“Why Tate?”
He cocked his head. “Why not Tate?” he asked carefully.
“I run the bar, Tenor.”
He nodded, but the corners of his jaw flexed. Tenor was mellow, but he hated explaining himself. “I don’t see you as often as him. We like to talk about the ranch and distillery.”
And make decisions about them between themselves.
“We don’t want to bother you when you’re working,” he added.
“It’s literally my job.”
“You have a forty-plus-hour-a-week job that takes precedence over this place.”
“I’ve juggled both for years.”
He lifted a heavy shoulder. “Exactly. Anyway, when you and Wynter come up with holiday specials, we think you should aim for three to four new cocktails, with a few that can make an annual return.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea, but with Wynter being a new mom, her time would be more limited. “I’ll talk it over with her.”
“Teller thought December would be a good time to start.”
Which meant that was what Wynter and I would do. “Three to four Christmas specials, coming right up.”
He narrowed his eyes at the bite in my tone. “Okay. I’ll, uh, let you be.” He started to circle around the bar and head for the entry into the main part of the distillery.
“Sure. Just let me know what else you and Tate decide about the bar.”
He paused and glanced over his shoulder. I got a small nod from him and then he was gone.
I’d been a little catty, but seriously. Tenor never stopped in to chat about his ideas. Just to order me to complete them.
I punched through the rest of the reports. Summer breezed in, rubbing her hands together and adjusting the neckline of her cowl-neck cream sweater. The offices upstairs could get cold with the old windows.
“So. You ready to talk about what happened the other night?” she asked.
I’d almost forgotten about the way we’d left the party and how unwilling Gideon was to talk about it. Last night had kept my thoughts occupied since I’d woken this morning. Teaching multiplication tables when I’d rather dwell on the possessive sounds he’d made was hell on my concentration.
“He’s still adjusting to talking to his dad again.” I wasn’t going to tell my sister I didn’t know. I had no idea why Gideon had pulled us out of the shop with no warning, and he had made it clear he wouldn’t tell me about it.
I could get angry. Or I could enjoy waking up in his arms while he was in my bed. Option two, please.
She leaned on the bar and put her chin in her hand. “Are you ever going to tell me what’s really going on?”
I sighed. My sisters and I were close. We weren’t secretive—until we were. For years, Summer hadn’t told us she’d broken up with her high school boyfriend right before he’d gotten drunk, crashed his pickup, and died. Only recently had she opened up to anyone about it,starting with Jonah, her ex’s brother and now her husband.
Before that, Wynter had gone to Colorado to low-key stalk her husband. He’d been a foster kid at our house when we were little. She’d only told us she was in Colorado for work, not why.
Who knew what Junie was keeping to herself. She was all up in our business when she had time, but when it came to sharing what was going on in her life, she wasn’t specific.
I could throw all that back in Summer’s face like I had when she’d confronted me with the others. Yet I couldn’t deny I needed to talk to someone. My husband was giving me all sorts of feels. He was standoffish but unexpectedly thoughtful. He blew my mind in bed but asked for nothing for himself. And now he was helping his dad, but he hadn’t sounded thrilled about it. Yet he’d skipped a day of catching up on a demanding job to do it. I didn’t buy that it was only to get into his dad’s good graces to influence the sale.
I made my decision. “If you tell any of our brothers, I’m going to fly to the other end of the world and live there forever.”
Her light brows notched up. She hated flying. My threat was a personal blow, but I meant it. Our brothers would drive Gideon out of town if they knew why he’d married me. It wouldn’t matter that I had wanted something out of the deal.
Something I wasn’t going to get.
