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“I didn’t realize you were that good,” Garrick added. “Was that your song? You wrote it?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks blossomed with a soft blush, and he instantly wanted to create more blushes all over her body. “Yeah. It’s just a first draft. Not done yet, by any means.”
“Well, it sounded amazing to me,” Jackson said again.
Ariella looked to Garrick, as if to ask what was going on.
“I’m his brother.” Jackson walked over to her with his hand out. She gently shook it with a smile.
“I figured that much; you two look identical. Well.” She glanced at Garrick. “Except his hair is much longer, and you don’t scowl like he does.”
“I don’t scowl.” Garrick stepped over to them.
“You’re doing it right now,” she pointed out.
“She’s right. You are.” Jackson added with a grin.
“I think your wife is waiting for you.” Garrick turned sideways, sweeping his arm out. A clear indication it was time for Jackson to go.
“No. Keagan’s not expecting me until tonight. I have all day.” Jackson folded his arms over his chest like he was going to make himself at home.
“Not here, you don’t,” Garrick said. “Unless you need something else, I think we’re done.”
Jackson frowned, dropping his hands to his sides. “No, there’s nothing else.”
“All right then.” Garrick walked him to the front door.
“About Ar–”
“If I find anything out, I will give Peter a call.” Garrick cut him off before he could say Ares’ name. Having Ariella asking questions about him would sour his mood. He didn’t want to discuss Ares and Peter and all the family bullshit.
Jackson gave a curt nod. “That’s all I ask.”
“I will.” Garrick insisted.
“And maybe,”—Jackson swept his gaze back to Ariella then back to Garrick—“we can have a family dinner. Keagan, me, you, Bastian and…what’s her name?”
“Ariella. Her name is Ariella.” Garrick answered, shifting his body to block her from his view. “And maybe.”
Jackson’s jaw ticked. “All right. I’ll talk to you later then.”
“Sure.” Garrick nodded. “Later.”
With another nod, Jackson turned and jogged down the steps to the path that would take him to his car. Garrick didn’t wait; he shut the door and locked it.
“Why don’t you like your brother?” Ariella asked from behind him. He turned around to find her standing only a few steps in front of him. It was the first time he’d seen here since bringing her home the night before. His body needed to relax. But fucking hell, the woman was killing him in that soft blue flowing dress. Her hair fell in wide curls around her shoulders and those fucking lips of hers. He just wanted to pull her to him and kiss her, kiss all the stubbornness, all the attitude, all the resistance from her.
“Who said I didn’t like him?” He walked past her and back into the living room.
“It’s obvious,” she wandered into the room after him.
“Bastian told me what your father did to your music room.” He pointed to the piano. “You can play whenever you want. Bastian said he has your guitar, too, so I’ll make sure he brings it in for you.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would you do that?”
