ALL THE WRIGHT MOVES

2. Nora

2

NORA

“You know, there are things called cell phones,” I said with an arched eyebrow as I stuffed everything into my oversize work bag. “You could have called or texted to let us know you were coming home.”

“I could have, but then I wouldn’t have gotten to see your face when I showed up in your office.” He slumped back in the chair across from my desk, kicking his feet up.

I brushed them off my desk. “LA has left you uncivilized.”

He laughed. “That would be your brother.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Campbell always was uncivilized, wasn’t he? I never should have let you go off with him for six months. You’re going to spend one night in the house and wreck all my progress.”

“Progress?” he asked, jumping to his feet as I slung my bag on my shoulder, staggering slightly under the weight.

“I might or might not have been making some improvements.”

“Improvements?” He looked stricken. “What did you do?”

“Guess you’ll have to see when we get home, won’t you?” I winked at him.

It had been silly to spend any time or energy on the house I was staying at, but it was impossible for me to live somewhere and not turn it into my own. It had been a nightmare to move out of the dorms because I had completely transformed my and Tamara’s tiny suite into a girlie floral haven. I hadn’t gone that far with West’s place, but I’d had it to myself for six months. How could I resist a few dozen trips to HomeGoods?

“Is everything pink?”

“Maybe. What, are you not man enough for pink?”

“No, no, pink is definitely my color,” he said with a grin in my direction.

“Good. It’d better be.”

We headed out of my office and into the cellars of Wright Vineyard. It was a thriving operation. Last year, we’d won an award for Best in Class wine at an event in Austin. Hollin was taking our wine down to the show again this year in hopes of repeating the accomplishment. Plus, the weddings had really taken off after last year.

We’d had two huge weddings, including Morgan Wright—the CEO of Wright Construction, a Fortune 500 company—and her husband, Patrick’s, event. That had been the highlight of the season. After that, wedding requests had skyrocketed. We had something at the vineyard nearly every Saturday. Hollin and I had even talked about bringing on another event planner since we were getting so much interest. At this point, I could handle it, but it was exciting to see that the vineyard had grown this much.

We’d made it to the cellars doors when they burst open, and my oldest brother, Hollin, strode toward us. “Nora, I just saw Tamara.”

I kept my stride easy and light. “I know. I already spoke with her.”

“I banned her from the premises. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking.”

“She and August got engaged.”

Hollin gaped at me. “What the actual f**k?” He clenched his hands into fists. “I’ll kill him.”

“Not worth it,” I assured him. “You got your punch in.”

“You dated for three years, and he proposed to her in less than a year?”

I glared at my brother. “Yeah, I also was able to do the math.”

“Not helping,” Weston muttered.

That was when Hollin noticed him standing there. His jaw dropped. “West! Hey, I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Yeah, I came in with Campbell today.”

“That asshole didn’t even tell me,” Hollin growled.

“Me neither,” I told him.

“Well, we finished our part on the album,” Weston said. “There’s some production stuff that still has to happen on the back end, but it’s a wrap for us unless we need to go back for any rerecords.”

“f**k yes!” Hollin cried.

“Congratulations!” I said.

Weston grinned down at me. I knew how proud he was of all of this. Campbell was the lead singer of the band Cosmere that had skyrocketed into fandom a few years back. All that time spent bartending in LA had paid off, and now, he performed to sold-out stadiums all over the world. When his keyboardist had quit before their third album, he’d enlisted West’s help. Weston wasn’t an official part of the band, but he’d filled in on the whole album. He and Campbell had grown close, working together, and had been all but inseparable ever since.

“Yeah,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “It’s pretty cool.”

“So, how long are you here?” Hollin asked the question I most wanted the answer to.

“Not sure. It’s Campbell’s birthday this weekend, and he wanted to spend it with Blaire. So, we took the first flight out of LA. We don’t have anything to do for a while though. I don’t think anyone is rushing to head back.”

“Good. Y’all need the downtime,” Hollin said.

“We should throw a surprise party,” I rushed out.

Hollin snapped his fingers at me. “He’ll hate that. Let’s do it.”

Weston snorted. “He will hate that. For someone in the spotlight, he sure hates it.”

“Which will make it the best,” I said with a laugh. “Something only siblings can get away with. I’ll get together with Blaire to make sure he doesn’t find out.”

“Still bitter that you didn’t get to plan their wedding, huh?” Hollin asked.

I scowled at him. “It wasn’t cool.”

“You were involved,” Weston said.

“I know. I know. But eloping in Vegas is different than letting me create a huge, insane wedding and giving them exactly what they wanted. And before you say anything, I know that eloping was exactly what they wanted. But I can still be sad.”

“Poor thing,” Hollin said with a shake of his head. “I’ll help with the surprise party. We can have it here.”

“I’ll help cover for you,” Weston agreed.

“Done!” I did a little twirl in my high heels. “I love surprise parties.”

“I don’t know how you do that in those death traps,” Hollin said.

