CHAPTER TEN

“H ave a good day, buddy,” Dom said, kissing Silas on the head before his son boarded the school bus Thursday morning.

“You too, Dad.” He paused on the top step of the bus. “The forecast said rain, so I packed my rain pants.”

Dom gave him a thumbs up. “I think that was a great idea.”

Once all the kids were loaded onto the bus, Dom and his brothers spun around and walked back toward the pub in the drizzle.

“So …” Wyatt probed, bumping his shoulder into Dom’s, “how’d it go last night?”

Dom grunted. Unwilling to dish about what had transpired between Chloe and he. Because it really wasn’t anybody’s fucking business. Just because they were his brothers did not mean they had unfettered access to his love life—or lack thereof. The other three may be happy in new relationships and be fine discussing things, but Dom was not. Just because they shared parents, property, and a business didn’t mean he shared everything with them.

“How’d what go?” Clint asked.

Fuck.

Wyatt and his big fucking mouth.

“Dom had me come over and sit while Silas slept so he could go back down to the bar when Chloe was closing up.”

Bennett, Clint, and Jagger’s brows all lifted high. Normally, Jagger didn’t walk the kids to school with them, but they were going to have a staff meeting—the five of them that morning—so he joined them to the bus stop.

“And?” Clint asked.

“And?” Dom mocked, still not willing to give them an inch.

He fucked up. It was a one-time mistake that never needed to be repeated. There was no need to discuss it.

“What happened?” Bennett asked. “You can’t leave us hanging.”

Dom rolled his eyes. “Nothing …”

“They totally boned,” Jagger said with a scoff. “He’d be dismissive very quickly and far more casual if nothing happened. But look at these shoulders.” Playfully, he grabbed Dom by the shoulders from behind and gave them a squeeze. “So damn tense. A guilty man wouldn’t be this tightly wound. Not to mention the hickey on his neck. You can’t tell me you burned yourself straightening your hair and expect me to believe it.”

Fuck.

“That’s tricky,” Clint mused, the look of surprise in his eyes clouded by one of concern. “You’re her boss, bro.”

Dom exhaled loudly in irritation. “Yeah, I know.”

“Shit,” Bennett breathed, tugging the hood of his dark-green jacket over his head. “Could this come back on us?”

Dom wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he didn’t think Chloe was the type, but honestly, he had no clue. It very well could come back on them. Because his reasoning for going down to the pub last night was flimsy. He simply wanted to see her. What happened after that wasn’t part of his plan—because he’d had no fucking plan.

He just really wanted to see her again. So he called Wyatt and asked him to come sit with Silas so that Dom could go back to the pub. That was it.

The drizzle had faded to a light mist by the time they reached the pub.

“So, like … are you guys together now?” Clint asked. “How does this work? Because last I heard, you wanted her gone. What the hell changed?”

“I realized she’s not as bad as a lot of people out there.”

All four of them snorted.

Dom rolled his eyes again. “And she’s really good at her job. The staff like her. The customers like her.”

“And she’s a better fucking bartender than you are,” Wyatt added.

Dom slid his brother some side-eye.

Wyatt made a dismissive noise in his throat. “No sense denying it. We all know it’s true. Besides, the island is buzzing about her cocktails. It’s definitely helped bring in more business—which we need.”

“Be that as it may,” Dom went on, “we decided that it was a mistake and will not happen again.”

All four of his brothers laughed.

“You both decided? Or you decided?” Jagger asked. “Because there’s a big difference. If it was you , we could be looking at a scorned woman, which isn’t good for business. She could sue. Or even worse—quit.”

Dom made a noise of irritation deep in the back of his throat.

“And I said it was a one-time thing with Brooke,” Clint reminded them. “And look how that turned out.”

Wyatt and Bennett nodded as well.

“Well, you three moved them into your house. That’s not happening here. She’s at the hostel and there she will stay. And besides the half hour or so where we overlap at the bar, I won’t need to see her. We can keep things professional.” He wanted to add that Chloe was the one who was persistent that they didn’t wind up without their clothes on again. She was the one who kept reminding them both that he was her boss.

“Who said it was a one-time thing?” Bennett asked, repeating the question from earlier. “Because if this does come back to bite us, we need to know.”

Dom let out a huff and hung his head. “She did.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look at any of his brothers, but he was sure he knew the faces of shock they were giving him. To be fair, he had a similar sentiment himself.

As much as he knew she was right, he couldn’t deny that he was disappointed—among a litany of other emotions—when she said they couldn’t make that mistake again.

