CHAPTER 9
My legs do better understand me, sir, than I understand
what you mean by bidding me taste my legs.
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, act 3, scene 1
“So, you and Lola? I didn’t see that one coming,” Ryan said as he hauled the last box to Portia’s new Jeep.
“Believe me, neither did I,” Braden mumbled under his breath. “The only way she’ll be ready for those auditors is if we spend every waking moment together—if she shadows me at Acropolis, works in the kitchen, manages the receipts, makes the orders. You know how much is involved in the restaurant business.”
Ryan slid the box in the backseat and slammed the door. “Believe me, I know. I get exhausted just thinking about how much work it takes to run Acropolis, especially without a general manager.”
Since money wasn’t an issue, Braden could’ve hired a general manager and a couple of assistant managers to run the restaurant while he oversaw the daily operations and took care of the business-end of the restaurant. The fact was, he enjoyed working and it was his reason for getting out of bed in the morning.
Now back inside the house, they threw their coats over the banister of the staircase. Braden faced Ryan with a wry smile. “I’m enjoying doing it myself. Sure, I might stretch myself too thin some days, but at least if something goes wrong, I have no one to blame but myself. Plus, I get to meet all the beautiful patrons of my establishment.”
Ryan slanted him a glance. “Yeah, but you barely have time to date.”
“I don’t need to date them to have sex.”
Ryan rolled his eyes, but said nothing. A few months ago, he would’ve laughed and pounded him on the back in agreement. How the mighty have fallen.
Braden stopped in the hallway several feet from the living room so the sisters wouldn’t overhear what he needed to say to his best friend. “Before Portia, you felt the same way. You didn’t date. You may have asked someone to attend one of your family’s fundraisers and you slept with her afterward, but you never had any intention of it developing into a relationship and neither did they. It was a convenient hook-up.”
Concern flashed in Ryan’s eyes. “Is that what my future sister-in-law is to you? A convenient hook-up?”
Braden thought about how close he and Lola had gotten to getting naked with each other in the last couple of days only to be interrupted each time and laughed. “No. Nothing with Lola is ever convenient.”
“Listen, you’re both adults and you’re both part of my family. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt or make the family gatherings tense because you two can’t stand to be in the same room together.”
Braden raked his hand through his hair. “I promise if that happened, I’d bow out.”
“You’re my family, too. Hell, I’m closer to you than my own brothers. The point is, I don’t want it to come to that.”
“It won’t,” Braden asserted. As long as she never discovered this thing between them had started because of the lease, everything would be fine. They’d part as friends and see each other at Portia and Ryan’s wedding and the occasional holiday.
As he and Ryan continued walking toward the living room, Lola’s husky voice carried into the hallway, “It’s not as though I’ll fall in love with him.”
His gut clenched with something unfamiliar, something bordering on the edge of pain.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at him and grinned before crossing into the living room. “Ready to go?” he asked Portia, offering a hand to pick her up off the floor.
A woman in love, she smiled brightly at him and accepted his help, then hugged him tightly when she’d gotten to her feet as if they hadn’t seen each other in years rather than minutes.
Lola hopped to her feet and threw her arms around her sister, who stood about a half-foot taller. “Thanks for the chat. Now you two crazy kids go home and start practicing on making me a niece or nephew to spoil.”
“Give us a little time. We’re not even married yet,” Ryan said.
“That’s why I said practicing,” Lola said with a wicked grin. “Ah, look, my sister’s blushing.” Sure enough, crimson stained Portia’s cheeks.
They said their goodbyes, leaving Lola and Braden alone once more. She flopped down on the couch and rested her head on the arm, spread out like a banquet upon which he wanted to feast. Soon.
He clapped his hands together. “No time for napping. We’ve got beautiful music to create together.”