Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

“Hey, Wes.” Memphis greets him briefly and then stops at the trunk of my car. “This is my sister, Murphy.”

My eyes stay on him—on Wes—and I watch as his body language changes, the tense way he’d been standing relaxing just slightly.

“Nice to meet you, Murphy,” he says, his voice tight.

“You, too.” Then I turn to where Memphis is tugging my suitcase out of the trunk. “Just the suitcase. I only have a few other things and they can wait until tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “We can get it now. Wes, you mind carrying a box or two?”

I sigh, feeling awkward about having him help when I still haven’t processed the fact he’s here right now.

“So how do you two know each other?” I ask, assuming that Wes and my brother are friends or something.

Memphis pauses, eyeing us both. “Wes works here,” he tells me, hoisting a box out and handing it to Wes, who is suddenly right in my space and still smelling deliciously of dust and sweat and the faint scent of mojito wine cooler.

“Doing what?” I ask, watching as Wes stands silently, looking just as shell-shocked as I feel.

“He’s the chef of the new restaurant.” Memphis tucks a box under his arm. “So he’ll be your boss.”

I blink a few times, all of his words hitting me at once. There’s a restaurant? There’s a chef? Both are news to me. But one thing stands out the most, and my voice grows tight as I glare at my brother.

“He’ll be my what?”

Chapter Two

WES

“It’s bullshit, Memphis!”

I wince, knowing I’m certainly about to involve myself in something that is very clearly a family dispute. Something that doesn’t warrant my opinion.

Still, though, I wait outside the room, hoping to eavesdrop long enough to determine whether there might be a chance for me to swoop in and hopefully alleviate the tension between Memphis and his sister.

Fuck me . . . his sister.

“It’s not bullshit, Murphy, it’s progress. We’ve been talking for years about making changes to the vineyard to bring in more tourists. It’s not my fault you haven’t been around to be part of those conversations.”

I know jack shit about the Hawthorne family drama, but it doesn’t take a genius to know that they seem to have plenty of baggage to unpack.

“I could care less about the changes you’re making,” Murphy spits back, and I can just picture her glaring at her brother, those gorgeous caramel-colored eyes of hers glowing with anger. “I’m part of this family too, but now I’m the only one with a boss? What the hell is that about? You said I’d be in charge of myself.”

“Yeah, well … things change. Circumstances change. So if you want to move home and work here, you’ll report to Chef Hart on Monday morning.”

“If I want to move home?” Murphy shrieks.

I glance through the crack in the door. On the other side, she’s standing across the room from where her brother is probably sitting at his desk. Murphy’s hands are in little fists at her sides, and even from here I can see her jaw is tight. Less than an hour ago, I was kissing her sweet mouth and arguing with myself about asking her for her phone number as we sat on the tailgate of the truck. I was not expecting to see this other very real side of her.

“I misspoke,” Memphis corrects himself, his tone losing some of the bite. “Whether or not you can move home is up to Dad. But if you want to get paid and have a job, the job that’s available is waitressing. And Chef Hart is in charge of the new restaurant.”

There’s a long silence before I hear Murphy’s voice slice through the quiet.

“You know, it only took me fifteen minutes of being home to remember all the reasons I left.”

Without warning, the door to the office flies open and Murphy comes storming out, halting as she notices my presence. But just as quickly as she comes to a stop, she’s going again, leaving me in her wake as she heads down a long hallway and around a corner.

Memphis told me his sister was a handful when he mentioned she’d be working for me, but I hadn’t expected … this. For her to be the gorgeous woman I thought I was helping out at the gas station. For her to be all kinds of fire and heat.

Why couldn’t she have just been some girl? Any girl, really. Anyone other than Memphis’s sister.