Secrets We Whisper in the Moonlight (Decisions in Durham Book 2) Read online

  “I’m glad you’re here,” Will said with a smile. “I was just about to text you.”

  Jonah slid a sideways glance in my direction. “Lola must be back in Chicago. I never get texts anymore.”

  Will’s smile wobbled. “That’s not true.”

  There was a pregnant pause. I took the opportunity to fill it. “She is in Chicago. She stayed after Christmas to help her dad with another one of their franchises.”

  Jonah snapped his fingers. “I knew it. I only see this guy when Lola is out of town now.” His voice took on the tone of a whiny toddler, but I didn’t think he’d noticed.

  Poor Jonah. He and Will had been nearly inseparable since kindergarten. I could count the weekends on one hand that they hadn’t hung out at least once since then—well . . . before Lola. Growing up, Jonah was a staple at our house. Back then, it had felt like I had three brothers instead of two.

  I shivered involuntarily. I tried not to ever think about Jonah like a brother. But for Will, their friendship was closer than even that. Some weird foundation of similar childhood trauma, personalities, and interests. They were each other’s longest and most trusted confidants. They were constant fixtures in each other’s lives. And until Lola, I was pretty sure they both intended to keep it that way forever.

  Not that it would have been a healthy brotherhood as they rode out their single lives miserable and crotchety. They were just a decade or two from long afternoons of drinking cheap beers on the porch and yelling at the paperboys and dog-walking neighbors to get off their lawn. Lola saved Will from himself. She rescued him from an unhealthy relationship with the bar and willful isolation. They were both still workaholics . . . but somehow, they were workaholics together. So that made it okay. And also sweet.

  “She travels a lot,” Will muttered, a pathetic explanation of his terrible loyalty to his best friend. “When she’s here . . . we just . . . get a little lost.”

  I was so happy for my brother. And my new friend, Lola. I had never seen anyone make Will this happy, and I had a suspicion the same was true for Lola. He deserved this honeymoon happiness. This . . . wholeness in his soul he’d never had before. But the way he talked about her, the way his cheeks flushed red with simultaneous embarrassment and joy, the way he surreptitiously checked his phone as if he couldn’t help but make sure she hadn’t texted him in the last two minutes . . . stole my breath.

  It whooshed out of me in a sharp sensation of loss and ache. Gosh, I wanted what he had. More than I’d realized until this moment.

  A girl could only take so much of dating apps and casual drinks that led to nothing. Where were the men who took control? Who swept women off their feet like in the movies? Who were willing to make things last long enough to meet each other’s families and get involved in each other’s lives?

  It wasn’t just that I seemed to have a type. Or that I was apparently bored of that type to the point of wanting to swear off men altogether. It was that nobody excited me. Nobody I’d met recently gave me butterflies. Or made me want to check my phone obsessively for missed text messages like Will did with Lola. Nobody even gave me lukewarm fuzzies.

  And at this point, I was willing to settle for lukewarm fuzzies.

  Or even ice-cold fuzzies. Any kind of fuzzies.

  Fuzzies were my favorite part of getting to know someone.

  “I get it, man. I mean, I don’t,” Jonah told Will. “But I’m happy for you.”

  My lips curved into a smile, and I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of me. “You are such a liar, Jonah Mason.”

  He hit me with the full force of his brooding smolder—the one that got him out of detention all junior year because the science teacher both hated and loved him. The same smolder that used to star in my high school fantasies. The same smolder that could still convince me to do anything he wanted. The dreamy bastard. “Are you trying to get me into trouble, Liza?” he demanded.

  “Listen,” I said with a sigh, “we’re all happy for the lovebirds. But we can also be annoyed that their stupid happiness highlights how lonely the rest of us are.”

  Something flashed across his face, sobering the lost puppy look and making him seem too alert, too focused. “Are you really lonely?”

  It was the second time I had forgotten how to breathe in five minutes. Didn’t he know I was joking? And even if I wasn’t, why would he call me out like that in front of my brothers? I forced an overly bright laugh and tipped my head back as if he’d said something truly hilarious. “I’m just kidding, Mason. When did you get so serious?”