All he wanted to do right now was make the mistake over and over and over again. In various positions and locations. The sound of her coming was forever burned into his brain like an earworm he knew he shouldn’t like, or want to hum along to, but did anyway.

Clint held open the door to the brewery for them all and they filed in, shaking the raindrops from their jackets and hoodies.

As per tradition, whenever they had a “business meeting” Clint poured them all a glass of his latest brew for a taste.

Once they each had a glass and were sitting on stools in the big, vaulted ceiling brewery warehouse with a concrete floor, and the scent of hops and industrial cleaner in the air, Bennett brought out his tablet and cleared his throat. “So, first order or business, the proposal for Bonn Remmen’s land.”

“I think all five of us should speak,” Wyatt said.

Dom disagreed. He was not a fan of public speaking, and even less so when there was so much pressure riding on what he had to say.

A wedding toast was bad enough, but a proposal for land? He absolutely would not be the reason they lost the property because he fumbled, stuttered, and “ummed” his way through his part of the speech.

“The look on your face says you disagree,” Clint said with a half-laugh.

Dom took a sip of his beer. “You know I don’t like to talk in front of large crowds. And with something so important riding on what I would say …” He shook his head. “You guys are much better speakers than I am.”

His brothers exchanged skeptical looks with each other.

“I’m fine with that,” Bennett said. “However, you will still need to be there. We are proposing this as a team—as a business—and you own one-fifth of this business. You’ll also need to field questions regarding any plans for the bar and restaurant.”

Dom nodded. “I can do that.”

“Would you guys like me to write drafts of what I think each of us should say? Or would you prefer to write your own piece that pertains to your portion of the business?” Bennett asked.

“Why don’t you write it so it’s cohesive,” Jagger said. “Has flow and the same speech pattern. I can help with that. Then once you have the rough draft—the bones, so to speak—we can add in the details we want to include.”

Dom, Clint, and Wyatt all nodded.

“I say we have a proposal at least somewhat ready by the end of November,” Bennett said. “That way if the Island Elders decide they want us to present before Christmas, we’re ready.”

More nods.

“Next on the agenda,” Bennett said, sliding his finger across the screen, “we need another bartender. Renée has said she’s fine helping out on the bar, but she prefers serving and doesn’t want to lose her serving position and be forced to only bartend. We need to hire another bartender.”

Dom grumbled.

“I say we do it the way we did it before. It worked well, and we got Chloe. We’ll put out the same job posting and do the joint interview.” Wyatt sipped his beer then turned to Dom. “Unless you have any objections?”

Dom had plenty of objections, but his brothers would likely dismiss all of them.

It took him long enough to trust Chloe, and now he had to add another person to his small circle of people he trusted? Chloe was a unicorn. He highly doubted they’d find anybody as qualified or trustworthy as her.

When he didn’t say anything, Bennett nodded. “All right then. I’ll renew the posting and we’ll see what happens.”

Clint’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he checked it. “Huh?”

“What’s up?” Jagger asked.

“A message from Brooke. Apparently, Chloe got back to the hostel last night and the front desk guy—Joey—let another guest from one of the dorms into her private room to use her shower. She got there and the guy was in her shower. She’s demanding a full refund and has checked out. Now she’s homeless.”

Anger immediately lashed through Dom. “Does Hawke know about this?”

Hawke Taylor was the owner of the biggest campsite on the island. Attached to the campsite was the hostel with dorm rooms and private rooms. The property and campground had been in the Taylor family for generations. Hawke was also one of the volunteer firefighters on the island, and he frequented the pub. He was a good guy, and Dom knew for absolute certainty that he wouldn’t be okay with the shit Joey pulled.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s going to let him know,” Jagger said. “If she doesn’t, we can. That’s fucked up right there. Talk about a violation of privacy.”

“Brooke is asking if we know of anywhere Chloe can stay?” Clint added.

Wyatt snorted. “Dom’s got a spare bedroom in his house.”

“Not fucking happening,” Dom said, way too fast for his own liking.

“Yeah, we’re already not sure how to navigate the fact that you had sex with an employee,” Bennett replied dryly. He narrowed his brows in thought while his fingers flew across the screen of the tablet. “Cabin Four is vacant right now.”

“We can’t let her stay there for free. As much as it sucks, the bullshit at the hostel isn’t our fault. Hawke should be putting her up, if anything,” Dom said.

