“Yes, sir.”

He moves away, reaching for the bottle and a glass, and I ease onto the stool and think about the last time I was here. Jesus, fuck. So much has happened since then.

The night I met Holly, I was sitting on one of the low couches in the corner, avoiding all human interaction, and most certainly avoiding a family dinner that would turn into my uncle berating me for every single goddamn thing I’ve ever done in my life.

Christmas Eve a year ago, after my sister begged, I agreed to go to my aunt and uncle’s and pretend to be a family. Over perfectly cooked duck and way more scotch than he should be allowed to imbibe, my uncle unleashed a tirade about my ineptitude at business before shifting to highlight the failures in my personal life.

The final straw was his muttered comment about the indignity of having to share a last name with me. My aunt blanched, but rather than wade into the fray, she only reached for another glass of wine. Even when I was a kid, she never said a word against my uncle.

I stood, apologized to my sister for being unable to keep up the pretense of family, and walked out.

This past Christmas, I refused to attempt the mockery of a family holiday again. Holly was the cure to my boredom, and to the thoughts of my less-than-ideal family situation.

When the bartender slides my drink across the smooth wood, I wrap my fingers around the glass and move away from the bar. As I settle back into my corner, I smile as the memory of Holly strutting into the bar floods my mind.

Damn. She looked just as gorgeous as she looked out of place. Short skirt, jacket too thin to possibly keep her warm, and cowboy boots. She tossed her wild mane over her shoulder, which I now know is from her crazy stage hair, and scanned the bar like she owned it. Even as her clothes screamed I don’t belong, her attitude yelled But I don’t care. It was that attempt at confidence and bravado that captured me first.

Well, that’s a lie. It was her sexy-as-hell hair, lush tits, and perfectly rounded ass—and then it was her forged confidence with the underlying hint of vulnerability.

Everything about her, even the way she stood, threw out the vibe that she was trying to be strong but needed an even stronger hand to guide her. When I saw another man move in to take a shot, I acted without thinking—something I rarely, if ever, did before her.

I stalked over and claimed her as mine.

I can still remember, almost verbatim, what she said when she finally threw down her proposition after all the innuendos and flirting.

“I came here to find a hot guy who looked like he could handle himself, and see where the night takes us.”

I mean, really, what does a man say to that except grab her by the hand and drag her back up to her hotel room? Because that’s exactly what I did.

The memory slips away when a shadow falls onto the purplish-blue color of the light on the table in front of me. I look up to find Greer.

“Don’t they keep you chained to your desk until midnight every night?” I ask with a smirk.

My sister’s smile doesn’t stretch as far across her face as it used to. She looks at her watch. “I know, right? Hell, Crey, I haven’t gotten out this early in months. And it’s all because I can’t work on the project you’ve got everyone else locked down on. Sometimes conflicts of interest are a wonderful thing.”

I check my watch and hate the fact that my little sister thinks that getting out of work at eight thirty is early.

“You don’t need that job, Gree.” The nickname is one left over from the little pieces of her childhood I got to witness during breaks from boarding school.

She rolls her eyes, drops her briefcase on the floor, and plops into the seat across from me. “I’m not living off your money. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to be at the sweatshop forever. A few years will be enough to get me a job in-house, and then I’ll be living the dream.”

I think of the legal department at Karas International and how hard they’re always working. “You realize the grass isn’t always greener, right?”

“Don’t burst my bubble just yet. I spent three years busting my ass for this degree; I’m going to use it.”

I open my mouth to say something else, but instead of wasting my breath, I take another sip of scotch.

A server comes by, and Greer orders a gin and tonic.

“When did you switch to hard liquor?” I ask, the big brother in me coming out. “You used to drink wine, not gin.”

The eye rolling commences again. “Calm down, Crey. I’m splurging on the good stuff because you’re buying. Besides, Tristan is trying to get me to drink more ‘sophisticated’ drinks than just wine.”

I frown at the mention of her boyfriend. “Tristan’s a dick, Greer.”

She glares at me. “He’s not a dick. He’s a good guy, really.” By her tone, I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince me or herself.

“Really? Then why aren’t you with Tristan right now rather than your big brother?”

Her gaze drops and the glare fades away. “Because he doesn’t like me coming over late. Says it messes with his sleep schedule. But we’re going away together next weekend. We need some time alone to reconnect.”

If Greer were any woman but my sister, I’d tell her that any man deserving of the title shouldn’t care what time his woman is crawling into his bed. He should be happy as fuck she’s there to mess with his sleep schedule. But I’m not going anywhere near the topic of sex with my sister. It’s not happening. Not fucking ever.

Greer thankfully changes the subject. “So, when am I going to get to meet your wife?”

I think about the phone call that wasn’t really even a phone call that Holly and I had earlier. “Soon. You should come to one of her shows. She’s fucking amazing, Gree. You’ll be absolutely stunned.”

“Um, news flash, Crey. I’ve seen her perform on TV; I know what she sounds like. And you’re right—she is fucking amazing.”

“When did you see her on TV?”

“I watched the back episodes of Country Dreams as soon as your news hit the papers. I wanted to see this girl who’s now my sister. You did good. She’s crazy talented. They polished her up a lot from that first audition, but her voice has carried through. The judges were stunned.”

I pull out my phone to call Cannon.

“What are you doing?” Greer asks.