Instead of the embarrassment Clay had expected, her grin widened, and her eyes shone with genuine pleasure as she turned toward his brother. “It’s so great to meet you.” She eagerly shook the hand that Levi offered.
“Likewise,” Levi said with a smile.
Clay was suddenly grateful that his youngest sibling had better manners than Mason. At least around Samantha. Once she walked away, Clay was pretty sure the interrogation would ensue, and Levi was damn good at extracting information.
“So, you’re the respectable brother,” Samantha said, her tone light and humorous.
Levi raised a brow in surprise. “Excuse me?”
“Katrina,” Clay said, knowing that was all the explanation his brother needed. The other woman had distinct opinions about each of the brothers’ personalities, and they were pretty much on point.
“Ahhh,” Levi said in understanding, then shrugged. “I suppose I am the respectable one, at least compared to Mason,” he replied with a laugh.
“That’s an understatement,” Clay muttered. “There’s a reason Katrina calls him a manwhore.”
Samantha tipped her head, her blue eyes clear and way too guileless. “I just think Mason hasn’t met the right woman yet.”
Levi rolled his eyes at Clay, who let out a laugh.
“That’s an optimistic thought, even for Mason,” he said.
Levi nodded. “The man’s got a point.”
They both knew their middle brother much too well. He’d never had a relationship with a woman that was anything more than a few days, a week tops, of pure unadulterated sex. Not to mention, the right woman was right under his brother’s nose, but Mason was either completely oblivious to her feelings or he didn’t want to take a chance on Katrina and risk ruining the close bond and friendship they’d shared for so many years.
“Samantha, your order is up,” Gina called from the service bar.
“I need to get back to work,” Samantha said, though she smiled at Levi one last time. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
Levi watched her walk away, and as soon as she was out of earshot, he glanced back at Clay, that intuitive look back in his light green eyes. “This one is different, isn’t she?”
Clay struggled to keep the truth locked away, because an affirmative answer would force him to evaluate those feelings that were stirring to life inside of him. Feelings that would acknowledge that yes, Samantha was different from any woman he’d been with before. She was unique and special—and so out of his league he was stupid to ever think otherwise.
“Whatever there may or may not be between us, it’s casual, and only until she figures out what she wants to do next.” He refused to give Levi any details about their relationship or admit just how in over his head he actually was.
Levi absently swirled the orange liquid in his glass, his gaze shrewd in a way that twisted Clay’s insides. His brother was smart. Professionally and personally, he was observant, direct, and insistent. He also didn’t beat around the bush and wouldn’t be afraid to bring up shit Clay preferred to keep dead and buried.
If Clay was lucky, Levi would keep things focused on Samantha only. “What? Spit it out already,” Clay muttered.
Levi placed his glass on the table, leaned forward, and met Clay’s gaze. “If you honestly believe this woman is a casual fuck, then you’re a goddamn idiot.”
Clay bristled. “I know what I’m doing.”
Levi released an insipid laugh and shook his head. “You don’t know shit. I saw the intimate way she looked at you,” he said as he folded his arms on the surface of the bar. “And more importantly, before you saw me, I noticed the way you looked at her. Like you were ready to vault over the counter if any guy in the place so much as laid a hand on her. I’ve never seen such a possessive look in your eyes. That’s how I know Samantha is different.”
Clay clenched his jaw, hating that he’d been so transparent. “I barely know Samantha.” The lie burned in his throat.
“I know our mother didn’t give us a reason to trust women,” Levi said, diving right into that forbidden territory Clay had hoped to avoid. “She didn’t give a shit about us, and Wyatt was even worse,” his brother went on, daring to bring up the mean son of a bitch their mother had left them with. The bastard who’d had no qualms about beating the crap out of them on a regular basis.
“Shut up,” Clay said through clenched teeth. He didn’t talk about Wyatt, ever.
Levi narrowed his gaze. “How long are you going to let what our mother and Wyatt did to us dictate your future and happiness?” he asked, ignoring Clay’s warning to end this discussion now.
Nausea swirled in his stomach as the grim memories he preferred to keep buried threatened to strangle him. A rising anger followed, but his brother was on a fucking roll, and now that he’d pried open Pandora’s box and let out all the ugliness of their past, there was no stopping him.
“No one’s perfect. Hell, everyone has a past that has shaped who they are. And no matter what you think or feel about what Wyatt did to you, you are a good person, Clay.”
Clay gripped the towel on the bar and shut his eyes tight. There was nothing he could do to forget Wyatt’s abuse or the single night that had changed Clay from a boy to a man intent on killing another human being. He’d had so much rage coursing through his veins and no hesitation about stabbing the knife he’d stolen to protect his brothers straight into Wyatt’s dark, evil heart. Unfortunately, despite all the bloodshed, the mean bastard had lived.