“Well,” I said, trying not to go off even though I could wring Clara’s neck if I saw her, “that sucks. I’m super sorry. At least you’re here.” I gave him a reassuring smile. “For your other sister’s wedding.”
“Yes, for Selby’s wedding. It’s amazing.”
“You think?”
“Nah. I saw them ending up together right at the start, didn’t you?”
I splayed my hands. “Who didn’t?”
Both of us chuckled and finished up our meals.
Chapter Four
I’d been parked for no more than thirty seconds at the restaurant Thursday night before a rap of fingers came at my window, and I looked up to find Dean outside. He had a smile on his face, and thanks to the setting sun’s poor spread through the tall hedge that lined the far end of the restaurant lot, the slate of his eyes appeared twice as dark.
I opened my car door to slide straight out of the seat and into his arms. “Hey there.”
“Hi.” Dean held me close, his arms snug around my waist and his lips brushing mine before he sank us into a deeper, heavier kiss. The moment lasted a while until he pulled a short distance away.
“You came early,” I said.
“I did. I was hoping you’d do the same. I wanted to grab time alone with you.”
We weren’t supposed to meet Ryan until eight at this casual brewpub on the Oakland and San Leandro border, but Dean and I had both made it almost twenty minutes early. “Great minds think alike?”
“Guess so.”
I took a second to admire how good something as simple as a green T-shirt could appear over the broad span of his chest, and I ran my fingertips down his sternum with a wink. “Ryan texted. He might be a little late. It was his first jam session with some old pals tonight.”
“I don’t mind at all.”
“Me neither. I’m considering it a calm before the storm.”
Dean agreed. “It’s been a busy week for you, hasn’t it?”
“Yep.” He drew away and waited for me to grab my purse from the passenger seat, and after I shut my door, he took my hand and we started for the restaurant at a crawl. “I told you I took tomorrow off to help, yeah?”
“You mentioned it.”
“I don’t think I realized how crazy it would get with Ryan here, too. It’s all fine, just busy.” Dean nodded. “But I’m glad you’re meeting him. Okay, really glad.” My cheeks warmed and my heart fluttered. The wedding talk over so many dinners with Dean as the best man had been one thing, but this event had me bursting with excitement. I swung Dean’s hand between us, and even skipped for a step before he eyed me.
“Are you getting mushy on me, Maya?”
“Maybe a tiny bit.”
He clucked his tongue. “So, not just frisky over weddings and family, then? Mushy, too? Real mushy? Hmm,” he teased.
“I can’t help it! Am I driving you nuts?”
“No, but...”
Dean used the momentum of our swinging arms to curl me close again, guiding our steps off the edge of the cement walkway. There was a bush jutting into the path several feet from the restaurant’s entrance that he partially tucked us into, and his tall body shielded us from anyone inside who may be peering out. I wouldn’t have cared if they’d seen us, though, not with the look on his face when he bent to trail a series of light kisses along the edge of my jaw. The tender graze rendered me unable to focus on anything but Dean. I closed my eyes and tilted back my head, hanging on his deliberate pause, the touch of his lips enthralling me before he laced our fingers and clasped them on either side of my body in an attempt to hold me in place.
“Tell you what,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower with the course of his lips across my neck. “I’ll allow you this romantic wedding time, but when we get back to my house Saturday night, I’m taking on all...that...frisky.”
I felt the brief tease of his tongue along my jawline before he drew away, and I dared, “Ohh. Going to work it right out of me, huh?” As I nibbled on my lip, I opened my eyes to gaze at him, craving the way he talked to me, how he could turn me on with the deep rumble of his voice each time he gave instructions or described what lay ahead.
“Yes.” Dean squeezed my fingers, his eyes slitting and the edge of his jaw taut while he considered. That flex beneath his ear could light a fire in me, too, and in my wait for him to continue, I curled my toes against my flip-flops. “That’s what I’ll have to do to get you under control again. Tie you up, drive you mad.”
