Page 11 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

Brennen’s face falls slightly, but he nods, trying to hide his disappointment. “I see. Thank you for the feedback. We’ll definitely take that into consideration.”

Miles nods curtly, his eyes flicking to me one last time before he picks up his notebook. “I’ll be watching for the final product. I expect it to be impressive when it’s ready.”

With that, he turns and heads toward the exit, leaving me standing there, heart racing, palms sweating, and absolutely no clue what to do next.

“Emma?” Brennen’s voice pulls me back to reality. “You okay?”

I blink, realizing I’ve been staring after Miles for too long. “Yeah,” I lie, offering a tight smile. “Just… thinking about what he said.”

Brennen runs a hand through his hair, exhaling in relief. “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I expected. At least he didn’t tear us apart. We have time to make improvements. Plus, I didn’t have him taste the 2023 bottle. I want to get that one just right before anyone knows about it.”

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Brennen is just chatting away while I’m still trying to process the fact that the man I slept with last night is not only the world’s most famous wine critic, but also very likely holding the future ofmy brother’s winery in his hands. The same hands that held my breasts and ass last night.

After Brennen cleans up the tasting room and we sit and talk awhile about Miles Dawson’s visit, I’m leaving the winery and on my way to my office to meet with a client when my phone buzzes in my pocket. At the stoplight, I pull out my phone and what I see makes me freeze.

Unknown: Had a great time last night. Since I’ll be sticking around a while, maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime?

It’s from him. How did he get my number?

My pulse quickens as I stare at the screen, the events of the past twelve hours crashing down around me.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Chapter 5

Miles

Ishut the door to my hotel room, leaning back against it as the weight of everything that just happened hits me all at once. My mind is still reeling from seeing her—Emma Murphy, the winery owner’s sister… Ryan Murphy’s little sister. Of all the people in this town, of all the wineries in Florida, I had to walk into hers—and I fucked her.

I cannot believe I fucked my best friend’s little sister.

Emma. My one-night stand. The woman I haven’t been able to get out of my head since I woke up to find her gone this morning.

I cross the room and sink down onto the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair. It’s almost laughable how fate works sometimes. Last night, we were just two strangers enjoying a little escapism. But today? Today she’s the legal counsel for one of the most promising wineries I’ve been tasked with reviewing in years.

I glance around the room. At least my luggage has finally arrived, sitting neatly by the closet as if nothing else in the world could go wrong. The airline managed to locate it after all. I feel like I’m in the middle of a whirlwind.

I walk over to the suitcase, flipping it open just to have something to do with my hands. My fingers brush over the familiar fabric of my clothes, but my mind is still on her. Emma. The way she looked today at the winery, like a deer caught in headlights when she realized who I was. I felt the same damn way—shock, panic, and an undeniable awareness of everything that happened between us.

And then Brennen. The poor guy had no idea that his sister and I were tangled up in the sheets just this morning. He was just trying to impress me, nervous as hell about his wines. To be fair, I was hard on him. Maybe even a little harsher than I should’ve been. But something about his setup didn’t feel right. As good as the wine was—and it was good—I had a sneaking suspicion that Brennen hadn’t given me everything. I tasted potential in those wines, sure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more. Something he wasn’t showing me.

My phone buzzes from the nightstand, pulling me out of my thoughts. I grab it, unsurprised to see Ryan’s name flashing across the screen. I hesitate for a second before answering, knowing this conversation is going to get complicated.

“Ryan,” I greet, trying to sound more collected than I feel since Emma is his sister.

“Ghost, my man. How’s my hometown of Pelican Point treating ya?” Ryan calls me by my call sign from our SEAL days.

“It’s been…interesting,” I reply, glancing around the room as if it holds all the answers I need.

“I’ll bet,” he says, and I can almost hear the laugh in his voice. “So, what did you think of Celtic’s wine?”

I lean back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “Honestly? It’s better than I expected. It’s got great structure, the tannins are sharp but promising, and the acidity will mellow with time. But…”

---