CHAPTER EIGHT
Plane over the Pacific Ocean
Monday, November 20
I’m so relieved when Monday evening rolls around and I finally have Nia all to myself—at least for the duration of this flight. I’m normally not a fan of being thirty-something thousand feet in the air for hours at a time. My logical mind understands how avionics function, but I still have trouble rationalizing the safety of something inherently dangerous like flying.
Beside me, Nia sips a glass of water and taps away on her laptop. She’s been quiet since we took off. Maybe it has something to do with the way our last date ended. And my behavior Saturday night at the BBB Revue. I might have stayed less than two feet from Nia every moment I could. I might also have snarled whenever Kyle tried to talk to her. And I might have told him to back the fuck off when he walked into her dressing room uninvited after their performance.
Not my finest moment.
Why do I turn caveman every time a man looks at her? I can’t understand it. I’ve never behaved this way in my life.
Guys often looked at Becca. She was a beautiful willow of a woman with long dark hair and bright eyes who always appeared as if she needed saving. Beings with Y chromosomes everywhere responded to that, and it never bothered me. But men don’t look at Nia as if they want to save her. She’s too obviously capable to need their help. They look at her as if they’re desperate to fuck her. I’m not okay with that. Not at all.
“You’re supposed to be on vacation,” I remind her.
She slants a scowl my way. “Says the guy who spent the last hour reading the October financials.”
“I told Bas I’d do it over the weekend. I didn’t get to it.” When she questions me with a raised brow, my gut clenches. “Because, I admit, I was wound up about Kyle.”
“Clearly.”
“You’re mad.”
“I’m not thrilled,” she admits. “Look, if I wanted to be with Kyle, I would be. The fact I haven’t let him touch me in nearly two years, despite the fact I see him at least twice a week, should tell you something about my non-feelings for him.”
I understand her point, but it has no effect on my perspective. “He has feelings for you.”
Which are too much like my own.
Nia shrugs. “That’s his issue, and we’ve talked about it. He’s hung up because I broke things off, and he’s not used to hearing no. I already know that if I took him back, he’d lose interest in a month or less. We played that game once before, and I’m not doing it again. I did the rebound thing with him after I broke up with Mateo. I was sad about my mom’s passing and the breakup…and I wanted comfort. But it was a disaster. There’s nothing Kyle could say or do to win me back again, and you need to let it go. Besides, if you’re determined to marry me for purely practical reasons, why does any of this matter to you?”
I have no answer and no basis to refute her. I sit back, blink, process as she resumes tapping out her email. Why does it bother me?
“I don’t know. I just… I’ve never been through this.”
She pauses. “No one ever hit on Becca?”
“That’s not what I mean. Men hit on her all the time. It just never bothered me.” Probably because I knew Becca had never had sex with any of those men who pursued her. But Nia has already assured me that she’s not thinking about her exes when we’re together; I’m the one who keeps bringing them up. She’s right; I need to let it go.
“There’s no reason for it to bother you now. I’ve been cheated on enough to know that it sucks. In my mind, going behind your lover’s back to get some on the side before breaking it off is shitty. If we actually get married someday, I’ll be with you, totally committed to you. That’s the way I function. If there ever comes a day I decide I want someone else, I’ll tell you to your face before anything happens. I expect the same of you.”
I’ve never had a problem with commitment. “Of course. You have my word. And I’ll try to keep my”—jealousy?—“issues with other men to a minimum.”
“Thanks.”
Nia doesn’t say much for the rest of the flight, and I’m pensive. I try to lose myself in the listings of beautiful island properties Maxon and Griff have sent in advance. I’d like to get a living situation nailed down while I’m here. It’s practical to be prepared to hit the ground running in January. And it gives me something to focus on now besides all the ways Nia unsettles me.
But price per square footage and number of bedrooms don’t hold my interest for long. I pick one that seems more than livable and would probably be my best investment. Then my gaze strays to Nia.
Finally, she closes the lid on her laptop with a sigh. “What’s wrong now?”
The fact that she realizes I’m struggling with disquiet, despite the fact I didn’t say a word, says how well she knows me. “I’m not sure.”
“Well, you’re not bored. I know your bored face. This isn’t it.”
“No.” I’m never bored around her. But there’s something going on inside me that I don’t comprehend. Maybe she knows me better than I know myself. “What do you think is bothering me?”
With a sudden shrug, she looks away. “You’ll have to figure it out for yourself.”
I’ve tried. Bas offered to help, but it didn’t seem necessary at the time. All I know is the longer I’m with Nia—but not with her—the deeper I get into this funk.
