Page 75 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

She tilts her head, bright-eyed. “It’s okay. This beats dying of awkward silence any day.”

“Yeah, it does.”

As I lean in to kiss her cheek, Wells says, “Remember, you can mute live action.”

“Jesus,” I say, and we all laugh.

“We’re never living this down, are we?” Ellie asks.

“Hell no,” Wells says.

Ellie puts her hand on my leg and says, “Good thing Seth’s worth the scandal.”

“Even though he’s a man-baby when he’s sick?” Victory asks.

“More like a drama queen,” Ellie says, then looks adoringly at me as she covers my lap with the blanket and says, “But I think I’ll keep him.”

As the teasing continues, our overheard tryst morphs into the kind of joke that holiday toasts are made over, and I hope to hell Ellie wants what she said as much as I do.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Seth

I never knew so much could change so fast. The three weeks since I asked Ellie to come with me to my mother’s gallery opening have flown by. My life has found a new rhythm with work, travel, family, and Ellie in the middle of all of it. Word spread fast through my family’s grapevine that Taylor Mitchell was not only a woman but also my sweetheart. The shock wore off quickly, replaced by relentless teasing, which I probably deserved since I’ve done my share of doling it out to my siblings. Wells still calls our conference call debacle the “corporate plot twist of the decade,” though he hasn’t divulged the specifics about that incident to anyone other than Victory.

Smart man.

Jared, on the other hand, has never said a word about that call. That sly bastard’s taunts are relayed in knowing looks and a chuckle every time I suggest a conference call. Ellie has learned to deflect with humor, and she now owns that situation with pride, which I fucking love.

I’ve been spending more time in Port Hudson. My mornings are spent with Ellie snuggled against me instead of early-morning conference calls, and steamy nights are with my girl safe in my arms instead of midnight deal analysis and strategizing. Between two business trips, endless meetings, and the Australia warehouse deal coming through, we’ve had dinners with Sutton and Flynn, spent time with Becca, Frank, and Barney, who feels like part of the family, and we’ve taken a few other shelter dogs that needed love on outings as well.

We’ve also been training for a small caving excursion I set up for us and Frank next month. We’ve managed a few hikes and a couple of trips to an indoor climbing center. Frank struggled more than he’d admit with the climbs, which I expected, but I never want to take away from a strong man’s belief in himself. When I noticed his fingers giving him trouble, I told him my wrist was acting up and bowed out beside him. He probably saw right through it, but if he did, he didn’t let on. He was happy to watch Ellie scale the rock wall like a freaking pro.

Now both of our families are gathered in a private dining room at the Grill, one of my restaurants, for cocktails and dinner before we head off to the gallery. Ellie has met my family over video chats, but tonight is the first time we’re all together as a group, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

The room is alive with conversation, and my mother is her calm, beautiful self as she chats her way around the room, making everyone feel important. Never one to dress for attention, her silvery-blond waves fall loose past her shoulders of her long, plum wrap dress, the waist cinched with the worn leather belt she’s had since I was a teenager. She’s wearing flat-bottom black boots, and a silver pendant dangles from her neck, catching the light every time she laughs.

The show is sold out, the press is coming, her colleagues and friends from around the globe will be there supporting her, and she has no idea about any of it. Unfortunately, a snowstorm is making its way up the coast, and Pepper’s, Sutton’s, and Wells’s families weren’t able to make it tonight. I know my mother would have loved to see them. Clay planned ahead, and he and Pepper arrived a few days ago.

As I pour myself a drink at the bar, I spot Ellie across the room chatting with Victory, Clay, Pepper, and my grandmother. She’s gorgeous in a simple black dress that hugs her in all the right places, her hair trailing down her back. Every time she looks my way, her cheeks flush, and I know she’s thinking about how close we came to being late tonight because I couldn’t keep my hands off her. I knew I leaned on her professionally, but until now I hadn’t realized how much of my personal life she’s quietly held together. She helped coordinate this event, keeping track of key elements I’d delegated to others, making sure nothing fell through the cracks. She’s always been there for me, keeping the moving parts of my life aligned without asking for anything in return. We were a team long before I knew her as Ellie.

“You’d better be careful looking at your gal like that,” my grandfather says as he and my father sidle up to me. “You’re liable to catch the room on fire.”

“If that happens, I’ll buy another restaurant, Gramps, because I have no intention of stopping.”

“Attaboy,” my father says. “Taylor and her family fit right in, don’t they?”

“It sure looks that way,” I say, though I had no doubt they would.

“Frank’s a wild one,” my grandfather says. “Said he wrangled you and Taylor into snowboarding last weekend.”

“He did, and he ignored every word of advice, face-planted half a dozen times, and ended the day grinning like he’d won gold. He’s been rubbing his shoulder ever since, but he insists he only tweaked it a little.”

“My kind of guy,” my grandfather says. “And Taylor’s something special to keep up with him.”

“Yes, she is.” I hold up the bottle of bourbon. “Shall I pour you one?”

“You bet,” my grandfather says.