  “Anyway,” Will cut in, “back to why I was going to text you. I heard about this estate sale that’s supposed to have some crazy-old and rare whiskey bottles. Like pre-World War I. The guy on that Facebook whiskey group claims there’s maybe one from before the Great Depression. I don’t know. I thought it would be cool to check out.”

  Jonah’s eyes bugged. “And you’re thinking about buying one?”

  Will laughed. “I doubt I can afford anything on my beer budget. I just thought it would be cool to check it out. Window-shop or whatever.”

  “When is it?” Jonah asked. I could see the wheels turning in his head. He had one of those minds that couldn’t think quietly. Everything he did was projected onto his face, through his eyes and in the way his mouth quirked.

  “Right now,” Will said. “I was going to see if you wanted to meet me there, but I could drive us.”

  Jonah looked at his watch. Then at me. “You going, Liza? You love whiskey.”

  Better than I would ever love a man. But I had a shit-ton of work to do today. Our business taxes were due soon, and while we had a fantastic accountant, the tediousness of gathering the essential documents for the bar was left to me, since both of my brothers were entirely inept at handling small details. “I have too much to do today. Otherwise, I would.”

  “Oh, come on,” Jonah goaded. “We won’t be gone that long.”

  Will gave him a funny look but agreed. “Charlie and Ada are here. We’ll be back before we open.”

  A part of me leaped at the chance to tag along with my big brother. That he’d offered to include me made my heart dance. For most of my life, I’d been the annoying little sister who tagged along with her brothers. Another part of me genuinely liked hanging out with Jonah and Will. They’d stopped trying to ditch me a long time ago, and Jonah had become one of my best friends too. Not just Will’s.

  But I really did have work to do. Phone calls that had to be made during normal business hours. Orders that needed placing. Events that needed details worked out and dates set. I didn’t mind keeping odd hours alongside my brothers. But the majority of my work had to be done during daylight.

  “Really wish I could,” I told them sincerely. “But work calls. Enjoy browsing all the bottles you’ll never be able to afford.”

  Will grinned at me. “You never know. My girlfriend is filthy rich.”

  A laugh burst out of all of us. We all knew Will would never use Lola for her money, but it was nice to address the awkwardness of it—even as a joke. The bar might sometimes struggle, and the three of us might not be raking in the cash because we split the profits after we took care of the building, the inventory, the advertising, the employees, the small business taxes, and everything else required to keep the doors open. But if Will and Lola got any more serious, he would be living in a different tax bracket than Charlie and I did. It was an uncomfortable and cool thing that none of us knew how to talk about.

  “I’ll make sure to let Lola know you want a Civil War-era Old Crow for your birthday then,” I teased.

  “Thanks.” He grinned back.

  “Probably can’t drink that, though,” Jonah added thoughtfully. “Spend all that money just to stare at something you can never enjoy. Seems like a waste.”

  Will dug out his car keys from his pocket and shrugged. “Hey, there’s not a cap on how many bottles of whiskey you guys get me for my birthday. Lola and Eliza can be in charg
e of the fancy shit. You can gift me the rest.”

  Will’s birthday wasn’t until April, so none of us took him seriously.

  “You ready?” he asked Jonah.

  “I probably can’t today, actually.” He tucked a long strand of hair behind his ear and shuffled his feet. “I need to finish this up with Eliza, and then I promised a few other clients I’d drop by. Sorry, man.” Will looked as confused as I was sure I did. Hadn’t he already agreed to go with Will? And try to rope me into the outing too? He pushed right past our perplexed looks and said, “How long is Lola gone for? We should hang out before she gets back.”

  Will nodded, still looking befuddled. “Yeah, we should. She doesn’t get back until next week. What’s your Sunday look like?”

  “Free per usual.” Jonah shrugged. “Text me.”

  “Yeah, okay. See you later, man.” Will moved toward the door.