Bennett nodded. “I agree. But I’m sure we could come to some kind of an arrangement. See what she was paying at the hostel and what her rent budget is. Maybe she’d be interested in helping with the housekeeping of the other cabins. They’re only sporadically rented right now anyway since it’s the offseason. Would offset other costs.”

Everyone but Dom seemed to really like this idea.

But the idea of having Chloe so close, even when she wasn’t working, was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving horse that had just had his first bite in a very long time. Now Dom wasn’t simply starving, he was ravenous .

“Actually,” Clint started, cocking his head, “that’s not a terrible idea. And I say this for the next bartender we hire too; if we do some shuffling, we might be able offer affordable accommodation to the next bartender in one of the cabins too. We could even see if the next bartender and Chloe want to share a cabin since a few of them have two bedrooms.

“But what if the next bartender is a dude?” Dom blurted out, immediately regretting it.

Jagger gave him a curious look. “So?”

Shit .

“I mean … maybe she’s not comfortable sharing her space with a man she doesn’t know,” Dom argued, trying to save face. But he knew there was no point. These were his brothers. Expert button pushers. They knew him almost better than he knew himself. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight though. “Especially considering what just happened at the hostel. She seems like the type of person who really values her privacy.”

“I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves here,” Clint interjected. “First, we need to find another bartender. But offering them accommodation in the job posting would sweeten the deal since its widely known that it’s difficult to find vacancies on the island. And if word gets out about the hostel, people might not want to stay there.”

“I can’t imagine Hawke will keep Joey on once he finds out what he did. And he’ll probably evict the guy who snuck into her room too.” Bennett scratched at his beard. “Hawke’s a good guy.”

They all nodded and sipped their beer.

“All in favor of offering up a cabin to Chloe?” Clint asked.

Everyone but Dom said, “Aye.”

“The ‘aye’s have it,” he said, making eye contact with Dom. “Sorry, brother. But we’re a democracy for a reason.”

“It’s feeling more and more like a dictatorship,” Dom grumbled, finishing his beer.

Wyatt cleared his throat. “I’d like to add something to the agenda if everyone has time?”

They all nodded.

“Even though the wedding itself was an utter disaster, the party and catering that we took care of went over really well. And the kitchen staff and I really enjoyed coming up with a new menu. I think—if we have time to pull it off—we should consider hosting a Christmas party for islanders here at the bar. We could hire a band, have a special menu, dancing, a few holiday themed cocktails, and even have Santa come. We could even do an afternoon party for families, then an evening one for adults. Vica and I have been tossing around the idea that we also think that showcasing the fact that we know how to put on a big event would swing in our favor with the Elders and our proposal. Because the winery already hosts weddings and parties—easily. As does the cidery. The distillery doesn’t have the space for more than just small group tastings. So even though I love those fuckers, I don’t see them as our steepest competition.”

Dom and the other three bobbed their heads in thought.

“Would we sell tickets to this?” Bennett asked.

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t think so. But maybe people would need to RSVP so we have a headcount for food, and to stay to fire code.”

“What about bringing a toy or food for donation?” Jagger suggested. “If we did the party early enough, like by December 15th or 20th. Then we could take the stuff over to the mainland for drop off.”

“I like that,” Dom said. “RSVP, and by donation. Cash donations would be fine too. We’d just have to pick a charity in advance to advertise it. The local women and children’s shelter. And the food bank. Maybe?”

“The main objective is to just bring people together with the underlying, secondary, slightly-more- selfish reason being to showcase our ability to host a large-scale event.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. “How big do we want to make this? Do we want to have prizes? An auction? If we’re footing the bill for this ourselves, we need a budget that won’t put us in the poorhouse.” He glanced at Bennett who smirked. “I am trying to take your finance and budget concerns serious.”

Bennett snorted. “And I appreciate it. It’s about fucking time.”

“I think we keep that in our back pocket for now, but they’re great ideas,” Wyatt said. “We just don’t want to bite off more than we can chew.”

A knock at the door to the brewery startled all of them, and they passed around curious and confused expressions. Clint was the first to stand up and go to the door. “Gladstone and Cooper have keys. Why are they knocking?”

He opened the door and they all pivoted to see who it might be.

A hollow formed in Dom’s gut at the thought of it being Chloe, there to quit because he’d gone and messed it all up.

“Hey, Clint.” A shaggy blond head with bright blue eyes peered around the corner. “All the cousins. Hey.”

“Logan?” Wyatt said. “What are you doing here?”

