Page 81 of Crave Me

“Hell no, we’re going to Raven Hut. I’m craving their brisket,” Sawyer says.

“Kiss my ass, shithead, I spoke first. Liam, go to Heather Meadows.”

My brother’s hand connects with the back of my skull with a loud slap. I whip my head in his direction, pushing my palm against the side of his face and knocking his head against the car window, holding it in place.

“What about White Salmon Lodge? Raven Hut’s food sucks,” Carter chimes in.

“Heather. Meadows.”

Sawyer smacks my forearm, knocking his face free of my hold.

“Raven. Hut.”

“Seriously, let’s go to White Salmon, I want to see if that chick is still waitressing. She was a fun time last year.”

“NO!” Sawyer and I both yell at Carter.

We end up getting burgers at Raven Hut, everyone except Carter, who orders the same chicken tenders he gets every year.

“They’re the best I’ve ever had, so shut the hell up,” he tells us while flagging down our waitress.

“Four tequila shots, please, beautiful.”

“Alright, tone it down there, Casanova. Don’t need to be bringing your A-game to the lodge. I’m sure she gets hit on enough,” Liam tells him.

Two tequila shots later, we drag our asses back out. The next trail is the longest but has a nice S turn to get our post-lunch feet back in motion. I lose myself to the mountain.

Back at our Airbnb, things start to get a little wild. Blame it on the lack of sleep, the delirium of being on the slopes all day, the adrenaline crash, or just being away with no responsibilities, but we tend to lose our minds. Carter stands with his pants pulled down over his ass, bent over the picnic table outside while Sawyer heats up a metal poker in the fire pit we started.

“How ’bout a belt to put between your teeth?” Liam suggests.

Carter just grunts. “How the fuck did I lose this goddamn bet again?”

“You were a shit-eating, cocky-ass motherfucker who thought he could beat us down the slope. Loser gets a branding to his ass. Isn’t that what you said? How’d it work out for you, huh, Casanova? The ladies are gonna love to see this one,” Sawyer reminds him, and I hunch over in laughter. Liam joins me.

“Hold him down, boys! This one’s gonna sting!”

I pull my shirt over my nose, anticipating the rancid smell of burnt flesh as Sawyer holds the poker over Carter’s ass cheek, and Liam and I grab our brother’s arms. The sizzle hits my ears before the smell comes and I wince, clenching my ass cheeks together in sympathy.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Carter wails.

And my brothers and I fall to the ground in a fit of laughter.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Blaire

Work is bizarre without the Hayes brothers running the place. Everything operates smoothly, but I find myself looking for Dallas even though I know I won’t find him. After a long day of tours and tastings, I collapse on my futon once I’m home. With Dallas gone, I decide to throw all of my focus into the proposal for changing up the dynamic of the events department of the distillery. I’m positive that the changes could not only benefit the company, but also give Dallas the peace he loves while on the property. Plus, I love creating events that give people their happily ever after much more than I do giving tours.

I work on restructuring what I’ve already created, putting less focus on the day-to-day tours and more on being a large-scale event venue with a more defined schedule. The research for financial projections is taking a little longer than I had hoped, but the rest of it starts to come together, which gets me excited. Maybe this gesture can bridge the final gap between Dallas and me. Whether I’m personally to blame or not, I know I’m the physical representation of the changes made to the distillery that disturbed his peace. Now that I understand him, I want to give him this. Everyone deserves peace, and I’m starting to accept that he brings me mine.

Losing track of time, I close my laptop after my stomach’s protests for hunger get too loud to ignore, when my phone chimes with an incoming text message. Anticipating it being Dallas, I quickly snatch it off my desk to look at the notification. I’ve only heard from him once, a text last night saying that he hopes I’m sleeping well.

Ivy:

Hey Blaire, Kinsey and I are having a girls’ night tonight while the guys are away. Want to go out with us? She’s dragging me out and to be her DD and I’d love the backup. I hate going out.

Ivy:

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