  Charlie perked up as he walked by. “I’ll go, Will.”

  Will shrugged again. “Sure.” He seemed to think better of it and added, “Don’t touch anything, though. We genuinely can’t afford any of it.”

  Charlie grabbed his coat off the hook by the front door. “I’m good, dude. I’m off sugar.”

  The door opened, bells chimed, and all of Will’s WTF questions were lost to the outside. I let a smile slip. I would rather die than let my brothers know how cute they could be. But sometimes, when they weren’t looking, I couldn’t help myself.

  I turned my attention to Jonah. “I’m heading back to my office if you want to talk.” Maybe the polite thing would have been to wait for his answer, but I had known Jonah for as long as my working memory could go back. He wasn’t my brother, but he wasn’t a stranger either. I saved my manners for people who needed them.

  But as I turned around, Jonah put his hand on the small of my back, nudging me in the right direction. For a strong, almost hypnotic moment, I fought the urge to lean back into his massive palm and let my weight settle fully into him.

  The urge came out of nowhere, and I instantly had a flashback to my sixteen-year-old self pining after my big brother’s best friend, who only sometimes noticed I was even alive. The memory shamed me from my head to the tips of my toes. And I fought back a fierce blush with all the forced composure I’d learned to manipulate over the years.

  Stalking forward, I gained some space between Jonah’s hand and my back. And felt marginally better.

  Except for those damn warm fuzzies I had just been mourning. It was one touch. One hand. One Jonah to my lonely, neglected body. And I could feel it slipping—the hard-won indifference I’d spent decades building.

  So what if I’d spent seventy-five percent of my life head over heels in love with this guy? We finally had a great, fantastic, ultra-platonic friendship that gave me actual joy. I wasn’t going to ruin it by confessing my undying love for him.

  Again.

  two

  Jonah followed me through the kitchen, past our genius chef, Case, and his tiny prep station, and into my office. It was quieter in here. The whirring and whooshing sounds of the kitchen were far away. And the constant clatter of the main floor felt especially distant.

  When Jonah shut the door behind him, the silence seemed to ring between us. I sat down in my desk chair, keenly aware of all the squeaks it made as my weight depressed the seat. My breathing suddenly felt too loud. Why had I turned off my streaming music when I left earlier? That would have at least masked the piercing throat clear I couldn’t hold back.

  “How can I help you?” I asked Jonah, desperate to shut off my inner monologue. “Is this really about inventory?”

  He all but collapsed into the chair on the other side of the desk. “Yes. But first, can we talk about Will? For real, what is going on with him?”

  With the holidays, it had been a while since the two of us could just sit and talk. He always came to our family’s events, but it was never just the two of us. And we never talked much when my brothers were around.

  It wasn’t that we had a secret friendship or anything. Will and Charlie knew how close Jonah and I had grown over the past several years. Especially since we worked so closely together. But it was always weird when my brothers were around. They added this extra layer of complicated awkwardness that both Jonah and I preferred to avoid.

  Early on in our friendship, they made constant comments and suggestions about the two of us. It wasn’t that we didn’t have tough skin. It was just easier when they didn’t have anything to go on and on and on about.

  Honestly, Will and Charlie were like that with any guy I brought home. But a different level of annoyance existed with Jonah. Mostly because he had never liked me as more than anything but a friend.

  And also because I couldn’t just dump him and cut ties with a simple text. Jonah would be in my life for as long as my brothers were. For as long as any of my family was. He wasn’t just Will’s best friend. Or my close friend. He was family.

  That would never change.

  A part of me was comforted by the fact that I could count on him as solidly as my brothers and my mom. He would always be there for me. He would never abandon us nor we him. But the other part, less pronounced and hidden away in my locked box of uncomfortable emotions I didn’t know how to process . . . struggled with disappointment. Maybe because while my brothers and Mom thought of him as a close family member, I couldn’t. This friendship was as good as it got for us. And like it or not, I had to figure out how to be okay with that.

