Page 17 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Amy," Kate warns.

"What? I'm just making an observation. A factual observation. Silver fox. Tall. Built. Those cheekbones. Come on."

"I'm aware he's objectively attractive," I say, taking another bite of pancake.

"Objectively?" Amy's eyebrows shoot up.

"Winter, the man looks like he was designed by someone who really understands bone structure and wanted to show off."

"Okay, yes. He's very attractive. Extremely attractive. Happy?"

"Were you in the same room with him?" Kate asks.

"Obviously. It's not that big of an event."

"Did you talk to him?"

"No. We've never really talked. I've seen him at maybefour or five family things over the past two years. We say hello. That's it."

"That's it?" Amy looks genuinely disappointed.

"You've been in proximity to that man five times and you've never had an actual conversation?"

"What would we talk about? 'Hi, I'm dating your brother who you apparently can't stand. Weather's nice?'"

Kate laughs. "Fair point."

"Although," Amy says thoughtfully, "that could be an interesting conversation. 'So, Knox, what's it like having a brother who clearly lives in your shadow despite getting all the family approval you rejected?'"

"I'm not asking him that."

"You should. I bet he'd have thoughts."

"I bet he'd politely excuse himself and find literally anyone else to talk to."

"I don't know," Amy muses.

"From what I've read, he's actually pretty direct. Not rude, just... doesn't waste time on bullshit. I respect that."

"You've read about him?" I ask.

"Obviously. He's on every eligible bachelor list in Manhattan. Forbes did a whole profile on him last year about building Sterling Luxury Developments from the ground up. The man walked away from his family's empire and built his own. That's—" she waves her fork for emphasis, "—that's hot."

"It's impressive," Kate corrects. "The word you're looking for is impressive."

"It can be both."

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. "You two are ridiculous."

"We're entertaining," Amy counters. "There's a difference. But seriously, Win. You were in the same room with him last night. Did you at least look at him?"

I think about those three seconds. The way his eyes met mine across the tent. The brief acknowledgment, nothing more, but something about it felt... seen. Like in that moment, we recognized something in each other. Two people navigating the same complicated family dynamics, both present but separate.

"I noticed him," I say carefully. "Hard not to. He has a presence."

"A presence," Amy repeats. "That's the most diplomatic description of 'stupidly hot' I've ever heard."

"I didn't say he was hot."