Finally, the flight lands at the private airstrip. We make our way down the airstairs, greeted by the sunny skies and weather that’s nearly thirty degrees warmer than Seattle. When the sun hits Nia, she pauses to close her eyes, tilt her head back, and soak in the warmth.
“I could get used to this,” she murmurs.
If I have my way, she will. “It’s definitely not so bad.”
She nods, and at the bottom of the stairs, I can’t resist touching her, so I take her hand.
Nia glances at our tangled fingers, and I can’t tell whether she’s amused or annoyed. Personally, I’m the latter. I didn’t see the point of public displays of affections with Becca. We knew we were together. Why announce it to the world? With Nia, it’s different. I want everyone to know—most especially her—that she belongs to me. I’d write it off as that insidious jealousy creeping in again, except there’s no man here trying to snag her attention. Just the two of us and my need to be close to her.
It’s a relief when she doesn’t pull away, simply follows me into the red open-air building, glancing over her shoulder to take in the view of the ocean beyond the runway.
“Evan!” a man shouts.
I immediately identify that voice as Maxon’s. To my right, I see him and Griff both rise to their feet, impeccably dressed in dark suits and crisp shirts. They approach, giving Nia—and our joined hands—a discreet once-over.
“Hi. I didn’t expect you two here.”
“We thought we’d be the welcoming committee,” Maxon drawls as he gives me a bro hug.
Griff snorts as we bump shoulders. “Because we wanted to discuss the listings we sent you, and the wives have decreed there will be no shop talk tonight. But they didn’t say anything about chatting in the car…”
I laugh. I’m not at all surprised they’re eager to keep their wives happy. Not only do my older half brothers both seem devoted but, according to my sister, they’re afraid to cross the women they married as pregnancy and hormones have progressed.
“We can do that. Guys, this is Nia. My…” How do I explain her? They already know from my previous visits here that she’s my assistant, but by holding her hand I’ve made it clear she’s more.
I should have decided before we landed what I intended to tell my family about our relationship. In truth, I wasn’t sure they would care. I deeply suspect I miscalculated.
I seem to be doing that a lot lately.
“It’s complicated,” she says with a smile, saving me the awkward explanation.
Griff gives her a sanguine shrug. “Relationships are always complicated. Getting Britta to the altar was no breeze.”
“That’s because you were a stupid fuck-up. Hi. Maxon Reed.” He thrusts his hand toward Nia. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same.” She shakes with my oldest brother, trying not to laugh. “I’m Nia Wright.”
“Don’t listen to the douchebag,” Griff says as he takes her hand. “He’s no smarter. I’m Griffin Reed, by the way.”
Nia smiles at him.
“Oh, I’m so much smarter!” Maxon protests.
“Want me to ask Keeley?”
“You leave my wife out of this.”
“You two can arm-wrestle for the douchebag title later,” I say. “I need to arrange for the rental so I can get over to Noah and Harlow’s place.”
“We’ll take you, and you don’t need a rental. All of Noah’s cars have arrived from the mainland since you were here last.” Maxon laughs. “He has more cars than he has places to park them. Trust me, you won’t be without wheels.”
We grab the luggage and all pile into Maxon’s SUV, jumping quickly into house-hunting talk.
“Everything you sent me looks great,” I begin. “I think I know which is the best investment, but I’d like your local insight. I’m also going to hang on to my Seattle condo for a while, see how much I need to travel back and have a base there.”
“Smart. And it will only appreciate,” Griff points out.
“Absolutely.” Maxon nods. “So, based on the listings we sent you, are you leaning more toward a house or a condo?”
“I see the upsides to both.” Then I pause. If Nia marries me, I won’t be the only one living in this place. I should ask her thoughts. Becca never cared, but Nia has an opinion about everything. “What do you think, honey?”
When the endearment rolls off my tongue, she turns a slow, questioning glance at me. Then her eyes widen. Yes, she remembers the last time I said that word to her. I was running my tongue up her neck and telling her that’s what she tasted like. I very much want to have my tongue someplace else on her body right now to see how much sweeter she can be.
“Um…both sound great.”
“But if you had to choose?” I prompt.
She shrugs. “What suits your needs? If you don’t want a yard or the maintenance of a house, a condo is probably the way to go. You like yours now, right?”
I didn’t consider the likability of the unit, only the practicality and suitability for my purposes. I know Nia views living quarters from a totally different perspective. “What do you like? You didn’t go the apartment route. What was your rationale?”
“I’m afraid it’s nothing terribly logical. I can’t stand cookie-cutter stuff. I don’t care much where I live as long as it has character. I’ll take odd and quirky over predictable any day.”
