Page 31 of Laken's longing

“Duh! Of course yuck, but he clearly wasn’t thinking straight. If he’d paid attention, he’d have seen the family resemblance. Jealousy clouds everything,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Intrigued despite himself, Isley perched on a kitchen seat not thinking about the promise he’d made himself last night to never do anything when in a temper.

Like the last time?his sugar glider pointed out snappily.

We aren’t doing that again.

We’ll see,he responded with a smugness that made Isley’s teeth clench before he returned his attention to Somme.

“Do you really think he’s into me?” he questioned, ignoring his other half’s snigger.

“Christ, Isley, when did you become this insecure? The man is nuts for you. Gone. Gaga. He wanted to rip my head off last night when he found me here. Think about it. He was mortified to be sat with pants full of cum and me staring at him.” His expression became thoughtful. “Yeah, I’d say that’s what drove him out the door. It strikes me he rarely loses control. And he doesn’t like it either.”

Somme pinched the bridge of his nose, a sure sign he was concerned by something. “There’s something about his eyes. A trapped animal, hurt and abandoned springs to mind. Be careful, you know what happens when an animal is trapped—they fight. It might be why he pushed you away in Paris.”

People didn’t give Somme credit for his insightfulness. It was how Isley saw Laken from their first meeting, just not the fighting part, unless it was with words. Laken had a genuine talent for cutting people down to size with his tongue.

Except Somme was right about the haunted quality to him. His animal had sensed it through touch. It was the best way to describe the feeling that came to mind when he caught Laken in those rare, unguarded moments. They only happened when he thought he was alone and allowed his guard to slip.

Five of the Starling brothers were adopted. He’d worked with all the brothers over the last few years. Isley knew Taylin’s back story because the press had published it when they discovered he was dating Hollis, before their engagement. The press played up the part about Taylin being divergent and being kicked out more than the success he’d made of his life and being part owner of one of the biggest fashion businesses in the world.

Booker, he'd heard from Frey, had gotten kicked out by his family for protecting Silas, the first-born son of Lane and Derick. As for the other three adopted sons, Rue, Jupiter, and Laken, Isley had no clue how they had come to be adopted by Lane and Derick. It wasn’t the sort of question one could ask of Lane,even though he was the most approachable person Isley knew, outside of Wilder who Isley loved like a brother. Wilder had caused a stir recently getting transferred by Hollis from Jupiter to Silas. Hollis’s decision hadn’t gone down well. Although technically, now Lane and Derick had retired, all the Starling brothers were Isley’s boss, regardless of Hollis deciding which PA got paired to which brother.

Somme tapped Isley’s nose, making him realize he’d zoned out. “What?”

“I said, are you going to work today?”

He clocked the time and groaned, heading to where he’d left his laptop bag, feeling the weight of his brother's stare as he prepared to leave.

“Don’t think we won’t be talking more about what happened last night.”

Isley, who’d been striding to the door, glanced back and fired up his middle finger, grinning. “So not any of your business, and you’re moving out today, remember?” As he shut the door, he heard Somme’s laughter echoing in his ears.

“Asshole,” he muttered, stomping to the lift.

On his way to work, he drained his electrifying coffee while driving through the morning traffic. With how bouncy it made him feel, it was relatively easy to keep his thoughts from wandering to Laken.

But hours later, Isley had nothing but thoughts of the infuriating man. In fact, he was considering how best to murder the man issuing bullet orders, too fast for him to keep up. In all his reveries, Isley hadn’t considered this blatant pretense that nothing had happened between them. Laken hadn’t so much as made eye contact with Isley since he’d arrived at his office to start the catch-up process from Laken’s absence the day before. No siree.

Isley had not expected this total indifference to the fact Isley had made him come in his pants! The man had spent the first half hour staring at his computer like it could answer all the questions he had about the previous day. It couldn’t. Then the next half hour, he’d stared at an envelope that had been delivered but he hadn’t opened, just looked at it with the same concentration that said he was lost in his thoughts. Isley, much to his embarrassment, had counted the minutes he’d spent doing that. His skill of multitasking came to the fore as he worked and watched the asshole opposite him. Isley could almost make himself believe that he’d imagined the heated exchange, except he had the soiled clothing in his laundry basket back at the apartment to prove it.

The following hours were no better. So here he was, wondering how to murder Laken who wasn’t appearing to need to stop for air or give Isley time to actually type up his demands.

Isley had himself poised and waited for Laken to draw breath before inserting himself into the conversation. “If you want me to do the extremely long list of tasks you’re firing like bullets, then I suggest you holster your gun for a moment and let me write them down,” he said in a sugary sweet tone.

Laken blinked owlishly, finally glancing up from his desk, though he seemed to look at Isley’s chin rather than his eyes, missing the sardonic smile.

“Pardon?” he snapped, all teeth and controlled anger.

Two could play this game because Isley had had enough of this bullshit. It was time to revert to dirty tactics.

Yes,his animal cried in delight.

One quick glance at his watch to check the time and he dropped his iPad on Laken’s desk with a clatter, uncaring if it got damaged. He rose swiftly, removed his jacket and flung it on the back of his seat before stalking to the door.

“What… where are you going?” Laken demanded, with a defined quiver in his voice that hinted he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

Isley didn’t answer but made a show of locking the door before he turned back around and leaned against it, searching the expression of the man sitting behind the large, well-organized desk. A desk as organized as the man. The black pinstriped suit had been paired with a white shirt that enhanced the golden glow of his skin. He hardly ever took off his suit jacket, and yet he never seemed to be bothered with the heat in the room. His tie was blood red and was the only splash of color. His dark, graying beard was trimmed around lush lips that currently were thinned in disapproval. Tension radiated off Laken despite his casual appearance as he sat back and templed his fingers, eyeing Isley over the top of them as if he was nothing but a nuisance.