Page 4 of Aaron

“Part of the ride-or-die service. Later.” Her laugh as she ends the call is so much better than how she sounded at the beginning.

After plugging the phone into the charger, I take a deep breath and glance around my room. Am I forgetting anything I need? It’s not like I’m going to Outer Mongolia, but who knows what’s available on that mountain. From the way Jac talked about it, it seems pretty remote.

Cavolo. I need to get my trip booked. I zip down the hall to the living room, where I left my laptop last night. Good thing Jaclyn told me where she’d landed yesterday. Was it really only yesterday? As I shake my head, I search for flights from San Francisco to Asheville Regional Airport. I cross my fingers that there’s a flight today, and hold my breath as I wait for the options to load. It would be so much easier with access to a private plane, but since that’s not happening, I’ll have to take what I can get.

My family is wealthy, and they probably could buy one. I never thought about it, but there’s no need. They rarely leave New York—a good thing for me. The last thing I need is them showing up unannounced and catching me in my jammies, writing in the middle of the day—not working at JNG like I told them.

Eight hours? Cazzo! At least there’s only one stop, and I’ll get there before dark. It’s not early enough for the wedding at two, but I can still carry out Operation Rescue Bestie if needed. If not, I’ll stick around a few days and see whether Andrew is a worthy husband for Jaclyn.

A few clicks later, I have successfully booked my flight and arranged the car service—maybe. They were kind of iffy about someone being able to take me to the mountain. That’s a problem for Future Cheri. Present Cheri needs to get her ass in the shower and finish packing.

My adrenaline is pumping, and I’m reconsidering the double shot of espresso I drank earlier. Back in my room and contemplating what to wear, I decide on my pink Daddies Do It Better T-shirt and my favorite pair of jeans—worn, torn, and scribbled on. My parents would lock me in my room before letting me step into public like this, not as their perfectly coiffed daughter. Just thinking about it makes me grin until I catch the time.

Focus, Cheri. If I don’t hustle, I’m never going to catch my flight. I race into the bathroom, and take the quickest shower ever. I’ve already shut off the water when I realize I still have conditioner in my hair. Have I mentioned I’m not a morning person? Because I’m totally not, and not just because I stay up half the night writing. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with mornings. After I graduated and started writing full time, I figured mornings would be something I slept through—joke’s on me.

As I pull my mostly dry mahogany hair into a ponytail, I catch my reflection. My skin is pale, with a smattering of freckles across my nose, and brown eyes that make me look like a doll. Normally I don’t care, but it won’t work for today. It’s totally fixable with a little makeup. A few swipes of mascara, some under-eye concealer, and blush help me look almost human, or at least not like the walking dead. I grab everything I need, head to the bedroom to tuck it all into the suitcase, and zip it closed with a sigh of relief.

My bedside clock reminds me I have fifteen minutes until the Uber to the airport arrives. With no time to dawdle, I get dressed, then pull on my ankle boots. I probably should wear something more comfortable in case I have to walk, but that’s another Future Cheri problem. Time is ticking, and I need to pack my laptop and journaling supplies—I don’t go anywhere without them.

Jaclyn would laugh if she could see how I’m semi-panicking. Santinis don’t panic, but damn, I’m about as close as I get right now. The car will be here any minute, and I am supposed to be downstairs already. Cavolo! Where’s my phone?

When I run into the bedroom, I see it connected to the charger on my nightstand. I grab both and shove the charger into the backpack with my laptop and the phone into my pocket, then take a quick look around, hoping I’m not forgetting anything.

Hearing my mother’s words, I pull the comforter up to fix the bedding and see a little furry foot sticking out from under my pillow. “Oh God, Maxy, I almost forgot you. I’m so sorry!”

The fluffy, light brown goldendoodle has been my best friend and travel companion since I got him for my fifth birthday. He looks just like our real Maximo, the goldendoodle. We lost him last year, but my Maxy is my forever friend and has gotten me through so much. How could I forget him? “Sorry, Maxy, you need to hide out in my backpack for this trip, but I promise I’ll give you lots of love later.”

I drop a kiss on his furry, light brown head, I tuck him in with my laptop, snacks, and lip gloss. That was a close call. After checking one more time, I flip off the light switch and as I walk out of the bedroom, I make sure everything else is off before racing out of the apartment to the elevator pulling my suitcase behind me. The doors slide shut, and I blow out a breath of relief that I made it when my phone vibrates.

“Okay, I almost made it,” I mutter as I read the message that Lucy, my driver, has arrived.

two

Aaron

“Want me to drop you at your cabin?” Adrian asks as he nears the main homestead. I hitched a ride back with him after Andrew and Jaclyn’s wedding at the courthouse in Maple Creek.

“The homestead is good,” I reply just before he takes the turn to head to the cabins.

His side-eye speaks louder than words, and I shrug. It’s the end of the quarter, and I have a shit ton of work to do. It’s not like I’m the one who got married today.

“You’re as bad as Andrew. You do realize that, right?” He pulls the truck to a stop on the driveway in front of the huge cabin-style building. We grew up here, not this house—that had to be rebuilt ten years ago after the fire —but it feels like home.

“Maybe I am. What of it? Someone needs to make sure we stay solvent,” I retort, then I open the passenger door of his truck and step out.

“JNG is more than ‘solvent’. You could take the afternoon off,” he mutters, but I still hear him as he turns off the ignition and gets out of the vehicle.

“Yeah, fine. But why would I? I don’t have a woman waiting for me? If I go to my cabin, I’d end up working there anyway. It’s easier here.”

Adrian nods and follows me up the porch steps and into the house.

When I feel his presence behind me, I sigh. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, bro? If you’re going to be here, I might as well stay, too. I’m still working with Tristan to track down details about Mercier and what the feds are up to. Andrew might have married Jaclyn to keep her safe, but no one—not even him—believes that is the only reason. We know he fell for her as soon as he saw her. If I can keep the feds from breathing down their necks, I will.”

Adrian’s reasoning is as valid as mine, but damn. Brothers! I love all of them, but sometimes they annoy the fuck out of me. Like now. I was looking forward to being left alone with my numbers.

Now he’ll be up and down from his office every time he gets the itch to talk to someone. Normally he’d be bugging Andrew, but with our CEO unavailable as he and Jaclyn celebrate their wedding night, I’ll be the lucky one. Andrew and I are the only ones with offices on the main level. The rest of my brothers have offices downstairs in the basement/bunker. If you don’t know where the entrance is, you’d never find it.