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While I was older than Beau by three years, in maturity, that number doubled—at least. It wasn’t entirely his fault. As the oldest, I’d embraced every responsibility my parents asked me to. And many they hadn’t. Most people who knew both him and me guessed at least a decade separated us. Where he was the life of the party, I was the one in the background, orchestrating food and drink, and making sure our guests enjoyed themselves regardless of the type of event being thrown.
I raised my head again, realizing I should be paying attention to the wedding ceremony rather than getting lost in thought over my brother and Luisa, as I so often did.
As much as I knew it would hurt, I let my eyes drift to her again, stunned when it appeared she was looking at me rather than Beau. Just to be sure, I winked. When Luisa smiled, I did too.
While she and Seraphina shared the same long dark hair, the woman whose eyes I couldn’t stop myself from staring into was fairer. Rather than dark brown, her peepers—as my grandmum used to call them—were midnight black, and her complexion was more peaches-and-cream than her sister’s olive-toned skin.
The red gown she wore enhanced her beauty, if that were possible, as did the pink on her cheeks after spending the last two days in the sun.
Temperatures in Alamos, Mexico, the town where Tryst Avila’sEl Lugar de Curaciónranch was located and where Ridge and Seraphina’s wedding was being held, averaged thirty degrees Celsius—or in the eighties Fahrenheit—in December. As opposed to Cambria, California, the place where I lived the majority of the time and where today the high would be twenty degrees cooler.
Lost in thought, my gaze traveled down the length of Luisa’s body. She was a sprite of a thing, thin and athletic, yet her ample breasts strained against the bodice of her gown.
When my eyes returned to hers after my perusal, she raised a brow. Caught, I grinned and shrugged one shoulder. When she winked at me like I had, my cock stirred. A very inopportune moment for it to do so, given I was standing in full view of everyone gathered in the tiny chapel. When my brain conjured how she’d looked in the bikini she wore yesterday when we sat by the pool—tight abs, long shapely legs, and stiff nipples when the sun went behind a cloud—I angled my body farther right, toward the altar.
Moments later, when Tryst proclaimed Seraphina and Ridge “partners in the vast and wondrous universe” and suggested they kiss, I was flooded with happiness.
There’d been a time I doubted Ridge would ever marry. In the years I’d known him, he’d pined for Alex Avila-Butler, a woman in love with and married to another.
Prior to the start of the ceremony, Alex had accompanied Ridge down the aisle in a symbolic gesture of delivering him to the place where his heart would be given to Seraphina.
I shuddered and rolled my eyes. Since when was I so bloody sappy? Perhaps I should forgo my plan to remain in Alamos until after New Year’s Day, and return to Cambria—given watching Luisa with Beau would break my heart into smaller bits than it already was.
Or maybe I should visit Napa Valley, where my brother and I were in the doghouse with our mum for not spending Christmas or Boxing Day with her and our father.
The last I’d seen either of my parents was in October at the Wicked Winemakers’ Ball. Beau and I had agreed to participate in the night’s biggest fundraiser, the bachelor auction. The same woman had bid and won dates with both of us—our mother. When Alex Avila-Butler, the fundraiser’s organizer, asked why she’d done it, our mum informed her it was the only way she might have a moment’s time with her two sons.
I remained contrite about my mother’s motives when she did it, and still did now. However, it was later that same night that Ridge called an emergency meeting of Los Caballeros, enlisting us to find Luisa, who Seraphina had reported missing. It was what Los Caballeros did. When someone needed our help, we provided it any way we could.
I’d planned to visit my mum and dad two months ago, but I’d misunderstood their travel schedule and canceled my trip when I discovered they wouldn’t be in Napa.
As the guilt I felt over not seeing them since the auction night grew, it occurred to me that if I left later today or even in the morning, I would be able to join them as they delivered toys and gifts to every shelter within a fifty-mile radius of our family’s vineyard estate.
My mother and father were American—as Beau and I were—yet we had spent the majority of my childhood living in London and, thus, had celebrated many UK traditions.
December twenty-sixth was now known to most as a day for shopping. Originally, though, it was the day the aristocracy delivered “Christmas boxes” to those less fortunate. Until we were in our mid-twenties, our mum, who championed a number of charities, had insisted my brother and I accompany her and our father on their Boxing Day excursions.
I felt Beau nudge me and realized Luisa and Brix were almost to the rear of the chapel and I’d been holding up the recession of the wedding party. There weren’t any more attendants on Seraphina’s side, so I walked alone.
“Everything okay?” Beau asked when he followed me outside the chapel, where the bride, groom, Luisa, and Brix stood.
“Fine, fine. Just a tad nostalgic. Times are certainly changing. Two of the ten of us are now married.”
I was lying; however, I could hardly tell my own brother I couldn’t bear to watch Luisa pine over him. For the last several weeks, I’d had her undivided attention while Beau hosted Daphne, his childhood sweetheart who’d eventually become his on-and-off girlfriend. My guess was they were currently off since he hadn’t brought her to the wedding.
Vaile “Zin” Oliver, the man I considered my best mate, joined us. “You appear more melancholy,” he commented.
“Not at all. I couldn’t be happier for Ridge and Seraphina.” I wasn’t mustering enough enthusiasm to convince myself I meant my words, let alone Beau or Zin. I lowered my voice. “The truth is I’m feeling quite guilty for being away from our parents. I’m thinking of leaving shortly after the festivities.”
“Leaving to go where?” asked Luisa, who I hadn’t realized was standing behind me.
“Home, actually. Or rather to my parents’ home.”
“In London?”
“They live in Napa,” Beau answered before I had the chance.
“What he said,” I muttered, excusing myself to congratulate the bride and groom.
