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Wyatt’s brows hitched up as he cocked his head to the side. “I’m pretty sure I do.”
Quinn rolled her eyes. “So how’s life as a hotshot firefighter?” she asked, dividing her gaze between Wyatt and Griffin, who was standing beside him.
They shrugged simultaneously. Like me and Adam, they weren’t identical. Griffin shared the same gray eyes and dark blond hair coloring as the rest of our siblings, while Wyatt had dark hair and blue eyes like our mother and me.
McKenna appeared, stepping between Wyatt and Griffin. She looped her arms through theirs, squeezing as she beamed from one to the other. “You guys need to come home.”
Griffin chuckled. “We will.” Wyatt finished Griffin’s sentence with, “When the time is right.”
Blake meandered over with Fiona, chiming in with, “I need you guys at the winery and brewery.”
“Whatever for?” Quinn prompted.
For fuck’s sake, her voice alone sent a sizzle of heat through me. It wasn’t as if the sound of Quinn’s voice was new to me. Yet I was acutely aware of its throaty quality and the subtle rasp.
I distantly heard Blake explaining that our main brewer was moving to Juneau with his wife because she was expecting a baby and they wanted to be closer to family.
I felt an elbow nudge my side and glanced over at Adam. “What?”
“You’re staring.”
“What?” I repeated, not even catching on that he was teasing me.
“At Quinn. You know, the friend you swore you’d never be interested in.”
I scuffed my toe on the floor and quickly glanced out the windows. Of course, Adam would notice. He already knew I’d kissed her.
As if he could read my mind—which sometimes I wondered if he could, and I was pretty sure he wondered the same of me at times—he added, “I’m not the only one who’s noticed. It’s obvious.”
“Shut up,” I muttered.
Just then, a server walked by with a tray of beers. When he paused beside our group, I snagged one and took a long swallow. By some lucky miracle, as far as I knew, no one else in our family was prone to overdrinking like Jake.
Blessedly, Adam dropped any further comments about Quinn. There were enough people around to keep me distracted. I was uncomfortably aware of the effort it took not to keep glancing at Quinn and not to let my gaze linger on her.
Eventually, the event wound down, and we all filtered away. Some in the group made plans to meet in the bar at Wildlands Lodge where we were staying. I made the excuse that I was tired. As I walked through the reception area at the lodge to take the stairs up to my room, Wyatt fell into step beside me. I glanced over. “It’s good to see you.”
He flashed a smile. “Ditto.”
“Mom would love it if you guys came home,” I said.
His smile stretched a little wider. “We know. I’m seriously considering taking Blake up on coming back to do the brewing.”
“You could do that, and Griffin could handle the wine,” I replied. “The guy he has now does both, but he’s stretched pretty thin.” We had paused at the base of the stairs and began walking up together.
“He mentioned that,” Wyatt replied. “Maybe next spring. We have to make a decision if we’re going to stay on before fire season kicks in next year.”
“I vote for you to come home.” I paused on the landing of the second floor. “But I also understand you love what you’re doing. Enjoy it while you can. It’s not a career you can do forever anyway.”
Wyatt chuckled. “Definitely not.” He slipped his key card out of his front pocket, spinning it between his fingers. “I’m on this floor.” He paused, studying me for a few beats. “By the way, it’s obvious you and Quinn might be taking things to the next level.”
I didn’t even notice my mouth had dropped open until he reached over with the key card and tapped the bottom of my chin. I snapped it shut and rolled my eyes. “What are you talking about?” I hedged.
“Dude, you stared at her every chance you had. You’ve been besties for years now. Don’t screw it up. I always thought you’d make a good couple anyway.”
With that, Wyatt winked and turned, calling over his shoulder, “Good night.”
I jogged up the stairs to the top floor. As I turned down the hallway, my pulse picked up its pace. I had been so studiously avoiding Quinn, that I didn’t know if she was in the bar or if she was in her room.