I rolled my eyes at him. “Lots of practice.” I hugged my brother. “We’re going to head home early after dealing with Tamara.”

“Sure thing. If you see Campbell, tell him he’s an asshole,” he said, shaking West’s hand.

“Will do.”

We headed out to the parking lot, where my CR-V sat next to Hollin’s truck. I scanned the lot. “What did you drive?”

“Took an Uber from the airport. I left my car at the house.”

“Right, right. Taking up that extra spot in the garage.”

“What were you going to do with that extra spot?” He laughed and snagged the keys from my hand.

“Hey! I’m driving.” I jumped for the keys, but he held them up over my head, so I couldn’t get to them.

“No way, bite-sized,” he joked.

I scoffed, my ears going hot at the nickname. He’d used it when we first moved in together. I was about five feet flat and couldn’t reach anything on the top shelves. He’d had to move everything I wanted to a lower shelf so that I could get to it. That was half the reason for the high heels all the time. Plus, they were me at this point.

“I’m fun-sized. Not bite-sized. Like a Snickers—soft on the outside, crunchy on the inside.”

He snorted. “All right, Snickers. Let’s go.”

I rolled my eyes. Damn it! That wasn’t a better nickname.

“Why must you drive?”

“I haven’t had a car in six months, and LA traffic is s**t. It’s the little things.”

I sighed. “Fine. I don’t normally let anyone drive my SUV. You’re lucky.”

He dropped into the driver’s side and then coughed. “Fuck.” He shifted the seat all the way back to accommodate his long legs. He adjusted the mirrors and flicked the fuzzy pink dice in the rearview mirror. “Do you need luck because your feet can’t touch the pedals?”

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “Course not. The luck is for everyone else on the road to survive my demon speeds.”

Weston cracked up and shifted us into gear. “Yeah, I really missed you.”

I flushed again as he peeled out of the parking lot. We listened to the local pop station on the way home, jamming out to Taylor Swift’s latest. West spoke of the merits of her piano playing, and I sang the lyrics at the top of my lungs to drown out the shop talk.

He parked my SUV next to his Subaru, and I hightailed it to the garage door.

“Okay, before you judge, remember that I didn’t know you were coming home. I can change any of it.”

He stood in front of me, brushing his hand against my side as he reached for the doorknob. “You’re scaring me. What the hell did you do?”

I held my arms out to try to stop him from going inside. “Not yet. Let me explain.”

But there was no way I could stop him from getting into his own house. He dropped his body down, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His strong arm wrapped across the backs of my thighs. My bare thighs because I’d opted for a white skirt for work today. Oh God.

I screamed in shock as he lifted me and carried me over the threshold.

“West!”

“Stop wiggling, or I’ll drop you.”

“Put me down!”

He laughed as he stopped in the middle of the living room, freezing at the redecoration that I’d done to the space. “Snickers, what did you do?”

But he didn’t sound upset as he gently set me back down onto my platforms. I brushed down my skirt, trying to cover the heat on my face and the heat…everywhere else, too.

“Well…” I whispered.

When Weston had left six months ago, the house had looked like a bachelor pad with an old couch, a coffee table dented from too many nights of quarters, a deformed beanbag, and an Xbox hooked up to a giant television. Since then, I’d reupholstered the entire couch with some light-gray fabric. It had taken three weekends to get the measurements right. I’d refinished the coffee table with wax and made the beanbag into a poof.

I’d begged a favor from an old Best Buy acquaintance to mount the television and hide all the cords in the wall. I’d purchased secondhand curtains for the bay window and refitted them to the space. Then, I’d filled the space with plants. Dozens of plants of every shape and size. Some hung from hooks in the ceiling. Others were in pots on little stands. Some were big enough to sit on the floor.

And…I’d painted the walls.

Every wall in the house that I had access to. I could only stare at beige for so long without going insane. And yes, the place was pink. Not as pink as my bedroom, but I had clearly designed the place for me and not for a dude.

“It’s incredible. Is that my couch?” He looked gobsmacked.

“Yeah, I kind of fixed everything.”

“And the plants. Holy s**t, you have a green thumb.”

“Sort of,” I said, suddenly shy.

“Why did you think I’d hate this? It’s awesome.”

“Oh, well, uh, thanks. I just…you know, this was temporary, and I kind of took over. I don’t have a place yet, but I can find something if you give me a weekend.”

Weston blinked at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, I know you said that I could have the place while you were gone in LA and that it was, you know, a temp situation until I got back on my feet.”

“f**k, Nora, that’s not what I meant! I thought you’d want to leave. I left you an out in case you wanted to get your own place. I’m going to be back and forth from LA. So, I won’t be here all the time anyway.” He shrugged, a small smile hitting his features. “You can stay.”

“You’re sure?”

“I want you to stay.” He grinned at me. “Stay.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

“That’s a yes?”

I tipped my head down and bit my lip, trying to cover my excitement. “Yes. Yes, I’ll stay.”