Given the little bit I saw of her cottage, I believe that. I reach into my computer bag and pull out the listings my brothers sent earlier. “What do you think of these? I’ve looked but…”
I’m aware of Maxon watching us in the rearview mirror as I hand the folder to Nia. She opens it and flips to the first description and its accompanying pictures.
“This seems nice,” I prompt her. “A good investment.”
She tries to smile but it’s more like a grimace. “Twenty-nine million dollars?”
“I have the money, and price per square foot is actually an exceptional deal for that corner of Maui.”
“Maybe, but what are you going to do with nine thousand square feet? And an acre? The maintenance alone…”
That’s a reasonable point. “So, too big. Got it.”
“Besides that, look at this place. It’s…”
“Sleek?”
“Island modern?” Maxon suggests from the driver’s seat.
“It looks kind of like a cruise ship. A new one, granted. A nice one…but who lives there?”
Griff laughs, then turns to Maxon. “Told you.”
“Well, since Evan’s place is on the contemporary side, I thought this might be his vibe,” Maxon defends.
“I bought that for the investment. It came decorated.” I was never there enough to change it, and Becca never said she wanted anything different.
“What about this one?” Griff points to one in the stack. “It’s only fifty-five hundred square feet. And you’d be pretty close to me and Britta.”
Nia flips through it halfheartedly. “It’s still twenty million. Sorry. It’s not my money, but I think that’s silly. Plus…it looks a little Golden-Girls-go-on-vacation.”
“What does that mean?” Her reference is lost on me.
“The Golden Girls? TV show about four older women who share a house in Miami? Betty White?” I must still look blank because she sighs. “The decor is little on the eighties side.”
I frown. “The age or the decade?”
“Both.”
Now that she mentions it, I see what she means. “And that’s not the sort of character you want?”
“For me, no. But if you like it, then go for it.”
If Nia is going to live there with me and character matters, then I want her to be happy. I can be comfortable almost anywhere. “What about this?”
She bobs her head a few times. “I can’t fault anything about it. The price tag and size are coming down a little. It just…doesn’t do much for me. The ocean views are insane, I admit. But it’s…meh.”
“What’s your favorite style?” Griff asks.
When I look up, he’s not watching Nia for her reply. He’s staring at me, his expression dissecting. He’s already figured out I’ll let her choose the house. His raised brow also says he thinks that’s very interesting…
“Oh!” Nia stops on a page suddenly, her eyes going wide.
“Yeah, when I looked at that, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. It looks…”
“Totally charming.” A smile lights up her face.
Really? “I was going to say mountain cabin meets tropical cabana.”
She nods enthusiastically. “The rustic wooden beams framing the family room add so much visual interest. But then the carved balusters and iron spindles make it look more refined. The wainscoting around the room ties it all together. Nothing is predictable. The kitchen is transitional with an almost cottage vibe, but it’s definitely big enough. And that Sub-Zero refrigerator!”
Griff warms to the subject. “Four patios, three facing the ocean. An outdoor shower, a library, a home office, a pool…”
“And a fireplace in the master,” she breathes.
“Which you’ll never use in Maui.” Maxon chuffs. “Trust me, you’ll look at it longingly a lot and turn on the ceiling fans.”
“The fans sound practical,” I mutter, wondering why anyone would build a fireplace in a home where the temperature rarely falls below seventy degrees.
The smile disappears from Nia’s face. “You’re right. Never mind.”
Providing well for her is one of the things I can do. So is indulging her. If she wants a fireplace, I don’t understand…but if that will help persuade her to marry me, she’ll have a damn fireplace.
While she’s looking out the window to her left, I catch Griff’s stare and point to the listing in my hand. He nods and thankfully fills the rest of the drive by catching us up on some possible locations they’ve found for my offices.
Finally, we reach Noah and Harlow’s massive place. Noah comes out to greet me, carrying a huge pair of tongs and wearing an apron that reads I TURN GRILLS ON. He gives me a brief, brotherly hug. “Good to see you, Evan.”
“You, too. Thanks for letting me stay with you for the holiday.”
“We’re family, man.”
I smile. After spending a lot of years without one, having the boisterous Reed clan is a blessing. “I hope you don’t mind one more to the party. Noah, this is Nia. And she’s a fan of yours.”
“Then she’s definitely welcome.” He puts out his hand. “Hi.”
“Oh, my god. Hi. If my mom was still alive, she’d be freaking right now with me. She was a fan, too.”
“Thanks. Sorry for your loss.”
“I appreciate that.”
