Bitter Truth (Hawthorne Vines #1)

“How could you be willing to jeopardize everything?”

I shake my head.

“I’m not jeopardizing anything,” I reply.

Even though I mean it, there’s something hollow about my words.

Because they imply that I don’t see any problems with my relationship with Wes, and that’s not true.

Wes knows as well as I do that something happening between us could create plenty of complications. It was a smarter choice to avoid each other and try to keep things platonic.

But that time has come and gone.

Now, we’re in too deep. We’ve fallen too far.

Or at least, I have.

“Memphis, I’m in love with him.”

My brother scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re not in love, you’re in lust. It’s fun sneaking around and breaking the rules. That’s all this is.”

“It’s not.”

Crossing his arms, Memphis just looks at me, then shakes his head again. “Go change for work. We can discuss this later.”

Then he turns and heads in the direction he just sent Wes.

Something behind my eyes pinches tight, and I can feel tears building up inside me, so I take the path away from the restaurant and through the vineyard back to the house.

I change quickly, then get back to the restaurant about fifteen minutes before we open for lunch. Memphis is nowhere to be seen, and even though it’s easier to not think about him when he’s not around, the look on his face is hard to get out of my head.

Thankfully, the opening night numbers translate into a large crowd for lunch as well, and I’m able to somewhat distract myself from thinking about my brother or the things he said for most of the afternoon.

Eventually, though, the rush dies down. I send the other server home, and then it’s just me and my thoughts.

And the longer I think, the angrier I get.

So after I say goodbye to the last lunch table, I hastily begin clearing away their dishes, desperate to get out of here, track down my brother, and give him a piece of my mind.

“Hey.”

The sound of Wes’s voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I look up from where I’m stacking empty plates on my serving tray.

Just the sight of him lifts some of the weight off my shoulders.

“How did the service go out here?”

I put the last of the dishes on my tray and hoist it onto my shoulder. “Good. Everyone loved the pesto today.”

Wes bobs his head, but his smile is pinched, so I set the tray back on the table and walk the few feet to where he’s standing.

“Hey, everything’s going to be okay,” I tell him, taking his hand in mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to finish up and then go talk to Memphis. He doesn’t get to have a say in who either of us …”

I trail off, realizing Wes and I haven’t officially established anything yet.

We aren’t dating. He’s not my boyfriend, I don’t think. And we aren’t just hooking up.

“If we want to be together, he’ll have to get over it,” I finally say, happy with how I’ve phrased it.