My Darling Bride(23)

Cas groans. “Oh my God, you have to stop.”

Brody shushes him. “Are you writing his dating profile? No, I am.” He takes a careful sip of his drink as his eyes hold mine. Something in them causes me to stop mixing the gin and tonic I’m making.

Unease washes over me.

Alert, alert. Something is wrong! a voice inside my head whispers . . .

He smiles. “Besides, you met my brother in Old Town. I heard there were sparks—and cherry-flavored lube.”

Old Town?

Cherry-flavored lube?

I gasp. “What?”

“Yeah, Graham Harlan—or G. That’s my little nickname for him. I couldn’t say Graham when I was little, and it sort of stuck.”

My breath quickens, doom closing in.

It clicks. Brody’s lips, his familiar jawline . . .

“Wait. Your brother is . . .”

A tall, broad shadow enters the bar and appears behind the couple, and my eyes move up to take in the man who’s sucked all the air out of my lungs. He’s wearing a blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of navy slacks. His jaw is shaven, calling attention to his razor-sharp jaw and stark cheekbones.

Tension in the bar rises, buzzing around me as he towers over everyone at the bar, his chiseled face set in hard lines, not that the iciness affects how soul-crushingly gorgeous he is. Stormy gray eyes pierce me. A rush of electricity zaps me like a live wire. I’m a frozen deer in the headlights as he rakes over every inch of me, taking me apart.

The bar noise fades, and it’s just me and him in the bar.

My heart jumps in my chest.

What is this awful thing I’m feeling when he looks at me? Fear? Attraction? Both?

Shit, whatever it is, it’s not good.

His gaze drifts to my lips, almost caressing them; then his nose flares as if he’s angry.

I fight the urge to run out the back door of the bar.

“Me,” he says darkly, answering my question earlier to Brody, the one I’d already forgotten about. “Remember?”

A long breath comes from me as I cling to the edge of the bar.

This is impossible, yet there he is.

I swallow thickly. “G is for Graham. I get it now.” Now that he’s shaved and has trimmed his hair, I recall seeing his photos in the media. I must have been blind at the motel, but he’s the kind of person you’d never expect to see at a place like the Golden Iguana.

“It’s getting hot in here,” Brody murmurs as he fans himself, his eyes flicking from my face to Graham’s as he twists to get a view of both of us. Cas chuckles, but I’m barely registering the people around me.

He sits on the stool next to Brody and straightens his collar, then leans in until his muscled forearms are on the bar. I see a peek of tattoos, a flock of birds that disappear up his arm. The name Hazel is written in script around his wrist. I hadn’t noticed it at the motel, but then I wasn’t completely myself then.

The overhead light glints off his raven hair, giving it golden highlights. The loose curls soften his jawline. He twists the Rolex on his wrist. “Give me a Blanton’s, neat.”

I whip around to the whiskey shelf, my hands shaking as I pull the bottle down. Usually I’d make the drink in front of customers, but I don’t, instead grabbing a glass and pouring it with my back to him.

Mason slides in next to me. “What the hell is up with you and Graham Harlan?”

“Nothing.” I wince, darting my eyes at Mason, then away. “Okay. I accidentally stole his car.”

He rears back. “What? How? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I feel terrible. I’m a thief, ugh. I haven’t told anyone,” I mutter. “But he hasn’t called the police yet. I think. I don’t know. He sent a note by messenger to the bookstore. Why is he in my bar? How is he Brody’s brother and I never knew? What are the chances? Am I losing my mind? Is he still there?” My brain darts in a thousand directions.

He glances back and scrubs his jawline. “Yes. Sorry. Do you want me to toss him out?”

Ugh. I wish. “No.” He sent the note. Obviously, he wants something.

He glances at him again, his voice lowered. “He’s looking at you like he’s going to eat you for dinner. Did you have sex with him?”

I watch in the mirror as a blush sneaks up my face. I might have thought about having sex with him. “No.”

He whistles under his breath. “Emmy, he’s rich as shit, and his dad is a powerful man. Be careful.”

“Who’s his dad?”

“Big-time lawyer, old money.”

A lawyer! Hello, jail cell.

I finish making the whiskey and slide a napkin under Graham’s glass as I set it down in front of him. He barely notices. A pretty young redhead in a tight black dress has taken the stool next to him, and they’re engrossed in conversation.

Brody catches my hand, his face earnest as I glare at him. “Ah, don’t be mad at me, Emmy. He was going to find you one way or another. I thought this would be neutral ground for a second meet-cute.”

I pull away. “Are you kidding me? There’s nothing romantic about me and your brother. There was no first meet-cute.”

His eyes gleam. “Be patient. Magic takes time. Especially with my brother. Go easy on him, yeah? He hasn’t had the easiest road.”