CHAPTER ELEVEN

ATLAS

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I never lose. I said those words to Molly, and I meant them.

Montgomery's don't lose.

Then again, neither do the Dufort's. It's going to be one hell of a pétanque game. Has there ever been two more competitive groups of people?

We are about to find out.

You better not let us lose this game. I don't like losing.

I'm even more determined to win now so it could get messy.

Speaking of winning, I've been trying to get ahold of Harlow to see if she has heard anything about the CFD Awards from Donald.

I'm standing on the side of the field with my phone to my ear as it's ringing. She's not answering and I'm feeling nervous. Either she's ghosting me because its bad news or she's having fun.

Or was abducted by kidnappers and...now I'm making things up. She's probably just out of service.

I need to relax.

I end the call and start typing a message.

Normally it's me dodging Harlow's messages so she's probably enjoying this.

When I pocket my phone and turn back to the group Molly is watching me with a hefty amount of distrust.

Her eyes dart away.

God I wish I could read her mind.

I don't want anyone knowing what I am doing. Knox and Levi may have picked up the thread of what I was doing at dinner last week but I'm not making it publicly known that I'm stressing about this award.

My brothers and I have always supported one another, and they'd kick my ass if they knew what I was really thinking. They'd tell me that Dad respects my work, and that I wouldn't be in WME if he didn't.

I know this.

He wouldn't give the job to me out of pity or obligation. Especially not promote me to the senior position.

Ward doesn't work like that.

Knox not being handed the CEO position recently was proof if I ever needed it.

Which I haven't.

I worked my way up from an intern position and earned my stripes, so to speak, and my work is good.

More than good.

It's outstanding.

Fuck, I mean Dad wouldn't have let me design this season's line for Verity & Co. if it wasn't. Nor would Jin.

I just can't help feeling that I'm not the son he hoped for. Like I'm that kid who wanted to play guitar instead of being a lawyer.

Who joined a rock band and did pretty well.

There's not really much more I can do with my career except take on the head design role.

Jin is immortal, I'm sure of it.

So, this award is important. It recognizes me as an expert by industry experts, not my family.

I need to show my father I can win this.

I need the industry to reflect back to me the respect they have for my designs.

Not just be one of the Montgomery boys. I'm sick of being the average one. Which, when Levi gets drafted into the NFL, I will.

So I need this award.

I need to be the fucking best. I need that stupid fucking statue sitting in my stupid fucking office just so I don't feel average.

While standing among giants.

And I'm not waiting ten years to get it.

"Okay," the woman from the winery says to our group, using her hands to encourage us to gather around her. "Who's played pétanque before?"

Everyone shakes their head.

She looks around the group studying us.

"First off. It's a low-key game." She picks up one of the silver round balls and lets it hang at her side.

Then swings it like her arm is a pendulum.

"We don't throw it," she warns, and Hunter snorts.

She glares at him.

Beside me Blake chuckles silently.

"We toss it," she explains.

"That's what she said," Levi says, and I let out a snort.

Molly slaps my abs, and I grab her wrist, then drop it when Knox side-eyes me.

But for those seconds feeling the heat of her soft skin was almost enough.

Almost.

I'm not sure I'll ever have enough of her.

"How do we win?" Daniel asks. "Points? Knocking the other balls out of the way? What?"

"Babe. Chill," Harper says.

"We are just playing for fun," Emma, Logan's wife, says.

In response all the men start shuffling their feet and muttering yeah no, we are at war.

I grin.

This is going to be epic.

––––––––

AN HOUR LATER, we've had our third warning.

We will be kicked out of the winery if we do not keep the noise down, and we were told that pétanque is not cricket, basketball, or softball.

"Gentle is your friend," the manager says.

"Fuck offff," Fletcher mutters as he walks away and tosses back a gulp of his Sauvignon Blanc. "This is a family war."

Then he takes an unnecessary run up and... bang!

The balls goes flying.

"Ten points!" he cries with his arms over his head, and Molly giggles.

God I love that sound.

"This is useless." Knox growls stalking across the space. "Everyone is breaking the fucking rules."

Olivia, Harper, and Lily bend over giggling while Molly stands beside me moving from one foot to the other.

The little firecracker wants to win as much as the boys.

It's so damn hot.

Everyone was broken into the following teams:

Montgomery's: Knox, Payton, me, Molly, Levi, and Bella.

