Letting out a grumble from the back of his throat, he stood up on shaky legs and sauntered out of the room. By the time Emily treaded downstairs, it was a quarter past eight. Dillon was sitting at the kitchen island with his head hidden between his folded arms as he mumbled to himself.
Gavin smiled at Emily over his newspaper. As it did every time she walked into a room, his whole body went on alert. He felt his blood begin to pump faster as she made her way to the kitchen island. The silky white material of her sundress gliding along her thighs and contrasting against her perfectly olive-toned skin made him nearly speechless.
Gavin cleared his throat. “He’s making promises of never allowing whiskey into his system again if the drinking gods help him get through the day,” he laughed and took a sip of his coffee. “He was never one to handle his liquor that well.”
Although muffled from his arms, the words were clear and to the point. “Fuck off, Gavin,” Dillon hissed.
Gavin chuckled and looked over to Emily. “Want some coffee?”
“Yeah, that sounds awesome. Thank you,” she laughed and took a seat next to Dillon.
“You’re very welcome.” Gavin stood up, pulled a mug from a cabinet, poured some coffee in it, and made his way to the refrigerator. Peering at Emily over his shoulder, his smile was soft and curled with knowledge. “Just a guess, of course, but you look like a girl who takes cream and sugar in your coffee.”
Her mouth fell open and then snapped shut. Shaking her head, she smiled at him.
Gavin quirked a mischievous brow and walked back over with the mug. As she went to take it from him, he reached out for her hand and gently slipped something into it.
Her eyes flicked over to Dillon where he was still hiding from the light of day.
Gavin set the coffee in front of her and took his seat.
Opening the palm of her hand, Emily glanced down to what she was holding—a bottle cap. Her gaze slid over to Gavin where he sat casually sipping his coffee, newspaper in hand, with a faint smile on his lips.
She shook her head and smiled back.
Dillon straightened and quickly turned around at the sound of the doorbell chiming. He groaned out as Gavin made his way over to answer it. When he opened it, Emily watched him greet two men, both appearing to be Gavin’s relatives. The younger of the two was good looking with the same sharp-chiseled features and hair color but had a body slightly heavier than Gavin. The senior, however, was Gavin’s twin—fast-forward twenty years—with a hint of silver hues sprinkled throughout his hair. His wide grin flashed with practiced ease as they all walked into the kitchen.
The older man’s brows arched over his blue eyes as he patted Dillon’s back. “You’re looking a little rough around the edges, son,” he chuckled.
“Good morning, Mr. Blake,” Dillon stood up to shake his hand. “Yeah, I drank a little too much last night.”
“Well, prepare to drink a little more today, youngling,” he quipped, holding up a bottle of Grand Marnier and a couple of fishing poles.
Shaking his head with a smile on his face, Dillon looked to Gavin. “Your old man’s going to kill me today with the drinking, isn’t he?”
“I’m pretty sure those are his intentions,” he laughed and settled back into his seat. “Right, Pop?”
“Absolutely,” he laughed. He then glanced in Emily’s direction, a charming grin touching his lips. “So who do we have here?”
Dillon curled his arm around her waist. “This is my girlfriend, Emily. Emily, this is Gavin’s brother, Colton, and his father, Chad.”
“It’s very nice to meet you both.” She smiled and shook their hands.
“Emily, do you have any sisters for my brother?” Colton motioned with his thumb in Gavin’s direction. Gavin rolled his eyes as he downed the last of his coffee. “My mother wants him married off soon.”
“Unfortunately, the only one I have is married,” Emily laughed.
Colton tossed his arm around Gavin’s neck. “Oh well, little man, the search shall continue.”
With his arms crossed, Gavin let out a sigh and once again rolled his eyes at his brother’s “non-mission” of finding him a woman.
Eventually, Trevor, Joe, and Chris made their way downstairs to join the group.
“What the hell do you have on?” Gavin laughed, his eyes wide on Trevor’s attire.
Wearing his finest fishing hat and vest scattered with hooks and little plastic worms, Trevor sniffed haughtily. “Whatever, dude.” He poured some coffee into a Styrofoam cup and turned back to Gavin. “At least I get on the damn boat.”
Each of the men—except Gavin—broke out into laughter. He just shook his head with an amused grin on his face and let the partial insult slide.
Trevor slapped him on his back. “Is the Gavin Blake speechless?”
Standing up to refill his coffee, Gavin smiled. “Go ahead, lay it on me, assholes. But, in my defense, it comes from my mother’s side of the family.”
Emily drew up a confused brow. “You don’t go on boats?”
Gavin’s smile was slow, making his blue eyes sparkle. “Technically, I can, but not when the water’s choppy like this morning.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I get slightly seasick.”
Dillon stood up, walked over to him, and slapped him on his shoulder. “Slightly? You wind up praying to the sea gods to get you through the trip without puking.”