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“I’ll be putting a ring on that finger before long.” Austin takes her hand and rubs his fingers into her palm. “Soon as I get my billions.”
“Billion,” Chance says. “You get a billion. Singular.”
“Only a billion?” I roll my eyes and take another drink of beer. “Howwillwe survive?” I hold up my empty bottle. “Chance, bring out that MacAllan. I need something a little stronger.”
“After dinner,” Chance says.
“No.” I’m in no mood to be told no tonight, especially not by my tank of a little brother. “I want some now.”
“That means something’s wrong. What’s up?” Austin demands. “This isn’t you talking, Miles. Chance is the grump.”
“Hey!” Chance counters.
Austin ignores him and keeps going. “I’m the guy who goes off halfcocked and you’re the brooder. And you’re brooding a hell of a lot more than usual.”
I look at him and glare. Brooding. “How the fuck would you know? You don’t know anything about me.”
Except Iama fucking brooder.
“No biggie.” Chance rises. “I’ll get the scotch. But Louisa’ll have dinner ready in half an hour or so.”
Half an hour? In a half hour I’m planning to be drunk off my ass.
Damn. I thought a day of grinding work would ease the tension out of my bones, but it didn’t. I’m still just as pissed off.
And I still fucking miss her.
I miss Sadie Hopkins. The woman I barely know but can’t get out of my head.
Fuck her, anyway.
“Miles,” Carly says, “what’s the matter?”
“I’m fine,” I say a little more harshly than I mean to.
“Dude”—Austin eyeballs me—“don’t take your bad mood out on my woman. It’s not fair.”
He’s right, of course. “Sorry,” I mumble, slumping lower in the chair.
“Can we do anything to help?” Carly asks.
“I wish you could.” I turn to my brother. “Be good to her, man. She’s a keeper.”
“I plan on it.” Austin finishes the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the deck railing. “What’s eating you, Miles?”
If I could only put it into words. But nothing makes sense. I don’t do relationships, so why am I tangled up in knots over a woman who clearly doesn’t want to be with me? A woman who lied about being with me? Sure, she eventually came clean, but still… Should I cut her a little more slack? Sheisa detective on a case involving my family.
God, if only she didn’t feel like the most perfect glove around my cock…
“Where the hell is Chance with that scotch?” I glance toward the French doors leading into the house.
“Right here.” Chance comes out and sets the bottle and a lowball glass in front of me. “Help yourself.”
“Aren’t any of you going to join me?”
“Happy to,” Chance says. “After dinner.”
“For Christ’s sake.” I open the bottle, pour myself two fingers of the amber liquid, and take a taste, letting the warmth and smokiness settle over my tongue before it trickles down my throat.