Blake was pissed because Bella now has his surname, but she insisted it would balance the numbers.

Dufort's: Daniel, Fletcher, Hunter, Emma, Logan, Aidan, and Amelia.

Jack had to take a call—he's a US Senator and it happens during family occasions more than his wife, Amelia, would like, I'm sure of it.

Olivia, Harper, and Lily are calling themselves the cheerleaders. When I pointed out that pétanque doesn't have cheerleaders, it just sent them into a round of giggles.

Basically that's all they've done for the past hour or so—taunt us and laugh.

Visitors to the winery have been standing around watching us. I know we're going to end up on someone's social media.

"We're not starting again," Molly calls out. "If they break the rules they get penalized ten points."

"No way!" Aidan replies.

"Yup. That's fair." I nod. "Otherwise, we have to keep starting again. We'll be here all weekend."

"I need another glass of wine." Emma groans, throwing her head back.

"Step aside amateurs, the pro sportsman is here," Levi says, nudging Fletcher aside.

"Not pro yet, buddy," Hunter calls out as I snort.

Levi, who has tugged off his sweater, bends his arm to show off his bicep.

Daniel rolls his eyes but laughs.

When I spot Molly looking I take a step in front of her to block her view. Her eyes lift playfully to mine.

"Eyes on the prize baby," I say quietly.

"You think you're the prize?" she asks, sipping her aged chardonnay.

Goddamn. Are we flirting?

I want to step closer. I want to take her face and lick those wet red lips of hers. I want to spin her around and find out if her ass has ever been filled with cock and show her what a real damn prize looks like.

But she knows.

"Actually, I think your ass is the prize," I whisper roughly. "And tonight I'm going to claim you."

She takes another sip, but I see the way she shakes with excitement as her eyes dilute.

"If you can catch me."

Jesus.

My cock twitches in my pants and now I can't turn around.

"Baseball."

"What?" she frowns.

"Football." I clench my eyes shut and imagine my brother running out onto the field.

It does the job and my cock calms down.

I really can't flirt with Molly when others are around. There are tells.

As in, my erection.

Levi takes his shot and nails it. Logan goes wide. Then Knox and Bella get maximum points.

Amelia's aim goes wide and the Dufort's groan.

"I'm sorry!" she cries, and Harper runs over to her with a wine.

Which apparently fixes everything.

"Thanks babe." Amelia gulps down a sip, nodding as if the world is now okay.

I glance at the scoreboard. Twelve points each. One more needed to take home the trophy.

"Winning shot, Atlas. No pressure," Knox says, shooting me his don't fuck this up brotherly support look.

I give him my fuck you, I've got this glare back.

"You got this big guy." Molly pats my pec, and I lift a brow, wondering just how many glasses of wine she's had.

She's going to regret that when she sobers up.

"Go Atlas, go Atlas." Payton claps, jumping on the spot.

Then again, everyone is pretty roasted.

"Jesus, the pressure." I cry, picking up one of the balls. I jog on the spot making a huge deal, roll my shoulders, and ignore Levi's snort.

I lick my finger and hold it up into the wind.

"For the love of god." Daniel and Logan moan simultaneously making everyone laugh.

I turn and wink at Molly, then release the ball.

"No, no, nooo." Aidan holds his hands out.

"Yessss," Bella and Payton sing as Molly steps up beside me and grips my arm in anticipation.

It knocks Daniel's ball and moves right into prime position beside the white master ball.

"Woohooo!" Levi and Knox scream as if I just won the Super Bowl for us.

Molly leaps into my arms and smacks a kiss on my lips as I catch her.

Then we go still, staring at one another.

Shit.

We are fucking useless at this.

I let her down and glance around as everyone continues celebrating. No one cared in the slightest. They're too busy arguing.

The Dufort's claim we cheated, and I hear Fletcher demand some video footage.

"Fucking hell." Knox laughs and punches him in the arm.

A bottle of champagne pops and I glance down at Molly.

"That didn't happen," Molly says, wiping her mouth.

"Nope," I say, and we shake hands.

As if that negates what just happened.

Publicly.

But we smile at one another and her bashful blush is back. I want to see her ass cheeks blush next.

When we get back to the house midafternoon, everyone heads off in their own direction for a nap. The yard has been set up with pop-up tents for what Payton has called a festival dinner.

I'm intrigued.

And a little drunk.

And eager to get ahold of Harlow.

I wander across to the beach and start making calls.