Page 5 of Pure Seduction (Chamberlin Brothers 1)

Speaking of fall-on-your-ass drunk, I turned to see Justin Chamberlin draping his leather-clad arms over the deck railing.

Of all the brothers, Justin was best known for his…conquests around town. His day-old scruff and the strong scent of whiskey that wafted off him pretty much confirmed that he’d stopped off at his local haunt after the funeral.

I had to admit, I envied him for that. The likelihood he’d remember much of this tomorrow was minimal.

“What are you two doin’ out here? The party’s in there.”

I grimaced at the obvious sarcasm. The pain of losing a parent—even one you weren’t particularly fond of—was something I knew about firsthand. I’d lost my mother right out of high school, and it had been brutal. It had taken a long time for me to come to grips with her no longer being in my life, and to this day I still found myself wondering what she would do whenever things got too tough.

I tried to rack my brain for some sort of excuse as to why we were out here. But when nothing came, Justin’s attention caught on the commotion inside, and he rolled his eyes.

“Ah, okay, he’s here and we’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“Do you care if I do?” He ran a hand through his messy, chin-length hair, and then took another look over my shoulder before shaking his head. “Of course he has to look all I’ve got it together and shit. Would it really have been so much to ask that he was a little less than perfect?”

I had to admit, I’d been thinking the exact same thing.

Justin patted the pocket of his jacket in search of his ever-present cigarettes. “Is Ryan here yet?”

Willa shook her head. “Haven’t seen him since earlier. He said he had to come back and check on something with the vines.”

“Great. At least tell me Bree stayed.”

I nodded. “She did. The last time I saw her, she was trying to talk one of my guys into a bottle of scotch.”

Justin chuckled. “Sounds like her.”

“It does. But if you could kindly ask her to do it when I’m not in charge, that would be amazing. The last thing I need is your mother thinking I’m handing out alcohol to your underage sister.”

“Pretty sure she’d get a pass today.”

I was pretty sure Brianna Chamberlin would get a pass every day, being the youngest in the family and the only girl. But that didn’t mean I’d be responsible for liquoring her up.

“Either way, you might want to go and track her down before she gets into any trouble.”

Justin gave a mock salute and then pushed off the railing, and as he made his way up the stairs and across the deck, Willa leaned into me.

“You do realize you just sent Justin to keep his sister out of trouble, right?”

I nodded, but my attention had once again focused on the man who had taken the spotlight off the man who’d been buried today.

“Laurel?”

“Huh?”

“You want to head back inside?”

Yes. “No. I think I’m just going to sit out here a little longer. You don’t mind, do you?”

Willa took my hand and squeezed again. “Not in the least. Take all the time you need. Or, you know, until Emily comes looking for you wondering why her daughter is dancing drunk on one of the tables.”

I whipped my head around, horrified at the thought.

“Not ready for jokes just yet? Okay. We’ll just sit here until you feel like heading back inside.”

That sounded better. Much better. Maybe by that time, Noah would’ve slipped out and left town without us even having to speak to one another—after all, it wouldn’t be the first time.

3

Noah

IN HINDSIGHT, I should’ve waited for Ryan to return before deciding to throw myself into Chamberlin’s overly enthusiastic gossip mill. But hindsight was 20/20, and as I stood there in the doorway of the winery’s tasting room, I suddenly felt like the latest attraction at the zoo.

You could all but hear a pin drop, and when it seemed no one in the place was about to speak up, I cleared my throat and asked, “Could someone please point me in the direction of my mom, Emily?”

Frantic whispers flowed around the room as inquisitive eyes gave me a thorough once-over. I’d expected this kind of reaction. It’d been years, and I looked different. But it wasn’t as though I was unrecognizable.

“Noah?” At the sound of my name, I turned to see Miss Betty, who owned the local bakery, with her arms outstretched. “My gosh, it is you.”

“Miss Betty,” I said, returning her embrace. “I was looking for my mom.”

“Of course, of course you were. I’m so sorry about your father.”

“Thank you.” Was that even the right thing to say? I had no idea.

“My, my, didn’t you grow up into a handsome thing? How long has it been?”

---