I uttered a low growl, the temptation bristling the hair at the nape of my neck. “Tell me more...”
Dean brushed his lips against my cheek, and then his husky tone poured into my ear, making me dip down my head at the rush of his breath. “It’s going to take a lot to get through to you, I see, because you’re so out of line right now.” He pulled away, his gaze sterner, his jaw rigid when he practically barked, “Why do I let you behave like this?”
I grinned despite the serious look on his face, because I knew this game well. Dean pressed our hands into my sides, delighting me with how tight he held on before letting go to drag his fingers along my arms in a tight clutch up to my shoulders. There, he squeezed me in a deft hold with a firm jerk of his head.
“I should slap some sense into you, you filthy girl, shouldn’t I?”
Oh, filthy. Hell, even slap wound me up tight. Dean rarely used either term, but as he said them, the sounds were so sharp my breath heaved. Dean would never slap me in the face after my history, so I knew he meant it in the most enticing, enthralling way—through a hard whack on the ass or the fleshier parts of my thighs. Then there was calling me “dirty” or “filthy” alongside our discipline play. That had revved me up like mad over time. Granted, when Dean had brought discipline into the mix all those months ago, I’d balked at the idea because I’d done nothing wrong. This hadn’t been helped by his poor introduction to it, either. He’d had a worried reaction to a car breakdown I’d had in the Half Moon Bay hills, which had set off his memory of what had happened to his ex, Kendra. After he’d filled me in on her catastrophic accident and explained that he actually did want to try it, I’d been game to explore the dynamic without the punishment approach. As we’d played with it more and had grown more comfortable experimenting together, I hadn’t minded the threat of a spanking, flogging or even paddling when he occasionally deemed me “bad.” I understood it was safe, and with him I loved to play along.
A trickle of arousal crept through my belly with the dig of his nails into my arms, the move frustrating me, since I’d have to sit on this lust for days. Dean gave me a firm shake for emphasis, and I let out a quiet growl. “Please.” I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to temper the ache before giving up and lowering my head to his chest with a close of my eyes. While we stood there, silent, Dean’s hands grew tender again, reassuring me with an ease down my arms to grasp my fingers. I whispered, “Why do I not get you alone until Saturday night? It feels much too far away.”
“I agree. I guess we’ll have to make do.”
“Why do you torture me?” I muttered.
Dean stepped back, dropping one of my hands before he gave me a hard yank toward the restaurant, and I followed in a joke of a mournful trudge. The urge to race to his side hit me and after I did, I leaned my head against his shoulder. We were almost to the steps that led inside when I heard my name.
I spun around. Ryan lifted his fingers in a curt wave, then rolled up the window of the shocking yellow rental car he’d picked up. He’d nabbed the stall next to the handicap spot right in front of the restaurant, and since he wasn’t more than ten feet away, I tugged on Dean’s hand in the reverse direction of the door. “Ryan’s here!”
Dean followed me back to where Ryan stomped onto the curb, and the two of them surveyed one another. Ryan’s usual smile wa
s absent, his eyes pinched at the corners, and I cocked my head in surprise. He scrutinized Dean closer than I’d expect from my open-minded, even-keeled brother. I squeezed Dean’s hand and stared into his face, hoping that it didn’t come off weird for him. Maybe Ryan had just had a crappy jam session?
I said, “Dean, this is my brother, Ryan. And Ryan, this is my boyfriend, Dean.” The excitement that had been brewing to introduce two people whom I could safely say were the most important men in my life snagged my attention, and I pressed a hand to Dean’s arm with a gesture at Ryan.
“Nice to meet you,” Dean said. His deep, commanding tone had been replaced with his natural, light charm and he stuck out his hand. “Maya talks about you all the time.”
“Yeah. Heard a lot about you,” Ryan said. He shook Dean’s hand before shoving his into his pocket, and while he sized Dean up, I watched Ryan. He was usually so sweet, which was why I’d figured he and Dean would get along well. Tonight, he was being quiet and stiff.
