Page 35 of Falling for My Boss

He disentangled himself from me and climbed out of bed. I immediately regretted him leaving it. I didn’t like the cold feeling beside me or not having his body pressed up against mine. Trying to make up for some of it, I wiggled over onto his side of the mattress and sought out his warmth in the fibers of the sheets.

A few moments later, he came back into the room with two cups of coffee. He’d watched me make mine during our morning exchanges enough times to know exactly how I liked to drink it. He handed me a cup that looked and smelled absolutely perfect, then lifted up the blankets to get back into the bed beside me.

The pressure of his thigh nudging against mine pushed me back over onto my side of the bed, but as soon as he settled into place, I moved closer to him again. Derek propped up our pillows so we could rest back against them, then wrapped his arm around me. I cuddled into it, holding my mug with both hands and draping one leg over his in a move I realized was somehow both casual and protective.

We sipped our coffee and talked for a while. Both of us were careful not to bring the conversation to the topic of Jack or what we were going to do. I didn’t want to acknowledge any of it right then. I just wanted to relish our bubble and think about everything else later.

When the caffeine had kicked in, it was time to get up and go into the kitchen for breakfast. This time, we cooked it together. We moved through the space together smoothly, not getting in each other’s way and seeming to intuit exactly what we were each supposed to do.

I couldn’t help but feel that this was the same kind of domestic experience I had been fighting for a long time. Of course, the big difference when it came to Derek was that I picked him. He hadn’t been thrown at me, and I hadn’t been offered up on a silver platter to pair with him. Not even a silver platter. That would almost seem fancy. I’d been offered up on a legal pad.

It was also a distinct benefit that Derek wasn’t gay. I adored Lincoln. I loved him like another brother. But I also knew he didn’t want to marry me either. There was a brief time when he considered that I might be the perfect cover for him. If we got married, I could act as his beard, and he wouldn’t have to deal with the stress and complication of telling his family he was gay. He knew they would never accept it, and they would do everything they could to make his life miserable.

He didn’t want to give up the future opened up for him by his family’s wealth and power. He wanted the career and the position in society. Not the same way as my parents, but more because it was what he knew and what he wanted for his future. I knew him well enough to know he envisioned himself living that life with a man he loved by his side.

Until he could reach the point where he had secured himself in his position and gained his own identity and respect in both the professional and personal circles around him, he couldn’t be his authentic self. Having me as his wife would give him that bridge.

But that thought fizzled out nearly as quickly as it came to be. He realized it was not only outlandish to give in to the demands of our parents, but that it would never actually give him what he wanted. A marriage based on business that had no potential for love or children wasn’t going to get him anything but heartache. He would never be able to transition from that life into one that spoke to his heart and soul. People around him would see him as dishonest, and it would crumble his reputation.

Beyond that, it would wither his soul. He needed to be who he was, not pretend to be something else, then gradually introduce his truth.

We both recognized the benefits to our family if we went along with it, but neither one of us could actually bring ourselves to do it.

An unexpected giggle came out of me as I stirred a skillet of breakfast potatoes with onions and green peppers. Derek looked over at me with a questioning expression.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

I glanced over at him, barely realizing he had heard the laugh. “Oh. Nothing. I just had a thought.”

“What was it?” he asked.

“That if only Jack were gay, we could make this whole thing work so much more easily,” I said.

Derek laughed and shook his head as he poured the eggs he’d been working on out onto a large plate.

“That would certainly have been a better approach,” he said.

We sat down for breakfast and settled back into our comfortable conversation. I was happy and relaxed, but only because I wasn’t letting myself think about the outside world. Not until I absolutely had to.

When it was time for us to get ready and head to the vineyard, the anxiety started creeping in again. By the time we got there and walked into the restaurant, my stomach was in knots. I spent the rest of the day looking over my shoulder and waiting for that moment when the doors would open, and Jack would walk inside.

That moment never came, and I was beyond relieved to go back to Derek’s house at the end of the day.

Of course, the next day it just played out over again. I spent the next few days on edge every second I was at the vineyard, knowing he was there. Even though the brothers had agreed to not bring him near me or the restaurant, Jack was his own person. They didn’t have control over him. I just hoped while he was working with Noah, Alex, and Zane, they kept him busy enough and had enough recommendations for meals and socializing after work would keep him from venturing to the restaurant.

It helped that Derek pulled me to bed every night and cuddled me close to keep my anxieties at bay.

I didn’t lay eyes on my brother again until a week after he showed up at the King Vineyard. It was just after the end of the workday, and we were getting ready for dinner service.

Lunch had been different that day because of a very large private party that rented the restaurant for a few hours at the beginning of the day. They were a demanding group who kept those of us taking care of them hopping the entire time. It was exhausting, both mentally and physically, and at the end of it, Derek and I both needed a bit of a breather.

He took my hand, and we walked out the back of the restaurant to take a stroll through some of the gardens in that area. As we were walking along a narrow path that wove through lush trees and smelled sweet like flowers, we heard voices coming from somewhere nearby. We came around a curve and were able to see one of the small private parking areas used only by the family and certain unauthorized people working at the vineyard for specific projects.

Cameron and Zane were walking toward a car with Jack walking between them. They stopped beside the car and chatted for a few moments. We couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying, but the tone seemed perfectly pleasant and comfortable. I realized then that I missed my brother.

That was an unexpected reaction. After a year of running from him and only thinking about how upset and angry I had been at him for seeming to become just like our parents, I suddenly remembered how close we used to be. We might not have had the secret twin language or be able to sense when each other was hurt the same way some identical twins could, but we had a very tight relationship.

We were very close growing up and spent as much time as we could playing together, then commiserating about school and the children of the families around us. We were very similar in some ways, and it had bonded us. Not having him as part of my life anymore, and indeed feeling like I had to do everything I could to avoid him, made me feel like there was a part of my life missing.

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