Reserved (10 page)

“Didn’t we just cover that when I walked in?”

Kenna could see Sage pulling herself together.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” Sage asked, leaning one hand on the bar.

“Oh, wow. Now, if anyone practices in the mirror, little sister, it’s your friend here.”

“What are you talking about? I’m a bartender. That’s my line. You said you wanted one of my creations, and I’m simply asking you what you want. I need more than just make me something.”

“Why? I’m not the drink master, you are.”

“Mistress, it would be drink mistress, and actually, I prefer the gender neutral, mixologist.”

Garrett laughed, and Kenna enjoyed the show. Sage was handling her brother like a pro.

“Got it. Okay, well, what do you recommend?”

“Let’s do this. Give me a base—gin, whiskey, tequila?”

“I’ve been in here enough. You tell me.”

“Oh, come on, this is too easy.” Sage smiled, and it was like she and Garrett were the only two people in the bar. She was focused and he was intrigued. Kenna had rarely seen her brother intrigued by anything that wasn’t growing or mechanical. It was a treat.

“I’ve gotta go with your last name, Rye. Yeah, we’ll start with rye whiskey, that’s your base,” Sage said without hesitation.

Garrett had no idea who he was dealing with. Sage Jeffries was an expert on all things booze and Garrett.

“Okay, now what?” he asked.

“Well, I usually ask for a flavor or an essence someone is looking for. I once had a guy tell me he was from Seattle and wanted me to describe Seattle in drink form.”

Garrett smiled. “What did you make him?”

“It was my own creation, but when I was done, it looked like a cloudy sky.”

“Huh, so you want me to give you a flavor? I’m kind of a—”

“Classic, you’re a classic.”

“I am?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, so I’m a classic and the base of my drink is rye.”

“Right. Got it.”

Garrett looked over at Kenna as Sage grabbed a crystal mixing glass, added rye, and what Kenna thought looked like vermouth. She dropped in a couple of ice cubes and stirred with a rhythm all her own. Eyes on her creation, Sage was in her groove and Kenna recognized a strength that was pretty damn sexy. Her brother seemed to notice it too. Sage took her long metal straw, tasted it, threw the straw in the sink, and strained the chilled liquid into a martini glass. Deftly fishing a cherry out of a jar, she dropped it into the glass and added a few drops of something from what appeared to be a tiny soy sauce bottle. Then, she twisted a piece of orange rind over the drink, balancing the peel on the glass. She glanced up at Garrett, who was glued to her movements, and slowly pushed the drink toward him. Kenna thought maybe she needed to have her hormones checked because she was pretty sure she’d just watched her best friend seduce her brother without even touching him.

“Sip, it’s not a gulp drink.”

“What is it?”

“A Manhattan.”

“Ah, I’ve been there once. Here’s hoping your drink is better than my trip.” Garrett sipped and his eyes warmed. He looked at Kenna again as if to say, “get a load of her, will ya?”

“It’s good, really good.” He smiled, his voice deep and rich.

Sage instantly went from hot sexy bartender to girl in high school who trips, dropping her books on the way to the library. Her hand slipped off the mixing glass and it almost fell to the floor. Garrett reached over and steadied the glass, his hand over hers, and Sage turned bright red.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” She pulled her hand away and put the glass in the sink. “I’m good. Fine. I’m glad you liked it. I need to . . . I’ve got an order to get in the back.” Her pleading eyes quickly darted to Kenna and she disappeared behind the door. Kenna was sure her friend was on the other side of the back kitchen door desperately trying to catch her breath. The woman had it bad. Kenna’s clueless brother finished his drink, popped the cherry into his mouth, and smiled. When he left a twenty on the bar, leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, and turned to leave, Kenna thought about saying something, giving him a hint, but Sage would kill her, so she kissed her brother back and let him go.

Sage returned to the bar, delivering two grinder sandwiches to the balding man and his female companion who’d placed her gorgeous gray coat on the stool next to them. Sage handed them two silverware rolls and refilled their drinks; then she took the twenty Garrett had left on the bar and removed his glass.

“Was I a complete loser?”

“Not at all. You were pretty badass there for a while, and then he smiled at you and you clearly didn’t notice his bottom two teeth are stupid crooked because you about melted into a puddle.”

Sage shook her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like I haven’t been around my share of intimidating guys. He’s just different. Not intimidating actually, but this force that messes with me. I swear I lose my balance, physically, when he’s around.”

“It’s because you don’t really know him. See, same with me when it comes to Travis. I’m weird because of what he represents in the dream, but I don’t really know him. If you knew Garrett, not the dream you’ve conjured up in your mind, you’d be out of love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him.”

“Right. What is it Oprah says? You’re in love with the ‘idea of him.’”

Travis lived at The Gas Company Loft on Flower Street in downtown Los Angeles. It was next to the Staples Center, which meant he was surrounded by a dozen cookie-cutter sports bars that served crap food, most of it in a pocket or covered in cheese. Somehow, he’d managed to find a great Ethiopian place, and there was always the Grand Central Market.

His apartment was on the ninth floor and his furniture was from Crate and Barrel, all of it. He remembered the day he bought it, all in one day. He’d arrived in the morning, bought everything he thought he would need, and made Amber the saleslady’s day. She even gave him her number. They slept together and two weeks later, she texted him her thanks and asked if he wanted an invite to her wedding. Women could be so strange. Not that he wanted to marry her. He hadn’t even thought of it actually, but it seemed lately, most women weren’t interested in marrying him, either. Well, Trixie would probably marry him, but the few times they’d slept together, he awoke to her crying or staring at him, playing with his hair. Yeah, Trixie had to go and fast. But there were women in his life he’d thought about spending more time with, and they didn’t want him. Maybe it was a vibe he gave off or he had some sign on his back that read “temporary.” Not that he was complaining, but sometimes he wondered where this was all going. He wasn’t a kid anymore and if he was honest with himself, he did think about having a family. He just wasn’t sure how to do that without becoming the family he came from. Yeah, he’d stay single forever before he’d end up in some minivan, bullying his kids into cracking helmets every Saturday until it was the only way they knew how to define themselves.

