Page 6 of Not Part of the Plan
“Nikolai,” he said again. “I didn’t want to interrupt you while you were playing puppet master.” He picked up the leather jacket he’d draped over the back of a stool. “And I didn’t want to be rude and leave without saying good-bye.”
“Good-bye,” Emma said pointedly.
He laughed, low and husky, and pulled on his jacket. She smelled leather and spice and cursed him for being everything sexy.
“I can’t wait to see if Rupert and Sunny work things out tonight,” he told her.
“All I care about is my employees showing up on time for their shifts,” Emma lied in irritation. She wasn’t innocent enough to fall for the old “I’m so interested in you I’m actually listening” routine.
“Do you always lie to strangers?” Nikolai wondered with an arch look.
“Do you always overstay your welcome?” Emma shot back.Damn. She was kind of enjoying the verbal sparring.
“Only when I’m not ready to leave. I’ll see you tonight, Emma.” His parting smile set her blood humming. He was completely immune to her Ice Queen routine. She knew from experience that the men who were immune to it were generally too stupid or too wrapped up in what they wanted to care about crossing boundaries. But Nikolai Vulkov was different. He found the freeze off… entertaining.
“Please tell me he’s single and in town looking for a wife,” Cheryl demanded, joining Emma to watch Nikolai’s fine form walk out the front door of the brewery.
“That kind of man is never looking for a wife,” Emma sighed.
“What’s his story?” Cheryl asked.
Emma shook her head. “No idea. He’s a friend of the Pierces.”
“That, my gawking gals, is none other than uber-famous photographer Nikolai Vulkov,” Lila announced, joining them at the hostess stand. “He’s Summer’s BFF. They worked together in New York for years. He visits occasionally but showed up today at one unannounced on their doorstep with a bag and no end date for his visit. Usually he’s seen escorting the sexiest of models around the city or Europe or wherever he’s working, but he’s been pulling a hermit the last few months.”
Emma stared at Lila. “How in the world do you know all that when he got here only two hours ago? Do you have Summer and Carter’s place bugged?”
Lila patted her arm. “I keep forgetting you’re still relatively new here, Em. We know everything about everyone. That’s just from Blue Moon’s Facebook group, which you should totally join, and a little society column digging I did. Mooners are predicting he’s facing some sort of life crisis and came here for perspective.”
Emma’s gaze returned to the entrance. A life crisis? Real life players didn’t have life crises.
CHAPTER THREE
Dinner was a circus. The Pierces and their progeny occupied the entire loft of the brewery, and Nikolai soon realized it wasn’t necessarily an issue of space. Emma had tucked them away to protect Blue Moon from a chaotic dining experience and the Pierces from being interrupted every five seconds by Blue Moon.
Beckett, or Mr. Mayor as his brothers ribbingly called him, had been called downstairs three times before the appetizers arrived to deal with a little town business and shake a few hands. Each time, he took a different kid with him to make the rounds. Evan, technically both Beckett and Gia’s stepson, was a mini mayor at thirteen with neatly combed hair and the uncanny ability to carry on conversations while wrangling his two little sisters. There was no “step” about the relationship between Evan and his parents that Nikolai could see.
And there was no awkwardness between the Pierce brothers and their mother’s fiancé, Franklin Merill, the jovial restaurateur holding court at the head of the table. Phoebe Pierce juggled grandbabies that were passed their way and grinned as if there was nowhere in the world she’d rather be.
The youngest Pierce, Jax, appeared to be in the midst of a battle royale with his wife, the sarcastic and leggy Joey. Just by looking at them, Niko could tell the fight was more foreplay than fury.
Niko was wedged in between Joey and Summer at the long table. The upstairs of the brewery had all of the charm and architectural impressiveness of the first floor. The same scarred, pine floors from the first floor ran the length of the dining and bar area on the second. The massive timber rafters loomed above their heads reining in the sheer space and reminding all beneath that they were drinking and dining in one of the oldest structures in Blue Moon.
Old and new twined together within John Pierce Brews. Wood that could claim decades or centuries of previous lives gleamed under sexy industrial lighting. A small freight elevator ran all three levels of the barn from basement keg room to loft. The art was all local with pastoral prints and bucolic landscapes.
Niko had to hand it to them. The Pierces had an eye for design. And judging from the rumble of the crowd below, the population of Blue Moon appreciated it as well.
He sipped his saison and observed the energy around him. It would be a fun scene to shoot. The blur of action while freezing a smile, a laugh, in time. Here, perhaps, was what had pulled him back to Blue Moon. Summer had married into a real family. A large, loud one. But here, even an outsider could see the love that flowed fast and deep.
They ragged on each other in one breath and offered a helping hand in the next, each depending on the other. They formed their own community, a village, a family.
Niko shook himself from his reverie. He wasn’t here to feel envious of the Pierces. He was here to remind himself how much he loved the life he’d already built. Consuming, exciting work, sleek, interesting women, and many of the finer things in life that a padded bank account could provide. He called the shots and had climbed the ladder high enough that he now chose his assignments.
And yet, suddenly it wasn’t enough.
He thought about what an entertaining distraction Emma would be. He felt the corners of his lips lift. She ran hot and cold in a way that fascinated him. Orchestrating the happiness of her employees in one breath and then coolly shoving him out the door in the next, she was nothing short of intriguing. And it had been a long time since he’d found a woman that intrigued him.
He’d seen her when they’d arrived. Emma was dressed in the same slim pencil skirt and black sweater she wore earlier. But she’d exchanged her flats for impractical stilettos. He couldn’t help but watch her as she shifted from task to task, greeting guests, hopping behind the bar, poking her head into the kitchen. She’d given him a cool nod before warming up her greeting for the rest of the family.