In fact, the quiet brewing suddenly added to the disparities between them. Ryan was all rocker boy, with his long hair and band T-shirt so vintage he’d bought it whenever the underground band had been popular. He wore dusty work boots to Dean’s leather oxfords, and his jeans were tattered and faded compared to the dressy dark denim ones Dean had put on. I cupped my hands together in a clap, expecting the sound to jar someone to speak, but neither of them did.
Weird.
Another patron exited his car, walking past Ryan’s rental, and I gestured at the sporty monstrosity Ryan had driven over in. “You know your rental is awful, dude?”
Dean chuckled, but Ryan flipped his hand out to the side, indifferent. “It works.”
“So, are you enjoying your stay so far?” Dean asked.
“Sure. It’s chill.”
I’d never heard Ryan so short on words, and I opted to play buffer and get us inside. I looped an arm with his and bumped his hip, then steered him around to hook my other arm with Dean’s. “How about we head in for dinner?” I asked.
“Cool,” Dean said.
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.
I hadn’t a clue what was going on with Ryan, so I settled on ignoring whatever hovered in the air as we headed in. When I asked him about his session, he didn’t elaborate much beyond mentioning his pals Don and Mark joining him and Rico, and I explained their connection to Dean. We’d reached the podium to wait for the hostess, and Dean said, “I hear you’re fantastic.”
“I’m okay,” Ryan mumbled.
My brow furrowed until the hostess appeared with a bubbly greeting, and she listened while Dean took charge and indicated there were three of us. After she grabbed menus and led us to a back booth by the window, Dean paused for me to slide into the seat and sat in the space beside me, while Ryan seated himself across from us. Both of them peeked at their menus until Ryan eyed Dean again.
“You’re Alex’s best man? I can’t picture you two as pals.” Ryan hadn’t hung with Alex a ton before he moved across the country, but I figured I’d fed him enough descriptions of Dean and his related field for their friendship to not have been such a stretch.
Dean stalled, looking at me, then squarely at my brother, and I knew that in his shrewd way he, too, was catching on to Ryan’s awkwardness. “We met through work. I’m an architect, and there was a convention back in Colorado years ago. And with Maya and me, we’ve buddied up more over the last few months.”
I jumped in. “Yep. And Selby wanted to pair her maid of honor up with the perfect date. Worked out well, I think.” I rubbed Dean’s arm before kissing his cheek, glad to see the move relaxed him despite the weirdness coming from my brother. The waiter’s timing couldn’t have been better, either, since he arrived then. His quick run-through of the specials felt like he might have hit a reset button on our encounter thus far, and I took a last perusal of the menu while he scribbled down beer and dinner orders of a burger for Ryan and a chicken-fried steak for Dean.
“I’ll take a cider and a Cobb salad,” I said, handing over my menu.
Ryan blurted, “Salad?” His voice was rich with disdain and motivated the waiter to hustle away. “Have you stopped eating, or what?”
I stared at him, confused. Beside me, Dean’s body tensed enough for me to feel it in the shift of the booth seat cushion. “Are you kidding right now? I love food. I ate a super late lunch.”
“Hmm. Just checking.” Apparently, Ryan was in protective mode, which was ridiculous over a simple matter like food. His vibe across the table felt off all over again, and I took a sip of my water, debating how best to move forward.
I pivoted to face the two of them better and rested my forearm over Dean’s shoulders. My sole option was to fill the silence. They were bound to get along at some point. I just needed to find the connection. “Anyway,” I said, “where were we? Oh, yes. Dean is an incredible architect. He’s done work on these gorgeous luxury homes and complexes all over the area. They’re amazing, Ryan. He even had a guy in L.A. call up here to get his design insight! It’s wonderful. It’s also sad, because he keeps having to fly down there.” I slipped my hand down and onto Dean’s leg and flashed him a mocking pout. “What will I do without you for two and a half weeks?”
