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Just like that, Bex’s nerves sizzled with frustration. Her teeth grated together, but she resisted the urge to bite his head off. She shouldn’t be surprised that he was bringing up Wesley when he’d always looked out for his brother’s needs, even to the detriment of his own. Their parents had drilled into him that Wesley came first.
“I understand your loyalty to Wes, but I need time to think about it.” Even the thought of spilling the beans made her want to throw up her pancakes and granola. “It’s a big decision, and one I never had any intention of making.”
“Okay.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and she sensed this conversation wasn’t easy for him, although it must be a hundred times more difficult for her. “Just promise you’ll keep it in mind.”
“I will.”
He brushed a kiss over her cheek, shoved his hands in his pockets, then exited the apartment, leaving Bex both disturbed by his words and by the fact she craved a kiss more like the one they’d shared yesterday.
Good God, she was lusting after her baby daddy’s brother. What was wrong with her?
Chapter Fourteen
A month passed,full of wonderful days spent with Bex and Izzy, during which time Michael raised the topic of contacting his brother on several occasions and was asked to drop the matter. At this point, if he so much as mentioned Wesley’s name, Bex kissed him quiet, and damned if he didn’t like it. They hadn’t gone beyond kissing because she didn’t want to confuse Izzy by having him in her room overnight, nor had they gone on an official date because Michael didn’t want to move too fast and freak her out. Both she and Izzy were too important for him to mess this up.
He was sitting by himself on his sofa on a Saturday evening, a book on his lap, when his phone rang. He grabbed it and the name on the screen sent a wave of panic crashing through him.
Wesley.
“Shit,” he muttered. This couldn’t be good. He and Wesley rarely spoke. His brother was a busy man, and honestly, Michael preferred not to talk to him if it could be avoided. Their conversations always stirred a combination of resentment and guilt. Resentment over the fact Wesley had stolen his girlfriend, and guilt because deep down he believed he deserved it. He’d come close to asking Bex to choose him over Wesley all those years ago, and karma had struck back.
Unfortunately, he had to answer. If he ignored the call, it would only make Wesley curious. His brother may be oblivious to a lot of things—including the feelings he inspired in Michael—but he could be like a dog with a bone when he sunk his teeth into something.
“Hello?” he answered, heart hammering wildly.
“Michael,” Wesley said. “It’s been a while.”
It had, too. Michael never initiated contact—not that Wesley seemed to notice—so they only talked when Wesley called him.
“A couple of months,” he agreed.
“That long?” He could hear the surprise in Wesley’s voice. “Shit. We need to do a better job of keeping in touch.”
“Yeah, we’ll do that.” He wouldn’t. If Wesley wanted to, then he could put in the effort. They’d never had a great relationship—being raised by parents with a clear favorite tended to have that effect.
“Anyway, I’m not calling just to catch up,” Wesley continued.
Michael rolled his eyes. Of course he wasn’t. “What can I help with?”
“I’ve heard you moved to Haven Bay. Is it as pretty as it used to be?”
Uh-oh. Michael didn’t like the turn the conversation was taking. “It’s nice.”
“Great. I remember it being damn near idyllic when Bex and I used to visit.”
His stomach rolled over at the mention of Bex, and threatened to throw up his dinner. “Uh-huh,” he choked out.
Don’t mention Bex, or that you know how she tastes. Definitely don’t mention Izzy. Not without discussing this call with Bex first.
“We’re ramping up my political campaign. It’s only a few months until the election, and my advisors say I have a good percentage of votes in the main centers but I don’t resonate well with people in the smaller townships and rural areas. They think I’m too ‘city.’ That I don’t understand their issues. Mother has suggested I spend some time out and about, preferably somewhere small and scenic. I thought of your recent move, and it felt like fate. What do you say? Can I visit for a few days?”
“Excuse me?” Michael’s chest constricted, his discomfort escalating. “Are you sure this is the right place? It’s not very well known. There are plenty of other options to choose from if you want a good audience.”
“Eh.” He could hear the shrug in Wesley’s voice. “It’s not so much the local audience we’re concerned with, but the wider one that will be watching on TV and social media.”
“Wait.” Michael’s head swam, and he lowered his elbows to rest on his knees, woozy. “You want to come to my place with a TV crew?”
“They’d only be there for a couple of days. I’d stay a while longer.”
