Home > All the Wright Moves (Wright #12)(3)

All the Wright Moves (Wright #12)(3)
Author: K.A. Linde

We’d had two huge weddings, including Morgan Wright—the CEO of Wright Construction, a Fortune 500 company—and her husband, Patrick’s, event. That had been the highlight of the season. After that, wedding requests had skyrocketed. We had something at the vineyard nearly every Saturday. Hollin and I had even talked about bringing on another event planner since we were getting so much interest. At this point, I could handle it, but it was exciting to see that the vineyard had grown this much.

We’d made it to the cellars doors when they burst open, and my oldest brother, Hollin, strode toward us. “Nora, I just saw Tamara.”

I kept my stride easy and light. “I know. I already spoke with her.”

“I banned her from the premises. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking.”

“She and August got engaged.”

Hollin gaped at me. “What the actual fuck?” He clenched his hands into fists. “I’ll kill him.”

“Not worth it,” I assured him. “You got your punch in.”

“You dated for three years, and he proposed to her in less than a year?”

I glared at my brother. “Yeah, I also was able to do the math.”

“Not helping,” Weston muttered.

That was when Hollin noticed him standing there. His jaw dropped. “West! Hey, I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Yeah, I came in with Campbell today.”

“That asshole didn’t even tell me,” Hollin growled.

“Me neither,” I told him.

“Well, we finished our part on the album,” Weston said. “There’s some production stuff that still has to happen on the back end, but it’s a wrap for us unless we need to go back for any rerecords.”

“Fuck yes!” Hollin cried.

“Congratulations!” I said.

Weston grinned down at me. I knew how proud he was of all of this. Campbell was the lead singer of the band Cosmere that had skyrocketed into fandom a few years back. All that time spent bartending in LA had paid off, and now, he performed to sold-out stadiums all over the world. When his keyboardist had quit before their third album, he’d enlisted West’s help. Weston wasn’t an official part of the band, but he’d filled in on the whole album. He and Campbell had grown close, working together, and had been all but inseparable ever since.

“Yeah,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s pretty cool.”

“So, how long are you here?” Hollin asked the question I most wanted the answer to.

“Not sure. It’s Campbell’s birthday this weekend, and he wanted to spend it with Blaire. So, we took the first flight out of LA. We don’t have anything to do for a while though. I don’t think anyone is rushing to head back.”

“Good. Y’all need the downtime,” Hollin said.

“We should throw a surprise party,” I rushed out.

Hollin snapped his fingers at me. “He’ll hate that. Let’s do it.”

Weston snorted. “He will hate that. For someone in the spotlight, he sure hates it.”

“Which will make it the best,” I said with a laugh. “Something only siblings can get away with. I’ll get together with Blaire to make sure he doesn’t find out.”

“Still bitter that you didn’t get to plan their wedding, huh?” Hollin asked.

I scowled at him. “It wasn’t cool.”

“You were involved,” Weston said.

“I know. I know. But eloping in Vegas is different than letting me create a huge, insane wedding and giving them exactly what they wanted. And before you say anything, I know that eloping was exactly what they wanted. But I can still be sad.”

“Poor thing,” Hollin said with a shake of his head. “I’ll help with the surprise party. We can have it here.”

“I’ll help cover for you,” Weston agreed.

“Done!” I did a little twirl in my high heels. “I love surprise parties.”

“I don’t know how you do that in those death traps,” Hollin said.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Lots of practice.” I hugged my brother. “We’re going to head home early after dealing with Tamara.”

“Sure thing. If you see Campbell, tell him he’s an asshole,” he said, shaking West’s hand.

“Will do.”

We headed out to the parking lot, where my CR-V sat next to Hollin’s truck. I scanned the lot. “What did you drive?”

“Took an Uber from the airport. I left my car at the house.”

“Right, right. Taking up that extra spot in the garage.”

“What were you going to do with that extra spot?” He laughed and snagged the keys from my hand.

“Hey! I’m driving.” I jumped for the keys, but he held them up over my head, so I couldn’t get to them.

“No way, bite-sized,” he joked.

I scoffed, my ears going hot at the nickname. He’d used it when we first moved in together. I was about five feet flat and couldn’t reach anything on the top shelves. He’d had to move everything I wanted to a lower shelf so that I could get to it. That was half the reason for the high heels all the time. Plus, they were me at this point.

“I’m fun-sized. Not bite-sized. Like a Snickers—soft on the outside, crunchy on the inside.”

He snorted. “All right, Snickers. Let’s go.”

I rolled my eyes. Damn it! That wasn’t a better nickname.

“Why must you drive?”

“I haven’t had a car in six months, and LA traffic is shit. It’s the little things.”

I sighed. “Fine. I don’t normally let anyone drive my SUV. You’re lucky.”

He dropped into the driver’s side and then coughed. “Fuck.” He shifted the seat all the way back to accommodate his long legs. He adjusted the mirrors and flicked the fuzzy pink dice in the rearview mirror. “Do you need luck because your feet can’t touch the pedals?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Course not. The luck is for everyone else on the road to survive my demon speeds.”

Weston cracked up and shifted us into gear. “Yeah, I really missed you.”

I flushed again as he peeled out of the parking lot. We listened to the local pop station on the way home, jamming out to Taylor Swift’s latest. West spoke of the merits of her piano playing, and I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs to drown out the shop talk.

He parked my SUV next to his Subaru, and I hightailed it to the garage door.

“Okay, before you judge, remember that I didn’t know you were coming home. I can change any of it.”

He stood in front of me, brushing his hand against my side as he reached for the doorknob. “You’re scaring me. What the hell did you do?”

I held my arms out to try to stop him from going inside. “Not yet. Let me explain.”

But there was no way I could stop him from getting into his own house. He dropped his body down, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His strong arm wrapped across the backs of my thighs. My bare thighs because I’d opted for a white skirt for work today. Oh God.

I screamed in shock as he lifted me and carried me over the threshold.

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