Brig: Are you proposing?
Yup, I probably should have just texted Griffin.
Reid: Dad had a talk with me.
Brig: Did you ask for mom’s ring?
Rogan: Oh shit, Eve’s pregnant.
Griffin: You idiots, it’s probably about the restaurant.
Rogan: Is it?
Brig: No proposal?
Reid: No proposal. Jesus, Brig. And yes, it’s about the restaurant.
Just as I hit “Send,” there’s a knock on my door. I glance up as all three of my brothers barge in, their arms overflowing with beers and wrapped-up meatball subs from our favorite Italian place in town, Moretti’s. I would know that shape and size anywhere.
After they come piling in, making a scene by tackling me and throwing off their jackets and shoes, I finally catch my breath. “You couldn’t have just texted that you were right outside?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Rogan asks, rubbing his hand over my hair. Even though we’re in our twenties, he still treats me like we’re kids.
“I love the dramatics of it all,” Brig says, handing me an opened beer. “But seriously, were you thinking about proposing to Eve?”
“No!”
Rogan yanks on Brig’s arm, forcing him down onto one of the dining table chairs they moved across from the sofa. And then like the good oldest brother he is, Griffin hands out the subs with napkins. Italian sauce and spices waft through my house as we all unwrap the subs and take large bites.
With his mouth full, Griffin asks, “So, Dad told you about the restaurant, huh?”
I swallow and nod. “Yeah. Did you all know?”
“I didn’t.” Brig primly pats his mouth with his napkin like a dipshit. I swear he does stuff like that just to get a reaction from us. “Apparently Dad didn’t want me spilling the beans. But I can keep secrets.”
We all stare at him for a few beats before shaking our heads.
“He asked me for investment advice,” Rogan chimes in. “I’ll admit I didn’t think it was the best idea, since you’ve been such a bastard over the past three years, but after talking to Dad again, I think it could work.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Griffin adds. “I think it would be good for you, for both of you. Dad has always blamed himself for what happened with the first restaurant. He thought that if he’d made you stay in school longer or helped you with the gritty details of running a business, you and Eric might have made it.”
“So this is a pity ask?” My stomach aches at the thought.
Rogan shakes his head. “No, it’s not. This was a well-thought-out decision on Dad’s end. He considered going with someone else, but in the end, he knew he wanted to work with you. According to him, you’re the most brilliant chef he knows, and he wants brilliance for this restaurant. His words.”
Brig claps a hand over his chest. “He really said that? Hell, I wish Dad would say something like that about me. Do you think he thinks I’m the most brilliant mechanic he knows?”
“Not about you, Brig,” Griffin mutters. “And Rogan’s right: Dad spoke to me about his choices as well, and when it came down to it, you were his number one pick. Not because he felt bad or because you’re his son but because he truly believes you will turn that empty space into the best restaurant in Port Snow.”
“Shit,” I say, laughing and taking an uncomfortable swig of beer. “That’s a lot of pressure.”
“The best kind,” Rogan says with a nudge of his elbow. “Soak in the challenge, and come out swinging. You can kill this, Reid. We all know you can.”
“Is that why you’re here? Dad sent you along with meatball subs to convince me?”
“No,” Griffin says, taking another bite. “He wanted us to check on you, so we came here as a group to make sure you didn’t let your fear make a bad decision. Face it, Reid, you haven’t been happy since you’ve moved back here. You need this in your life, and like Dad always says, do what feeds your soul. This is it.”
“Yeah,” Rogan chimes in. “So make the right decision, and don’t be a goddamn idiot.”
I stare down at my sub. “He’ll only give me the job if Eric comes along for the ride. Which means I’ll have to face him.”
“Do I smell a road trip?” Brig asks, rubbing his hands together.
“No,” I answer, dead serious.
“Come on, I’m a good time, and you don’t want to drive all the way down there by yourself.”
“I really do.”
“So you’re going to go down there?” Rogan asks. “Maybe take Eve with you. I’m sure she’d like to see her brother.”
“Oh yeah, great idea,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me bring his sister—the girl I’m fucking—down to convince him to come back to small-town Port Snow to start another restaurant with me.”
“It’s not a terrible idea.” Rogan shrugs.
“Rogue, it’s a horrible idea. Now that I’m involved with Eve, the whole situation is exponentially more complicated. I wish Dad asked me to do this before I started seeing Eve.”
“Why?” Griffin asks. “Because then you wouldn’t have made a move?”
“No, probably not, because I would have known what an awkward situation that would be. It’s not like Eric is just her brother—he’s her twin. They were attached at the hip growing up. It’s only been since their dad passed and we lost the restaurant that Eric has been distant with her. There’s so much shit between them, so much unsaid crap, that bringing me into the mix just overcomplicates everything.” It burns to admit that. But even though I know my relationship with Eve just adds another level of complication, I still want to be with her. I still need to be with her. She’s special. It isn’t just about the sex with this woman or the way she keeps me on my toes; it’s about how she makes me feel. It’s like she parts the dark cloud that hovers over my head and helps me see my true self.
I don’t want to lose that.
But will I still have to?
“So what are you saying?” Brig asks, growing serious. “Are you going to break up with Eve?”
“No,” I answer quickly, my chest aching at the thought. “I mean, I don’t want to.”
“But if you have to?” Rogan’s brow pinches together.
“Fuck, I don’t know.” I set my sandwich down and grip the back of my neck just as there’s another knock at the door. Is Jen joining the party? “Come in!” I shout.
The door opens, and it’s a girl all right, but it’s not my sister. It’s Eve. Speak of the devil. As her eyes sweep the room, she winces and stays in the doorway.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were all here. I can leave.”
“Nah,” Griffin says, standing up quickly. “We were just heading out.”
“Oh, yup, we were leaving.” Rogan stands too, his bad leg giving him a bit of trouble before he escapes the deep, old cushions.
“What?” Brig looks around, confused. “I wasn’t done. We were just getting to the good stuff. I want to know what—”