Page 42 of Bourbon Wishes
"I don't know," I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose.
Trystan eyes me silently for a long moment and then sighs. "Yeah, you do. You need to put that ring on her finger, man. Then she'll know."
"Are you even listening to me?" I scowl at him. "I need her heart first, and she's scared to give it to me because I'm her boss."
"So stop being her boss." He shrugs, hauling himself to his feet. "If that big ass brain of yours can't figure out how to do that, the rest of us are fucked." He cocks his head, spearing me with a look. "And if you think she doesn't already love you, you're an idiot."
"She needs a stake in the company," I mutter, ignoring him because I don't know what else to do. I hope like hell she's in love with me. I'm fucking dying for it, actually. But until I hear those words from her lips, I can't let myself believe it.
I know I'm an asshole who doesn't deserve her. She's sunshine and everything good in the world. It's brighter because she's in it. I'm the dick who makes life more complicated for everyone because I just can't let go or ease off. She has to know she's too good for me…right?
Existential dread thrums through me at the thought of her not knowing that she's a goddess. She should know it.
"That's…actually not a terrible idea," Tryst says, eyeing me like he's surprised I'm even considering it. But it's the only solution. If she has a stake, a piece of it will always belong to her. This place will be her home as much as mine, not because I put a ring on her finger, but because her name is written right there beside the rest of ours. I won't be her boss any longer. The balance of power will even out.
I jerk to my feet, prepared to beg my entire damn family if that's what it takes. For some reason, I don't think it'll come to that, though. They all know Constance. They all love her. And, frankly, I think they'd choose her over me any day of the week.
"Where are you going?" Tryst asks as I stride toward the door.
"I need to talk to your brothers and your cousins."
"They're your cousins, too," he reminds me.
"They like you better."
"You know that's not actually true, right? You're a pain-in-the-ass, but you're our pain-in-the-ass, Bastian. We know how much you do for us," he says quietly. "We appreciate the hell out of you for it."
"It's my responsibility."
"No, it isn't. We'reallresponsible for this place, but you shoulder the brunt of the work so we don't have to do it. We aren't stupid, man. We know how much you do and why. You may pretend it's because you're a domineering bastard, but we know you do it for us." His lips quirk into a grin. "Why the fuck do you think we let you get away with being the biggest dick on the planet?"
"I wasn't aware you let me get away with anything," I say dryly, lingering near the door. "I'm almost positive you guys have a rotating schedule of who is supposed to be in my office, pissing me off at any given time."
"You think we plan that shit?" He laughs loudly. "Please, motherfucker. The only one organized enough to draw up a calendar is Haven. The rest of us just enjoy seeing your eye twitch, and if we don't come here to bug you, we'd go weeks without seeing you because you're always too goddamn busy plotting world domination to take a break and just fucking chill with the rest of us."
I flip him off, which makes him laugh again.
"Before you go…I'm heading to San Diego for a few days."
My brows furrow as I turn a frown on him. "Why? I thought you were dealing with locating suppliers."
"Oliver is taking care of it. Wyatt called. His unit is being sent out on a mission." Tryst sighs. "He needs someone to watchThanos until Aunt Cadence and Uncle Walker get back from Europe."
"Shit," I mutter, scrubbing a hand through my hair. Wyatt is a SEAL. He brought a retiring bomb dog, Thanos, home from his last mission. The dog has PTSD and can't be boarded, so Tryst usually brings him here to stay when Wyatt gets called up. "Where's he heading?"
"Classified," Tryst says, his expression grim.
I sigh heavily. "Take whatever time you need. We'll handle shit here."
"Thanks." He holds his fist out to bump mine. "Just do me a favor and don't fuck things up with Constance before I get back. I'm going to be pissed if she quits while I'm gone."
"She isn't fucking quitting."
"She better not."
By late afternoon, I'vetracked down and run my plan by most of my cousins. They were all on board. Miriam even clued me in that Uncle Nathan did something similar for Aunt Brooke before they got married to ensure she always knew she had a home here, not just as his wife but because she belonged here.
I'm guessing he won't have a problem with me doing the same thing for Constance, but I won't make a decision that belongs to everyone without their input, too. I don't get to make a unilateral decision about a company that belongs to the entire family.