When she falls a little quiet, I wrap my arm around her, caress her shoulder. It’s my silent way of telling her I’m here for her. I wasn’t there much when her mother died. I gave her whatever time off she needed. I didn’t attend the funeral; Becca didn’t think it would be appropriate or welcome. I didn’t see a reason to disagree. I assumed she had other friends and family to help her along. I didn’t realize until now how alone she must have felt, and I regret that.
“Gorgeous place,” Nia murmurs. “Thanks for letting me crash your holiday.”
Noah takes in my possessive stance and smiles. “Not at all. We’re glad you came.”
Behind him, Harlow emerges in a red strapless dress, her dark hair a silky cloud of curls around her slender shoulders as she walks toward me without her normal easy gait.
I blink. “Wow, you look so pregnant.”
Nia elbows me. “You did not just say that.”
My sister laughs as she approaches me for a hug. “I am so pregnant. Blame the big guy.”
“I don’t mind being guilty.” Noah presses a kiss to her cheek, then turns toward the patio. “I’ve got to get back to the grill before I burn dinner.”
When he’s gone, Harlow sizes Nia up with a glance and an approving smile. “Welcome. When the guys break away for ‘man talk’ after dinner, I’ll ply you full of wine, pump you for information about this one”—she points at me—“and totally ask about your eye shadow technique. Whatever you did looks great.”
Nia’s smile widens, and I can tell she already likes my sister. “Deal, but I’ll be asking you questions about your guy, too. How did you even meet?”
“Griff and Maxon had me housesitting this place before Noah moved in. I had no idea who he was when he showed up, but I told him I wanted sex.” Harlow winks. “He let me stay.”
While Nia apparently finds that funny, I groan. “I didn’t need to hear that.”
“Yeah, we didn’t, either.” Maxon grimaces.
Griff nods, and they both disappear into the house, rolling our luggage. I take my computer bag and follow as Keeley and Britta bustle forward. Actually, waddle might be a better word. They look even more pregnant than Harlow, but I refrain from mentioning that since it’s apparently not tactful.
“Hey, cutie,” Keeley says playfully as she moves in for a hug. “Happy to be out of Seattle’s cold and rain?”
“I have to admit it’s nice for a change.” I turn to my side. “Ladies, this is Nia Wright.”
“Your assistant?” Britta looks surprised as she hugs me, too.
“And…my girlfriend. I asked her to come with me for the holiday.”
“We’re glad you could make it. I’m Britta, Griff’s wife.” She smiles.
Keeley squeals as I finish off the introductions. “So the playlist I made for your first date was with Nia?”
“It was,” I admit as I head into the cool, shaded house.
“I really liked the songs,” Nia says. “Thanks for thinking of us.”
Keeley beams and rubs her distended belly. “I have to do something now that the doctor wants me off my feet most of the time. I’m certainly not teaching any more yoga classes or singing karaoke unless I’m lying down.”
“Is it a boy or girl?” Nia asks.
“I want it to be a surprise. My mom and Britta’s mom know. They’re arranging all the stuff for the nursery and they’re going to decorate everything while we’re recovering at the hospital.” Keeley bites her lip. “I’m getting nervous. Less than two months to go now.”
“You’re going to be fine,” Britta assures.
“Evan says you two are due at almost the same time,” Nia mentions.
“It will be a race to see which of us gives birth first.”
“I’m hoping it will be you,” Keeley squeaks. “I’ve never done this birth thing. You’re the pro…”
“Once doesn’t make me a pro. It was just enough for me to know there are parts to the process I’d rather forget.” Britta grins.
Nia smiles, too. “Do you know the sex of your baby?”
“We’re having another boy. I was hoping we’d give our son, Jamie, a sister, but no.”
“Next time…” Griff slides by his wife, pressing a kiss on her shoulder and a caress to her hip.
“I don’t know about more babies, mister,” she calls after him as he grabs a beer from the fridge and loosens his tie.
He pops the cap off the bottle and flashes her a smile that explains why he was able to seduce so many women before he married her.
Keeley giggles. “Maxon and I are talking about more. Well, Maxon is. I told him I have to see how this one goes. I really like sleep. I don’t know how I’m going to function without it.”
Everyone laughs.
Noah sticks his head in from the patio and informs everyone that dinner is almost ready. The women finish setting the table, and Nia does her best to help, though I’m sure she’s tired from traveling.
Minutes later, we’re sitting down to steaks and grilled vegetables, fresh pineapple, island breezes, and a lot of laughter. I just met these people a few months ago. Barged into their lives, really. It was awkward at first, and now…it’s as if I belong. As if I’ve always belonged.
I think relocating to Maui is the right move. I intend to convince Nia to come with me as my wife.
