Page 37 of Tempted Away

QUINN

“WHAT AREyou doing here, bro?”

I don’t look up as Nathan drops down on the chair across from me. Don’t know what I was thinking, coming here. I want to be alone.

“I think it’s obvious.” Bringing the glass up to my lips, I take a sip, savoring the taste of the cognac as it slides smoothly down my throat. Cognac is a drink that epitomizes luxury and decadence, and a top-shelf one—like the one that I’m currently swirling around in my glass—that’s been aged in French oak barrels for a minimum of four years comes with a hefty price tag. A year ago drinking even one would have been out of my reach. Tonight, I’m on my fourth. The sense of pride and accomplishment that fills me is something I’ll never take for granted. I deserve it after pouring my heart and soul into work for so long.

“That’s not what I mean. Where’s Bailey?”

My scowl is instant. I came here to get away from all of that shit. To quiet my mind for a bit.

“Just because we’re married doesn’t mean we have to fucking do everything together.”

“Whoa, easy man. What’s crawled up your ass?”

I shrug because there’s no way I’ll tell him. Just because he’s my brother doesn’t mean he needs to know everything about me.

Frosty Frog is bustling tonight, and I let my eyes roam, avoiding his stare that I can feel burning my face. They settle on Mya, a couple of tables over, offloading a round of drinks at a table filled with guys, a smile on her face. She’s always smiling. Nathan’s known her almost as long as I’ve known Bailey, but whereas Bailey and I dated and got married, they’ve always only been friends. As far as I know.

“Have you ever tapped that?”

Nathan’s gaze follows mine, and I’m just in time to catch the scowl on his face as he watches the guys ogling her ass as she walks away. Objectively I can say she has a nice ass, but it does nothing for me. Once she’s disappeared from sight, he looks away from the table. Yeah, there’s definitely something there.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask that.” His eyes are flashing, his mouth set into a tight line.

“That right there is why I ask,” I say, pointing my finger at him.

“It’s never been like that with us. I’m just…protective over her. And I’m not about to mess up our friendship for a quick roll in the hay.”

“Smart man,” I hum, taking another sip. The cognac is finally working its magic, curing some of the tension that’s taken up permanent residence in my body. There’s only one other thing that can make me feel as relaxed as I’m feeling right now, but I cut that thought off immediately. Don't want a boner in the middle of Frosty Frogs. “It’s good to play the field. Live large while you can before life ties you down.”

“What the hell has gotten into you?”

His question has resentment bubbling, jonesing to be let out. He’s had it so damn easy, whereas I lost everything.

“What would you have done if you didn’t have this place?”

His eyebrows rise in question.

“If Uncle James,”—I can’t hold back the sneer at the mention of his name—“didn’t give you all this on a silver platter.” A few drops of cognac hit my hand, and I lick it off, making a mental note to keep the sweeping gestures for the hand not holding my drink. It’s a damn waste.

Nathan leans forward in his chair, his scowl intensifying.

“He didn’t hand me a damn thing on a silver platter. Summers, while you were off picking blueberries and having the time of your life, I was here, learning how to brew and blend beer. Instead of spending time with my friends, I was working ten hours a day learning the ropes of this business.”

“And then he retired, and you now own it. Like I said, silver platter.”

He shakes his head. “You know I used what Mom left me as a down payment, and I pay a percentage of my profits monthly till the debt is settled.”

He pushes away from the table and stands up.

“I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but I’m not going to talk to you if you’re like this. When you stop being a dick, come find me.”

Just before the crowd swallows him up, he turns to me. “None of your drinks are on the house tonight.”

Fucker. He got his dream. Bailey got her dream. Me? I got nothing. Those blueberries he was sneering at? They are all I ever wanted. My summers weren’t just about picking. It was learning everything about the process. How to prepare the soil, the correct harvesting techniques, and how to dry them. There wasn’t anything I didn’t know about blueberries. And then Grandpa died, and I lost it all.

Forcing myself not to think about it, I swallow the rest of my drink in one gulp and slam my glass down. The past and all the shit that comes with it have been on my mind a lot lately, and I don’t know why. I work hard. I’m successful. I earn a hefty paycheck. I just reeled one of our biggest clients, and Phillip and my colleagues treat me like I walk on water. Phillip outright told me that if I keep it up, I’ll have my own office on the third floor. Everyone knows what that means. Only partners get to have an office on that floor.

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