work calls I have to take...”
She reminded herself that she did not feel disappointed he had to hang up, not in the least. “That’s all right. See you at Christmas, West.”
“Yes, you will. I can’t wait.”
West wrapped up his call and went back to working on the numbers for Tres Palmas. At three, he met with the top people in accounting and then with the head of HR.
But his mind wasn’t on the job.
He wanted to see Alex.
And he didn’t want to wait till Christmas. He wasn’t the patient one—that was East.
Back when they were growing up, East would never sneak a peek under the tree. When Christmas morning came, every present with his name on it looked spanking fresh and festive, no rips in the pretty paper, every ribbon shiny and new, tied just so.
West’s presents? They always looked like some little mouse had chewed on them, the tape pulled away from the paper, a hole or two in the wrapping at the corners, the ribbons all tattered and torn.
His mother would sigh and his dad would lecture him.
Then the next year, he would do it all over again. He never could wait till Christmas morning to find out what he was getting.
He felt that way about Alex right now.
Only more so. Because he already knew exactly what he would be getting—and he could not wait to get it again. She’d offered him Christmastime. Why shouldn’t he reach out with both hands and take it?
By five, he’d made up his mind.
East stuck his head in at five thirty. “We good?” West looked up from his desk—and Easton knew. He stepped all the way into the office and shut the door. “You’re going back down to Wild Rose, aren’t you?”
West shut his laptop. “You know I’ve got vacation days piled up. The holidays are a good time to use them. I’ll put in a couple of all-nighters to make sure everything’s caught up and I’ll drive down Saturday, stay until New Year’s. Whatever absolutely has to get done here in the next month, I can deal with remotely. I’ll fly back and forth for any meetings I can’t miss.”
“You’re giving me your itinerary?” demanded Easton. “That’s not what I’m talking about.” East dropped to the leather sofa on the south wall, raked both hands back through his hair—and then popped up to his feet again. He paced the floor. “I don’t believe this. I can’t even beat the crap out of you right now. Payton made me promise not to throw a single punch.” He stopped in front of Weston’s desk. “Let’s go to Oliver’s.” The famous bar was located nearby, in the lobby of the Mayflower Park Hotel. “We’ll talk.”
“I’m not going to change my mind, East.”
They went to Oliver’s anyway. The drinks were great. Easton pulled out all the stops. West held firm.
That night at his place, he called Alex.
“West.” She sounded happy to hear his voice. “What’s going on?”
They talked for an hour.
He knew he should tell her that he planned to drive down to the farm early Saturday morning—and stay right there in the cottage with her until the New Year.
But he wanted to surprise her. And he wanted to be there, right in front of her, to see the look in her face when he showed up.
Alex had no trouble saying what she wanted. If she wanted him gone, he’d just turn around and come home.
Yeah, it did occur to him that East would tell Payton of his plans and Payton would tell her sister. So what? He still hoped he might get to surprise Alex, to watch her reaction when he breezed in the cottage door.
Thursday night, he worked until eight. He called Alex during the drive home.
She told him that her aunt Marilyn and Ernesto had left that day for Salinas.
“So,” he said. “Now it’s just you, alone, at Wild Rose Farm?”
“No, I am not alone. Clark Stockwell and his sweet dog, Big Nose, are here. And Josie and Miles are right next door. I had dinner over there tonight.”
“So you’re not feeling lonely, then?”
“Nope. I reached out to an old high school friend. We’re meeting for happy hour at a place she likes in Hood River tomorrow night.”
Again, he considered breaking the news of his upcoming visit. But he didn’t. And it was clear that she had no idea he would be driving down. For whatever reason, Payton hadn’t told her.
Maybe East hadn’t told Payton because he still hoped he could talk West out of going—or maybe his brother and his sister-in-law had finally decided to butt the hell out and let him and Alex run their own lives for a change.
That would be refreshing.
Alex called him Friday night. Her name popped up on his phone and he grinned like a fool.
He swiped up. “Missed me, huh?”
“I think I’ve grown accustomed to hearing your voice.”
“How was happy hour with your old school friend?”
“Good. We caught up. She’s got a six-year-old little girl and a ten-year-old son and she’s super active in the PTA.”
“So you two have a lot in common, huh?”
“Don’t be a smart-ass, West.”
“You knew I was trouble when you said I could stay in the back bedroom.”
“But that’s just the thing—you didn’t stay in the back bedroom, did you?”
He almost told her right then.
But no. The surprise would be too much fun.
“West? You still there?”
“Where else would I be?”
“I don’t know, I think I always pictured you living the fancy bachelor life, partying at some exclusive club where you have to be a member and there’s a sex dungeon in the basement.”
“I really hate to disappoint you, but I’m still at the office.”
She chided, “West, it’s after eight.”
“I’ve got a few things to wrap up.”
“And then you’ll party all night?”
“Nah. I’ll head home. Get a good night’s sleep.” Get on the road early tomorrow.
“Now you tell me you’re just an ordinary, everyday workaholic. All my illusions are officially shattered.”
“Don’t worry about me. I know how to have fun.”
“Yes.” She said it softly. “Yes, you do.”
He wanted to say he missed her, that he couldn’t wait to see her.
But he was afraid he would give himself away.
They talked about nothing in particular for another ten minutes and then said good-night.
The next morning, he was on the road before dawn. He got to the farm at a little after ten.
A light snow was falling, the wind blowing the white flakes around every which way. In the front window of the guest cottage, the tree lights shone bright. Leaving his luggage in his Range Rover to deal with later, he got out. The snow crunched under his boots as he ran up the front steps.
From inside, he heard what he guessed was Michael Bublé singing “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.” That made him grin. Alex must be in a holiday mood. He raised his hand to ring the doorbell—and then checked the door handle instead.
It was open.
And he shouldn’t.
He knew it.
But he’d never been the good twin. He’d always loved to misbehave—to put salt in the sugar bowl, to jump out from behind the furniture and shout, “Boo!” when his mother was dusting the living room.
Slowly, he turned the handle and pushed the door inward. Michael Bublé crooned all the louder. A wave of warm, sweet-smelling air came out and wrapped around him.
Cookies. She must be baking cookies. He hadn’t realized Alex baked. There were far too many things he didn’t know about her.
She stood on the other side of the kitchen island with her back to him, wearing a red sweater, all that thick dark hair piled on her head in a flyaway bun. Damn, she looked fine. He wanted to grab her and help her out of that red sweater.
Maybe he would get lucky and she would want the same thing. Only one way to find out.
He stepped into the warm, cookie-scented cottage and silently shut the door. It took a few seconds to shed his heavy jacket. He hung it on one of the pegs by the door.
Crossing the living area without making a sound, he rounded the island as she finished arranging cookie-dough shapes on a cookie sheet. She scooped up the baking sheet and turned for the stove. He moved with her, staying behind her.
Tiptoeing up close, he said, “So, Alex, about that Christmas affair you offered me...”
With a startled cry, she whirled on him. Eyes wide, her mouth a shocked O, she sent the sheet of cookies flying.