“I thought we’d live together first,” Bryson said.
“That, I don’t understand.”
Bryson sighed. “She’s the one who wanted to take things slow. Get through the trial. Date. Do all the things we missed out on. Living together would have been one of those things.”
“Jesus, for being the smart brother, you’re really fucking stupid.” For theatrical purposes, Devon smacked his palm against his forehead. “Did you ever think that Riley might want the romance, the ring, the proposal, and the wedding? Not the shit in between?”
“She doesn’t play games.”
“I didn’t say that’s what she was doing,” Devon said. “However, I’d bet if you popped the question, her answer would surprise you.”
“This coming from a man who’s never been in love. Has no interest in getting married or having kids.” Bryson set another bottle aside and leaned against the wall. “And who’s a master at changing the subject.”
Devon smiled. “I’m rather good at the last one. But for the record, I might not have truly loved anyone, but I’m rethinking the family concept.”
“Are you serious?” Bryson’s eyes grew wide. “Because of Emery?”
“Not only because of her. I’d say some has to do with age and maturity. But if Mom heard me say that, she’d die of a fit of laughter.”
“Yeah, she thinks we’re still fourteen.” Bryson chuckled. “And Riley says that sometimes when we’re together, we act like grown men in diapers.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“No jokes. No judgment. Just brothers.” Bryson gave Devon that look that reminded him of their father. Furrowed brow. Tense lips. The look that said,you can trust me, but wait five minutes, and I’ll find ways to poke fun.It was the Boone way. It drove Devon crazy. “You really care about Emery, don’t you?”
“I haven’t been able to get her out of my brain for months. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I want more than a working relationship. More than friendship. It’s not fair that her career got destroyed by some asshole's greed, and now she has to choose between rebuilding her reputation and..." He gestured helplessly at nothing. "This is why I don't usually talk to you about women."
"Because I make too much sense?"
"Because I’m always waiting for the punchline.”
“No ball busting. Promise,” Bryson said. “You were there for me when Monica nearly destroyed me. I know what it's like to want something you can't have, to watch the person you care about struggle with impossible choices."
There was weight in his words that spoke to his own complicated history with Riley and the years they'd spent apart because timing had been wrong in so many ways.
"Give her time," Bryson continued. "Let her get a solid understanding of our business—how we work. Let her rebuild her reputation and prove to herself that she can succeed here. Then make your move."
Devon stared at his brother. "I’m not used to this side of you. Must be the Riley factor.”
“Having her back in my life has changed me. It’s also reminded me that timing matters. We’re asking Emery to takehuge professional risks, and she needs our help to rebuild her career. We need to let that breathe."
"So, what are you saying? Wait six months? A year? Until she doesn't need the job anymore and can tell us all to go to hell if she wants?"
"I'm saying wait until she's confident in her place here. Until she knows she's valued for her work, not just because she's sleeping with the boss." Bryson pulled another bottle from the rack, examining the vintage date. "Trust me on this—nothing kills a relationship faster than one person feeling like they can't succeed without the other person's protection."
Devon considered this, remembering the careful distance Emery had maintained during their tour, the way she'd pulled back when he'd kissed her in the vineyard. She'd been clear about her boundaries, about what she needed to feel safe in order to take this risk.
"When did you get so wise about relationships?" he asked.
"When I spent twelve years regretting every stupid thing I did wrong the first time around." Bryson set the bottle on the table next to the others. "Riley and I could have had something amazing if we'd been smarter about timing, about priorities—which is why I’m not rushing this proposal. It has to be perfect. Don't make the same mistakes I did."
“Wait a second.” Devon stood and closed the gap. “Are you planning to ask Riley to marry you?”
“I might be.” Bryson poked his brother in the chest. “But if you ruin this for me, I’ll kick your ass.”
Devon raised his hands and backed up with a smile on his face. “I just want to be there to watch you stumble over your non-existent romantic words.”
“Ye of little faith.” Bryson didn’t look up, but he did smile.