Dean didn’t manage a response before Ryan stood from the booth. “I’m going to hit the bathroom.” He was off faster than either of us could say anything, and I examined Dean, who took a sip of his water.
“You okay?” I asked him.
“I’m fine. Your brother’s kind of...”
He didn’t finish. I said, “What?”
“Never mind.” Dean pinched his lips tight, but he gave me nothing. I frowned. This wasn’t at all going like I’d planned. Something was definitely up with Ryan, but I wondered if maybe the East Coast and what had happened with Clara had affected him more than I’d thought. Dean was reading it all, but he wasn’t saying anything. The static coming from him rubbed me wrong. I took his hand, stroking the back of it, and in his silence, the waiter returned with our drinks.
“Here you are. And your food will be up soon,” he said.
“Great. Thank you,” I said.
“Yes, thanks.” Dean glanced back at me after the waiter left and I raised a hand to his neck to caress the edge of his jaw.
“I don’t know what’s up with him, but I think he’ll chill, okay?” The words felt weird on my tongue. When wasn’t Ryan chill?
Dean folded his hands once Ryan came back and settled in his seat.
“Food’s up soon,” I said.
“Okay.” Ryan tapped his knuckles on the table before saying, “What does your trip entail, Dean?”
I exhaled. Finally, a conversation starter. Dean straightened up to answer. “Well, we’ve pretty much finished the design stage. That’s taken about four months. The complex has two dozen units he wants to gut, and we’ve been working on the permits for that. Now it’s a matter of coordinating between my team and the construction crew while they get rolling.” I bobbed my head, having heard this multiple times. I’d seen many of Dean’s drawings and actual buildings he’d finished, too, and his work never ceased to impress me.
Ryan didn’t appear as fascinated as I was, his mouth firm through Dean’s details until our food arrived, but at least he was listening without looking skeptical like he had before. The three of us exchanged commentary about how tasty everything was sure to be, and then we dug in, quiet. It wasn’t until partway through that one of them—Dean—attempted to interact more.
“Now, Ryan, do you play guitar full time, or...?”
“Nope. The gigs aren’t steady at all where I’m at. Too much talent, vying for time.”
“That’s too bad.”
Ryan shrugged. “I do electrical work to pay the bills.”
“Do you like it?”
“Not rea
lly.”
Dean sort of chuckled, but from there the two of them didn’t volley back and forth with more conversation like I’d hoped. Dinner become strictly that: dinner, and all about the meal. Ryan remained focused on his burger, and I chewed on my salad in stunned silence, annoyance starting to work its way through me. Shouldn’t these two at least try? For me? They weren’t being assholes, but they weren’t being their usual selves, either, and that was unnerving.
Ryan took a dramatic gulp of his beer. The liquid was halfway gone, as was most of his burger, and he stopped to clean his fingers off on his napkin with an intense stare at Dean. “When do you leave town?”
Dean finished his bite. “Weekend after next.”
I thought for a second. “You’re in town for a week or so after that, aren’t you, Ryan?” He nodded. “Good. I can hang with you while Dean is away.” I grinned first at Ryan, then Dean. They gave me nothing back, and I bit my tongue. This was beyond painful. I said, “But we’ll hang out before then, too. You know what I mean.”
They went back to their meals, and for the rest of our sit at the table, I proceeded to fill the air babbling about the wedding, realizing how funny it was that as maid of honor, my life had still managed to be mostly occupied with wedding details. Once I finished rambling about what Selby and I had to accomplish tomorrow, I said, “I’ll be full-on scatterbrained helping Selby out, but at least you two will be able to hang. That’s good.”
Okay, so it was a tad sarcastic. But both of them ignored me, anyway.
Fuck this.
Our waiter returned with the check. He got the full force of the happy face I knew and loved from Ryan, but it vanished when he and Dean started bickering over who would pay the bill. They both had it pinned beneath the tip of their fingers like a pair of two-year-olds fighting over a toy, and Dean insisted in a more aggressive manner than I could fathom.
The Reward Page 5