Page 98 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

He nods, his expression betraying nothing. Brennen glances between us, his brow furrowing.

“You two know each other?” he asks.

“Dawson was in my unit,” I say, my voice clipped. “So yeah, we know each other.”

Dawson’s mouth twitches, but he doesn’t elaborate, and Brennen doesn’t push. Instead, he gestures toward the table, where a few glasses of wine are set out, a bottle open between them.

“Miles is here to evaluate the new blend,” Brennen says. “Figured we could use an expert opinion.”

I nod, though my mind is miles away, back at the Airbnb, back on Candace with her hospital bracelet and her tears. I go through the motions of being polite, tasting the wine, offering comments that mean nothing. After all, I’ve been a beer and scotch man for a long time. All the while Brennen watches me with that damn Murphy instinct that always knows when something’s wrong.

Finally, I stand, pushing back my chair. “I need to check on something up in the vines,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

Brennen frowns. “Now? It can’t wait?”

“Yeah. Now.” I glance at Dawson. “You mind tagging along? I’ve got something I want to show you.”

He hesitates, then nods. “Lead the way.”

We head out into the vineyard sprawling before us, the rows of vines bathed in the faint light of a stormy, coastal afternoon. The rain has left everything damp, the air heavy with the scent of earth and wet vines. I walk in silence, my mind racing, and Dawson keeps pace beside me, his usual easy demeanor replaced by something more cautious.

When we’re far enough from the house that Brennen can’t hear us, I stop and turn to him. “Why didn’t I hear about all of this before now?” I ask.

Dawson crosses his arms, his face impassive. “You asked me to look into things. And it’s a good thing I did, because this place is barely hanging on.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, the anger bubbling up before I can stop it.

“I did,” he says calmly. “Every report I sent your way, every call you didn’t answer. You wanted me to look after things without getting involved, so I did what I could do. The one thing I didn’t put in the reports was Emma.”

“What’s Emma got to do with this?” I ask sharply.

Miles shakes his head and exhales. “Everything. There’s no easy way to say this, Ryan. I’m in love with your sister.”

“My sister? Love?” I ask incredulously.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“Yes, Ryan…”

Before he can finish and I can think about it, my fist connects with his face, and Dawson goes down, landing on his ass and his elbows.

“… that generally happens when two adults fall in love with each other. They have sex.”

“Get up,” I growl, suddenly wanting to vent my rage and grief on someone. Dawson is looking like a good target.

“No way.” His refusal kind of stops me in my tracks. “Because if I do, you’ll only knock me on my ass again, and this time you might break something.”

“What makes you think I won’t pummel you when you’re down?”

“Two things. First your sense of honor wouldn’t allow it, and second, if you did, your sister would beat the shit out of you.”

“You don’t know that she’d win…” I say, grasping at straws.

“Sure I do. I refer you to that first reason, which is why I know you’d never hit her back.”

He has a point. I run a hand through my hair, the frustration clawing at me. “This isn’t just about the vineyard anymore,” I say, my voice low, raw. “It’s about Candace.”

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