“Hey, I’m not saying everyone’s a criminal, but almost everyone’s got an agenda. At some point during the years you paraded around the globe with a different woman on your arm every ten seconds, you never thought any of them wanted something from you besides just…you?”
The question earned her another frown. “Maybe. Okay, yes,” he corrected when she dipped her chin and hit him with a skeptical stare, “but frankly, that’s because I was more comfortable thinking of relationships in ter
ms of two people working their respective angles. I wouldn’t have known what to do with something sincere. That’s not how we were raised. I didn’t trust it, and I sure as hell wasn’t open to it. But I want you to be.”
Surprise momentarily tangled her tongue. “W-why?”
He simply smiled. “Because it’s real.”
God, she’d momentarily forgotten her brother was newly engaged. He’d fallen hard for a sincere, unguarded-heart kind of woman. “Chelsea’s special.”
They both got an extra moment to reflect on that because the waitress returned with the receipts.
“Undeniably,” Rafe agreed when they had the table to themselves again. “But so are you. Dad’s approach to relationships isn’t right. Neither is Mom’s, for that matter. The truth is they should have demanded better of each other, but they took the path of least resistance. Don’t use them as role models. Demand better for yourself. And don’t let one bullshitter shake your faith in your judgment or your ability to trust.”
“Rafe St. Sebastian, you’re a hopeless romantic.” She couldn’t resist the tease, but hearing his words and, more importantly, knowing he truly believed them thanks to what he’d found with Chelsea reassured her on a different level. He wasn’t the only protective sibling. She wanted her brother to be happy, and clearly, he was.
He signed off on the bill and shot her a smug smile. “There’s noting hopeless about it. Soul mates exist. Someone who calls you on your shit but accepts you for exactly who you are. Someone who always has your back.”
For whatever reason, Rafe’s definition sent Rider’s cocky words floating through her mind. For the next little while, Czarina, your ass is mine. You don’t have to worry about covering it.
Thankfully, her brother couldn’t read her deviant mind. He leaned back in his chair and drew his brows down low. “Someday, some guy is going to step up and prove my point, but you’re going to have to trust him enough to let him do it.”
“Fine. Fine. I’ll try to stay open to the possibility.” Did Rider believe in soul mates?
Does it matter? Sex, Arden. S-E-X. Just because the man possesses an uncanny ability to make you come doesn’t mean he’s your soul mate.
“Heck”—she sat back and watched Rafe finish his coffee—“maybe Dad has found him for me. I should go into this date he arranged with an open mind, because who knows. When I meet Dr. Nicholas Bancroft, I might be meeting my soul mate.”
Rafe swallowed a mouthful of coffee so fast it went down the wrong pipe. In between coughs, he managed a strangled, “Who?”
“Here. Have some water.” She offered her full glass to him. “Are you okay?”
He rejected the water with a shake of his head. “Who did Dad set you up with?”
“Nicholas Bancroft. Apparently he’s the nephew of the former owners of—”
“I know exactly who he is, and he is definitely not your soul mate.”
Jesus. Her brother knew everyone. “What makes you say that?”
“He’s a player.”
“Um. Which are you in this scenario? The pot or the kettle?”
“Someone who knows a player when I see one. The guy hit on Chelsea practically in front of my face, right after I’d told him she was mine.”
The exasperation in his voice, along with the sheer male possessiveness, had her fighting a smile. “Wow. The nerve. What was wrong with her voice that she couldn’t speak for herself?”
“Nothing was wrong with her voice. It just happens that, at the time, I was flat on my back with the flu. I hadn’t quite gotten around to closing the deal with her, so she didn’t exactly back me up when Bancroft took his best shot.”
“Yeah, well. She found her soul mate in the end.”
“Damn right she did. And so will you, but it’s not him. I trust Dr. Bancroft with a bad case of the flu, but I don’t trust him with my sister.”
…
“Trust me.”