We share a boisterous dinner to the soundtrack of one of Keeley’s chill playlists in the background. I only recognize one Dido tune. Something about the best day of my life. Yeah, this is beginning to rank up there. There’s beer for the guys, and true to her word, Harlow opens a bottle of red, despite the fact my girl is the only one who can drink it. There’s laughs, gentle teasing, a lot of talk of the future, and a good time. I can picture the eight of us here over the years, growing closer as a family. I like the vision, except…they’ll all have children, and I’m not ready or willing to endure the possibility of loss again. I’ve mourned Becca, but for the last few weeks in particular, I’ve felt the gnawing grief of wishing I was holding my son or daughter now…while knowing I never will.
It’s a conundrum I’m unsure how to fix.
When the meal is over, everyone stands. By unspoken agreement, the guys start clearing the table and doing the dishes. The ladies pick up the rest of the vino and escort Nia outside, already deep in conversation.
“What’s that about?” I ask the other men.
“Girl talk,” Griff says cryptically with a saccharine smile.
In other words, they’re going to grill her. Because they think she’s not good enough for me? Because they suspect she pursued me for the wrong reasons? The notion makes me angry. “Nia is a great assistant, friend, and human being. She’s not after my money. I’m the one who started this. She—”
“Hey, you don’t have to justify her to us,” Noah assures. “She seems great, and this is the happiest we’ve seen you.”
“Exactly,” Maxon puts in.
I let out a breath and frown. “Then why are your wives all circling her like they’re vultures and she’s prey?”
“They want answers,” Griff supplies. “And all the juicy details. How was your first date?”
Maxon nods in agreement. “Your first kiss?”
“Your first…” Noah doesn’t finish his question, just grins.
“She shouldn’t have to explain us to anyone.” I head off to rescue her.
My oldest brother stops me. “My wife will ply gently. You know Keeley. She’ll joke and set Nia at ease, make her laugh. And if Nia doesn’t feel like saying anything, she doesn’t have to. I’m sure she has no trouble saying no. But they just want to know if she’s content and invested…or if she could use a little help understanding how to speak Reed.”
“God knows I needed help,” Noah puts in.
“And they want to know if they should start planning a wedding,” Griff adds.
I huff. “I hope they find out and pass the answer on to me.”
The three of them exchange glances. “You don’t know?”
“Everything is new. And we’re still getting to know each other as something other than boss and assistant.”
“But she’s still working for you?” Griff asks.
“Yeah.” For now. I don’t want to think about what happens if she decides otherwise—or the Lunds manage to snatch her away.
“Is she making the move here, too?”
“Maybe. She’s still deciding.”
Noah rolls his eyes. “Dude, if you’re moving here in six weeks and want her to come along, you have to help her make up her mind fast. The relationship might be new, but you two seem pretty serious.”
Like their wives are doing to Nia, they’re prying. It’s embarrassing. On the other hand, they’ve all gotten married in the last year. And they all had to hustle like hell to get their wives to say “I do.” It’s possible they know something about women and relationships I don’t.
“It is. I’ve asked her to marry me. I don’t have any idea if she’ll say yes. She’s cautious and hard to read…and I’m used to Becca, who went along with whatever I thought was best. Nia is totally different.”
“Does she love you?” Griff asks, his voice low and serious.
“I don’t know, and it’s not relevant. I’m not looking for romance, just a wife.”
The three of them exchange a longer glance. Clearly, they think I’m insane. Whatever.
“And she knows how you feel about that?” Maxon prods me.
“Totally. I was honest. I’d never want to be anything less with her.”
Maxon and Griff just groan.
“Well…” Noah scratches at his five o’clock shadow. “That’s one way of doing it.”
I frown. “What other way is there?”
The trio look at one another again before Noah speaks up. “The underhanded, not-going-to-take-no-for-an-answer way. Want pointers?”
“No. I want her to see the value of the arrangement and enter into it with her eyes wide open. I don’t want to deceive or lie to her.”
“That’s not what we mean.”
“Think of it as you giving her what she wants…so you can get what you want,” Maxon clarifies.
“I don’t understand.”
“Put a positive spin on things,” Griff adds. “Persuade her. Show her how good it can be using whatever you’ve got in your arsenal. Help her see you and your relationship from a different perspective.”
Noah nods. “If you do this right, you’re guaranteed to walk away with a wife.”
I hesitate. When they put it like that, I can’t do any worse with their advice than I’ve been doing on my own. Because the truth is, if I can’t say or do the right things in the next six weeks, Nia will walk away. And how much will I kick myself for not trying harder? They’ve obviously mastered this romance shit I’m so clueless about.
“All right. I’ll try. Tell me everything.”