Clint held the door open wider for their cousin on their mother’s side. Logan, who couldn’t be a day over twenty-five, stepped in. Rain droplets clung to his eyelashes and coated his jacket and big backpacker’s backpack.

They all stood up and embraced the kid they hadn’t seen since their mother’s funeral four years ago.

But something about Logan showing up out of the blue with no warning, no call or text message, didn’t sit right with Dom. And he knew his brothers well enough to know that they were all probably feeling the same way.

“I’m gonna ask again,” Clint said, once they’d all hugged their aunt Shirley’s youngest kid, “what are you doing here?”

Logan laughed, but it was a dismissive laugh that was an immediate red flag. “What? Can’t a cousin pop in on his cousins to say hi?”

“He can,” Bennett said, “but you have our numbers, and none of us have received a text from you.”

“It’s also really early. You had to have caught the first ferry over here,” Jagger added. Then he cocked his head to the side. “Unless you’ve been here a while and are only just now paying us a visit.”

Dom didn’t know much about Logan. He didn’t know much about his aunt Shirley’s family at all. They lived in Boston, and several years ago their mother and aunt had a falling out that never really mended before their mother died. Their mother refused to speak about it, and Aunt Shirley never said a word about it at the funeral either.

Logan’s easy smile faltered. “I … I was at the hostel.”

An icy frisson of dread cascaded down Dom’s spine and into the crack of his ass. Was Logan the motherfucker who used Chloe’s bathroom last night?

A quick glance at each of his brothers said they were all thinking the same thing.

“And?” Wyatt probed gently, but firmly.

“And something weird happened so I bounced. I only got in yesterday, late, and didn’t want to disturb you guys. So I figured I’d come here today.”

“What ‘weird’ thing happened?” Dom asked.

“The front desk guy let some dude from the dorm room I’m staying in, into somebody else’s private room and bathroom. She came back while the guy was still in there and freaked out.”

“The guy in the shower wasn’t you, was it?” Dom asked, hating that he had to. But he needed confirmation.

Logan’s look was pure indignation. “Fuck no.” Now the kid was offended.

Thank fuck. They could breathe a little easier.

“But the whole place was buzzing with frustration about it—particularly the women staying there. Several people checked out—including the chick whose room was used. I didn’t want to stay there after that. Like, what other shit is going down? You know? Are they rummaging through bags and taking pictures of people when they’re in the bathroom? Who the fuck knows.”

Dom nodded. “Okay … what can we do for you, Logan?”

Logan scratched at the back of his neck, then set his enormous backpack down on the floor. “Mom and Dad kicked me out of the house.”

Fuck.

“What’d you do?” Bennett asked.

Logan rolled his eyes and grumbled. “Look, I know it was stupid. But like … college is overrated. Why would I keep going and costing my parents thousands of dollars a year if I hated every minute of it?”

“You dropped out of college?” Clint asked. None of them were buying that that was the only reason Aunt Shirley and Uncle Darren would kick Logan out of the house. “What else?”

Once again, Logan looked offended. But they weren’t going to let him get away with evading their questions. “I also … may or may not have …” he cleared his throat, “knocked up my girlfriend. But she miscarried,” he said quickly.

“You’re an adult. What’s the harm in that?” Wyatt asked.

“She was eighteen. And her dad is a senator.”

Oh shit.

“And then I might have drove, high on ketamine, and wrapped my car around a telephone pole when I found out Leila lost the baby.”

Dom, Wyatt, and Clint all said, “Fuck” at the same time, running their fingers through their hair.

Bennett and Jagger shook theirs heads and murmured, “Jesus Christ almighty.”

“So, I’m here, with my life on my back, begging for a job,” Logan said. “I’ll do whatever. Wash dishes, clean cabins, wax kayaks—do you even wax a kayak?”

Dom simply shook his head.

“We have a no drug policy here,” Clint said, deadpanned. “There are children here. Weed is fine, in moderation, but not around them. But no hard shit.”

Logan nodded. “Of course. Of course.”

Dom, Jagger, Wyatt, and Bennett all stared at their older brother in disbelief.

“What are your skills?” Clint asked. “Besides royally pissing off your parents?”

“I bartended in college,” Logan said. “Mostly nightclubs and stuff, but I made a lot of money. I’m pretty good. It’s where I met Leila. She came in with a fake ID that said she was twenty-two. And she looked it. I didn’t find out she was eighteen until she told me she was pregnant.”