  I relaxed back into my lumbar support and laughed. “What do you mean?”

  “This whole serious girlfriend thing is so annoying,” Jonah complained. “It was fine at first. I’ve never seen him this into anyone, so I’m happy for him. But honestly . . .”

  I wasn’t sure what he was complaining about. Not that I hadn’t also felt the teeth-grinding irritation of being around two people who were so in love, birds seemed to sing in their wake, and their eyes were always shaped like hearts. But I also lived with a perpetual low hum of aggravation for Will. And for Charlie, for that matter. So Jonah’s exasperation wasn’t exactly obvious.

  “You don’t like Lola?” I guessed, surprised.

  “No, Lola is great. She’s somehow sweet yet perfectly matched for Will’s assholery. It’s everything else. He’s love-sick, and it’s making me actually sick.”

  “Ooooh.” I smiled, genuinely amused. “You hate people who are happy.”

  His glare would have made a lesser woman tremble. “I’m happy he’s happy.”

  “Which is why you’re snarling right now.”

  “I’m not snarling,” he snarled.

  I bit back a smile. “He’ll level out, Mason. He just needs time to . . . adjust. This is all new for him. And for Lola, I think. Eventually, they’ll recalibrate to being normal people who need normal amounts of space and time apart. Your wingman won’t abandon you forever.”

  He threaded his hands together and propped them behind his head, then stretched out his long legs so they reached beneath my desk, just inches from my own feet. He would have been the perfect picture of relaxed and reposed if it wasn’t for his narrowed eyes. “You think I’m jealous.”

  I leaned forward on my desk, blinking innocently and resting my chin in my folded hands. “I know you’re jealous. And it’s adorable.”

  His glare eased as if he was surprised. “I’m not jealous. And I’m not adorable, English. Sometimes, I don’t think you know me at all.”

  My smile escaped. It couldn’t be helped. Something was one hundred percent wrong with me . . . but grumpy Jonah was my favorite Jonah. “Okay, fine. You’re not adorable. You’re hideous. And I hate looking at you.” I paused long enough to enjoy the twitch of his full lips. “But you’re going to have to explain more about why you’re annoyed with Will for me to understand why this isn’t jealousy.”

  He shrugged. It was all masculine energy and too much testosterone. He really was right. Nothing about Jonah Mason was adorable. Adorable should
be saved for babies and kittens. Virile was a much better word. Aggressively sexy—another accurate phrase that could be used.

  “I’m coming to terms with her being the one,” he said carefully, slowly. It wasn’t as though he didn’t think I could understand him. It was more like . . . he was testing the words out for himself to see if these were the ones he really felt. I knew Jonah well enough to know he was a man true to his word—almost to a fault. There was no wiggle room with him. He said what he believed and believed what he said. And God save you if you tried to argue with him. “I knew it would happen at some point. He’s been trying to force girls into being ‘the one’ since high school. But at least this one seems to measure up to what he deserves.”

  “Please stop talking about Lola like she’s a bottle of whiskey he’s been hunting for. She’s my friend.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s your friend, Liza.” I gave him a look. What was that supposed to mean? He sighed. “Fine, he got lucky. Really lucky. He could have ended up with the—” He didn’t finish his thought. We both knew he meant the one who slept with Charlie. “I just don’t know why he has to flaunt it. Like, we get it, dude, you’re happy. No need to rub it in the rest of our faces.”

  Ah.

  There it was.

  Jonah was jealous, but not because Lola had unseated him from the person Will loved most in this world. It was because Will had found someone. Found the someone. And was genuinely happy and in love.

  Jonah didn’t only feel left behind. He felt left out.

  The realization that Jonah wanted what Will had hit me like an actual punch in the gut. I lost my breath again. It expressed out of me in a push of air and common sense. Did I have asthma? What was wrong with me?

  In my defense, I had somehow never imagined this moment. I’d never pictured Will settled down. Or Jonah. Or Charlie. For as long as I could remember, it had been the four of us. We did everything together. We lived life together. And drank together. And ran a business together.