I know she feels the electricity between us. It’s there. She feels it. I feel it. I just need her to accept it.
“How about you let me take you to dinner tonight? I know you’re exhausted.”
“I’m going to be going to bed early,” she assures me.
“An early dinner then.”
“Conrad….” She sighs.
I hear Marshall’s voice telling me to let her see me but not to push her. I can’t believe I’m taking love advice from my younger, very single brother. “Another time then.”
“Have a great day. Tell everyone I said hello.”
Leaning over the counter, I make sure I have her full attention. “You too, baby.” Her breath hitches, and that little sound will be what gets me through the day.
“Morning, sis,” I greet Layla.
“Oh, what do you have for me?” she asks, standing from her chair. She reaches for the box, and I happily hand it over. “Oh, these look so good,” she says, opening the box and peering inside.
“What looks good?” Royce appears from his office.
“Conrad brought cinnamon rolls.” She manages to tell him before taking a huge bite of the one she chose.
“Thanks, Con,” Royce says, helping himself to a roll.
“I smell something good,” Marshall says, exiting the elevator. “I was certain with Grant being out of the office, this was going to be a long boring week without treats. It appears I was wrong.” He winks at me, and it’s obvious as hell.
“What’s that about?” Royce points to Marshall.
“Nothing.” I’m quick to reply, and I see the question in his eyes.
“Hey, Layla, I have—” Sawyer stops in her tracks when she sees us. “I see how you are. Trying to hide the goods.” She moves to stand next to Layla and grabs a cinnamon roll, taking a huge bite much like the rest of us.
“Who’s harassing my wife?” Owen asks.
“No one is harassing your wife,” Marshall tells him. “But you’re late to the party.”
“Nothing new.” Owen grabs a roll, kisses Layla, and takes a bite.
“What was up with the look and the wink?” Royce isn’t going to let this go.
“Nothing.”
“Oh, it’s something. It appears that our brother here has found himself in somewhat of a pickle.”
“A pickle? Really, Marsh?” He shrugs and grins around his cinnamon roll.
“What’s going on?” Owen asks, his tone serious. My two older brothers and their wives stare at me with concern while Marshall smirks, watching it go down. He knows he has me between a rock and a hard place. I never lie to my brothers. Never.
“Do we have to do this here?” I ask.
“Yes,” all five of them say at the same time.
“Fine. Can we at least move this to the conference room?”
Layla grabs her sign, welcoming any guests, telling them to have a seat in the small waiting area and that someone will be right with them. “Ready.” She smiles at me.
Great. Sisters are coming too. Perfect. “Big mouth,” I say to Marshall as I pass by him to go to the conference room.
“I’ll bring the cinnamon rolls,” he calls after us. I can only imagine how much he’s enjoying this.
In the conference room, I wait for everyone to take a seat. I open my mouth to tell them, but I don’t really know what to say.
“Con’s in looove,” Marshall says, stretching out the word. I glare at him, and he just grins.
“What?” Royce asks.
“Who is she?” Owen asks.
“Aspen,” Sawyer and Layla say at the same time.
“Yes. No. I mean, yes, It’s Aspen, but I’m not in love. I just… I really like her.”
“Aw.” Another simultaneous reply from my sisters.
“When did this happen?”
“At the cabin. Look, I don’t want to say too much. However, I will admit that yes, I am interested in Aspen.”
“And is she interested in you?” Owen asks.
“Yes.”
“So, what’s the issue? Are you worried about Grant and Aurora? I can’t see either of them having an issue with this.”
“No. It’s not that.” I rake my hands through my hair. My brothers know me better than anyone. None of us hid our need for fun and random women. That sounds worse than it is. I’ve not been with a laundry list, but I’ve never had a serious relationship either.
“She thinks he’s a player.”
“No. She didn’t say I was a player.” I go on to tell them what she did say, which is very little. Just enough for me to know she thinks I’m not into her and that I’ll change my mind.
I won’t.
“So what are you going to do?” Layla asks.
“Flowers,” Marshall answers for me. “I told him to