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“You.”
“Damn straight.”
“Theo?” Shelby walks into the kitchen where I’m making dinner, and I glance over at her. I’m momentarily distracted by the sight of her in tiny little sleep shorts and a thin tank top. Her tits are definitely getting bigger, and they strain against the material. I lick my lips in anticipation of my dessert.
“Hey.” Shelby snaps her fingers in front of my face, scattering my daydream. “My eyes are up here,” she says in an amused tone.
“What’s up, my little muse?” I ask as I adjust myself, not bothering to hide my condition.
“Besides the obvious?”
I laugh at her sass and give her a quick, hard kiss before turning back to the skillet where I’m searing some chicken.
“I just got a call from a Rebecca Porter. Apparently, she’s an agent.”
“Really?” I keep my tone nonchalant.
“Theo?” she growls like a little tiger kitten. I can’t help smiling at how fucking adorable she is. “Did you do something? Con an agent into representing me? Blackmail? Why would she call me out of the blue?”
I turn off the stove and twist to face her, looping my arms loosely around her waist. “I’ll cop to sending her your demo and asking her to listen to it. But the rest is all you, Shelby. She wouldn’t offer to rep you if she didn’t think you were worth it. So, congratulations, my little muse. Seems I’m not the only one who knows how amazing you are.”
Shelby’s face lights up and she beams at me. “I can’t believe it. Wait.” Her expression turns curious. “Why didn’t you just send it to your agent? I’ve heard you say that you trust him implicitly.”
My arms tighten and I plaster her body up against mine. “Yes, I do trust him. But you just said the operative word, my little muse. He.”
Shelby rolls her eyes and gives me a “you’re being ridiculous” shake of her head. “You just said you trust him.”
“With my career, but not with you,” I grumble.
Before she can respond, my phone rings, and it’s the perfect excuse to get out of this conversation. Glancing at the screen, I see Austin is video-calling me. I pick up my iPad that is sitting right next to it, but before I answer, I give Shelby a nudge toward the hallway. “Go put something on, little muse.” No one gets to see her like this, not even my brother.
“So? Did my little surprise do you any good?” he greets with a big cheesy grin. With everything going on, I forgot that Austin had been shooting on location in the jungle and he wasn’t up to speed on what had happened over the last several weeks.
I scratch the scruff on my chin and return his smile. “As a matter of fact, it changed my life.”
Austin tilts his head to the side, his face filled with confusion. “What?”
“Is this acceptable, oh mighty Apollo?” Shelby’s tone is dripping with sarcasm and I can’t help laughing when I turn and motion for her to join me. She’s wearing one of my T-shirts and some fitted leggings. Since my brother can’t see below her waist, I don’t bother asking her to change. She slips under the arm I lifted for her. “You look great, baby,” I tell her with a kiss to the top of her head. Then I lift my chin to indicate my iPad. “Austin, this is my fiancée, Shelby. Shelby, my little brother, Austin.”
Shelby waves shyly while Austin stares with his jaw hanging down, completely dumbstruck.
“Oh, and congratulations on becoming an uncle.” I figure I might as well tell him everything now and let him deal with the shocking news all at once.
“Fiancée? Uncle? Married—what the fuck?” he shouts after sputtering for a moment or two. “She’s pregnant?” He looks at Shelby suspiciously, and I see red.
“Austin,” I warn, my voice low and steely.
His gaze swings back to me, a frown marring his perfect, Hollywood-approved face. “Explain.”
My eyes narrow. “I will, but you better keep yourself in check, little brother.” I know he’s looking out for me, but that shit goes out the window when it comes to Shelby.
I give him the run-down of the last several weeks, omitting anything to do with our intimate relationship, and the distrust in his eyes slowly dissipates. “You should understand more than anyone, Austin. She’s the one.” His expression turns sheepish. He’s been telling me for years that I would fall in love when I met “the one.”
“Wow.” He shakes his head. His eyes land on Shelby. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes sincerely. “It’s just hard to know when women are after your money and fame rather than wanting you for you.” His brown eyes, that look so much like mine, are filled with sadness. My understanding of his reaction strengthens as I think about all the women that throw themselves at him. He barely dates anymore because so many people have shown themselves to be shallow social climbers from the first date.
