Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family 2)

“Let me see,” he demanded, reaching for the easel to turn it back.

Anna watched with wide eyes.

Brett smirked.

“Hey.” She turned it away. “No.”

He cocked a brow. “No?”

“That’s right. I know you’ve never heard the word before, but it means that you can’t look at it.” She lifted her chin and pointed the end of her paintbrush at him. “Capiche?”

A small laugh escaped him. “Did you seriously just capiche me?”

“Yep,” she shot back. “It means—”

“I know what it means. Jesus, Shel.” He dragged a hand through his hair, laughing again. “Are you actually a sixty-year-old man in disguise?”

She wriggled her brows at him. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

This time, his laugh was loud, and he leaned in, caught her hand, and pulled her close. She waited breathlessly as he whispered in her ear. “Actually, I would, and you damn well know it. Anytime. Any place. I’m yours.”

Her grip on the brush tightened, and she shot a quick look at his sister. Anna smiled at her, her eyes still comically wide, and Shelby smiled back. It wasn’t her real smile, though. It was too tight. “We’ll talk about that offer later, when we’re alone.”

Well, hell. That wasn’t a no.

He’d take it.

Anna cleared her throat. “So, uh, how do you two know each other, again?”

Brett nudged her, shooting her a mind your own business frown.

Anna, in return, mouthed: “What?”

“We met at work, technically, but we also live in the same building,” Shelby answered.

Eric was too busy watching the interaction between Anna and Brett. They didn’t need to say a word, and yet they understood one another. It was fascinating.

Was this what people did when they paired off into monogamy? Did they take classes on how to silently communicate, or did they wake up one day with the ability to know shoving your elbow at the person you loved and frowning with deep, awkward eye contact meant knock it the fuck off?

“Oh, so you’re a lawyer, too?” Anna asked.

Shelby returned her attention to her painting and picked up her brush. “No, actually, I’m a court reporter.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Brett took a sip of his wine. “So, you’ve seen Eric in action in the courtroom?”

“I have.” She side-eyed him. “It was one of the things I admired most about him, when I first saw him. His ability to argue his way out of anything is fascinating to me.”

Brett cocked his head. “You like his arguing?”

Shelby nodded, lifting her glass and swallowing the rest of the wine. Their bottle was empty because the class was almost finished. “Yes. In fact, I find it incredibly attractive. Nothing is sexier than a good brain, if you ask me. It’s always the first thing I take note of in a person—the ability to think things through. Even when I didn’t like him, I admired that.”

Anna’s eyes bulged. “You didn’t like him? Why?”

“He…” She shot Eric an apologetic look, and he shrugged, silently giving her permission to go on and say what she wanted to say. “I kind of thought he was a player without a soul.”

Eric laughed. “Wow. No sugarcoating for my sister, huh?”

“You shrugged!” she cried, swatting at him. “That meant I could say what I wanted.”