Was Clint actually thinking what Dom suspected he was thinking? That they were to take in Logan? He was a magnet for disaster.

“Does your mother know you’re here?” Jagger asked.

Logan shook his head. “No. They won’t talk to me. Said if I’m not going to go to college, then I’m on my own. They’ve basically disowned me.”

“Jesus,” Dom growled. “That’s rough.”

“What do Shirley and Darren do for work again?” Wyatt asked.

“They’re lawyers,” Logan said, throwing in a big eyeroll for good measure. “And my older brother, Bill, is a doctor. My middle brother, Stuart, is a lawyer; and my sister, Evelyn, is in finance on Wall Street. I’m the screwup. The black sheep.”

Okay, well, now Dom had some sympathy for the kid. He still wasn’t excusing the ketamine, the driving, the accident, or the knocking up of the teenager. But to disown your child because their path was different from the one you wanted them to take was all kinds of fucked up.

“You know that’s why my mom and your mom didn’t speak, right?” Logan said. “Because she thought you guys were stupid to go into the Marines and not go to college. My mom never liked your dad because he was a military man, and the fact that your mom supported you guys going into the Marines was always a sore spot between them. She thought your mom was perpetuating an uneducated generation of jarheads and government zombies.”

Dom and his brothers all went slack-jawed.

Logan nodded, then focused on Jagger. “She was a little gentler on you because you went to college, but she didn’t agree with the fact that you stopped at just a bachelor’s degree.”

“Fucking hell,” Jagger muttered, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Aunt Shirley’s a bitch.”

Logan merely raised his brows. “And my siblings have chugged their Kool-Aid for years and have disowned me too. I’m on my own. Which is why I sought out my cousins to ask for help.” He gave them all a pleading look. “That is, if you’ll have a fuckup like me?”

Clint snagged all their gazes.

Dom’s sympathy for the kid was growing and he could see his brothers were feeling the same.

“No drugs,” Clint said again, turning back to Logan.

Logan nodded.

“He can stay with me,” Jagger said. “I’ve got the most space. No kids.”

“I want to see your bartending skills,” Dom said. “I’m not giving you a job until I know you can do it. Otherwise—”

“You’ll be put in the dish pit,” Wyatt finished.

His brothers nodded.

“You’re on probation, like every other hire,” Bennett added. “And if we find out you lied to us about any of this fucking story—”

“We were all Marines, and know how to hide a body,” Wyatt said,

Bennett gave Wyatt a harsh look. “I was going to say, then you’re out on your ass. Jesus. We’re not committing murder here.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Right. Sorry.”

Logan’s chuckle was as lighthearted as he could make it, but there was a little fear in there too. And definitely some trepidation in his eyes.

Good. Fear wasn’t always a bad thing.

Clint turned back to all of them. “I guess we found our bartender. No need to post the job position anywhere. Does anybody have any more items to add to the agenda?”

They all shook their heads.

He nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

Jagger picked up Logan’s backpack like it weighed nothing. “Come on, kid. Let me show you to the house. I’ll run through the rules on the walk up.” They were the first to leave, followed by Bennett. That left Wyatt, Dom, and Clint.

“You think what he said is the truth?” Wyatt asked.

Dom shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m usually good at telling when people are lying … but after Nadine, I don’t fucking know. My Spidey sense is officially broken. So it’s up to you guys to determine if he is or not.”

“I think he’s telling the truth,” Clint said. “Kid has fucked up royally. Doesn’t mean he’s a write-off. We’ll give him a shot. He is family, after all. And we’ll see what comes of it.” Then he turned to Dom. “You need to address things with Chloe too. Make sure you’re on the same page and she’s not going to come after you for sexual harassment or anything. We can’t afford any more bad publicity for this place. Not after—”

“It wasn’t Vica’s fault,” Wyatt snapped.

“I know that. We all know that,” Clint said. “But, nevertheless, someone died here and that is affecting business, even though Chloe’s bartending skills are helping bring business back. We’re still suffering. And if we want to be able to afford this Christmas party you proposed, then we need to bring in more money.”

Wyatt exhaled. “I know. I know.”

Dom cracked his neck side to side. “I’m gonna go into the bar and start setting up for the day. Have Jagger send Logan my way once he’s all settled in.” Then he took leave of his brothers, his mind swimming, his heart confused, and his gut hollow with guilt.

How was he going to face Chloe again and not want to put his hands all over her?

Fuck. He’s screwed up, and now, the whole business was in jeopardy.

That was the last time he let his dick do the thinking.