Travis didn’t allow much time for thinking and didn’t spend much time at home. In fact, his place wasn’t really a home; it was more like a display. Sure, he’d hung a few pictures of his family and friends around his place, but he’d recently started thinking he should buy a home and set up something permanent for a change. He had still been in Seattle working with Benji when Logan called him and said he was opening his own place and wanted to do it with him. That’s how he’d said it, not that he “wanted to give him a job” or “come work for me.” He’d said, “I’m opening a place and I can’t do it without you. Get down here and let’s do this together.” There was no way he could resist. Logan had become his best friend, and his ideas for the not-yet-named Yard were inspired.

Travis had pissed Benji off when he gave notice, and a little over three weeks after Logan’s call, he moved into the apartment where he now stood drinking two shots of espresso. The weekend he arrived in Los Angeles, he had dinner at the Rye farm. He’d previously met Garrett and Logan’s dad when they came up to visit him in Seattle, but until that night, he’d only heard of Makenna. He’d been with Logan the night she called about Adam and had taken him to the airport so he could wait on standby and get the last flight out that night. He didn’t know her back then, but watching his friend try to get to his sister’s side broke his heart.

The night he met Makenna, Paige had just celebrated her second birthday and her husband had been gone for almost as long. Travis thought she was beautiful even back then. Long dark hair, freckles, and sun-kissed skin, Makenna Rye looked like a farm girl. Her cheeks were always pink because she was usually outside or coming in from outside, and the way she carried herself was refreshing. She almost didn’t seem aware of her body. He was pretty sure she knew she was a woman, but she must not have received the gender memo that her body was a weapon. She was a bit of a tomboy, which was expected because her mother had run out on the family when she was only five and she was surrounded by men. Yet, Travis thought that brought out her moments of softness even more. He had been drawn to that, intrigued by the way the light played on her face, the way she laughed in spite of her pain, and how she clearly loved her family.

When he saw her with her daughter, it was apparent she was strength and loyalty and completely off-limits. Not because she was his best friend’s sister, but because she was way out of his league. The weeks following meeting Makenna Rye, Travis had decided she was sort of like a painting in a museum. He could appreciate her, look at her all he wanted, but if he tried to touch her, make her his, alarms would sound and he would break his own heart all over again. She was a bring-a-man-to-his-knees kind of woman, which was fine because she was also in this sort of grief limbo. He didn’t need to watch other men date her because she didn’t date. He knew someday things would change, but for the time being, Travis loved their friendly banter and teasing.

He walked to his kitchen, made another espresso, and when his phone vibrated, he almost let it go to voicemail. He’d ignored the last group text when UCS beat Cal, however, so he needed to answer this. They’d be on top of him eventually. After all, it was football season, so he might as well get it over with. Travis downed his espresso and tapped his phone.

“Morning, Dad.”

“Trav, it’s your dad.”

Travis rolled his eyes because he’d just said hello. Two sentences in and already his father might as well be talking to himself.

“Hey, Dad.”

“We’ll be there on Wednesday. You coming to the game?”

“No.” Travis had learned a long time ago that short answers worked best with his father. If they kept things simple, then they avoided arguments and Travis didn’t end up saying things that he wouldn’t be able to take back.

There was silence on the other line. He waited.

“You working?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t get the day off?”

“No.”

“All right, well, your brother and Avery are coming too, so that’s good. I’m sure we’ll see ya. Call your mother. She’s . . . she misses you.”

“Will do. I’ll see you guys next week.”

“Sounds good.”

Travis hung up and collapsed into the chair. Hell, Brick was easier than his father. There was so much unspoken, controlled tension that sometimes he wondered why they even bothered.

Chapter Nine

K
enna had just finished reading the fifteen-page profile of some guy who sent her a winky face on the dating website. She knew every little stupid detail about him and really nothing at all. Just as she was going back to look at his pictures, Travis came around the corner. She quickly closed her laptop, but it was too late. He saw her panic and true to form, he pounced.

“Watching porn again at work, are we?”

“Why are you always . . . here?”

“Hey, someone has to work. Whatcha got there, Ken?”

“None of your damn business.”

“You know normally, I wouldn’t care about your spreadsheets, but that was a really quick laptop close. Someone’s hiding something again.”

“Do you know how annoying you are?”

Travis nodded and took the seat next to her. He smelled good.
What? What the hell do you mean he smells good? Stop it!

“Come on. We’ve known each other forever now. I’ve been in
the
dream. You can tell me things.”

“Um, three years is hardly forever and no, I can’t tell you things. And we don’t need to talk about the dream. Besides, it’s not a big deal. You just startled me.”

“Uh huh. I made Paige hand-cut fries yesterday.” He looked at her with his puppy eyes and Kenna shook her head.

“Fine. I’ll try this. I’ll tell you and if you so much as smirk, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”

Travis winced. “Seems a tad harsh, but okay.”

“I’m serious. I am way out of my comfort zone here already, but it might be nice to have a male perspective.”

He was still waiting like a kid at an ice cream truck. Kenna let out a slow breath.

“I’m thinking about, well, Sage and I are going to start dating.”

“Huh. Well, you two do have a lot in common and actually would make a lovely couple, but is she responsible enough to be a co-parent? She’s a bartender, after all.”