Taking What's His (Shillings Agency 4) - Page 19

Steven grinned, grabbed their glasses, and headed for the bar. She watched him go, letting the smile slip off her face once he couldn’t see her anymore. He seemed sad, which was unusual for him with a breakup. He didn’t take relationships seriously.

Never really had.

But as much as she loved her brother, she couldn’t remain focused on him for long. Not when a certain glasses-wearing IT guy currently monopolized her thoughts. Her mind inevitably went back to him, and all the things Steven had told her. Knowing he was suffering, recovering, made her want to go to his house, knock on his door, and kiss him until he forgot everything. As if that would help him at all.

Footsteps came up behind her, and she forced a smile to her face. Steven’s voice was louder, which meant he was close, arriving midsentence. “…Introduce you to my date.”

The hair on the back of her neck tingled, and she stiffened. Her body had become super aware of something, or someone, and she had a sinking suspicion she knew exactly who that was. But no. It couldn’t be. Surely the universe didn’t have that twisted of a sense of humor.

Behind her, Holt laughed. “I don’t know how you found a replacement so fast, but hats off to you, man. Guess you’re ready to jump back on that wagon after all, huh?”

The universe did have a twisted sense of humor.

This wasn’t happening. Couldn’t be.

He was here. And he was about to find out who she was, too. Crap, he wasn’t supposed to be here. Why was he here? Cursing under her breath, she stood up and headed straight for the door without looking back, her steps hurried and her purse clasped in her hands. If it wouldn’t draw too much attention to her, she’d run instead of walk. Seconds from freedom, Steven grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. “What the hell, Lyd? Why are you running for the door like there’s a fire?”

“I, uh…I wasn’t running. I was walking.” She didn’t turn around, in case Holt was behind him watching them. If he didn’t see her face, he wouldn’t know who she was. She could still manage to escape unseen, if she played her cards right. “Like I said earlier, I have a really bad headache. I’m going to go—”

“There you are. I lost you in the…” Holt’s voice trailed off, dying midsentence. “…crowd.”

Slowly, oh so slowly, she turned around…knowing what she’d see when she did. Betrayal. Anger. Horror…and regret. Probably a lot of that, once he realized who she was. She didn’t want to see that, because she didn’t regret a thing.

When they locked gazes, the breath was punched out of her chest. His hollow stare, framed by his glasses, slammed into her like a freaking tidal wave. And he looked devastatingly handsome in a tux and bowtie. It wasn’t fair. The smile he’d been wearing faded the second he saw her, and his gaze dipped down to where Steven held onto her elbow. He scowled and flexed his jaw.

“Sorry, man. I was chasing my date down.” Steven glanced at her, then released her elbow and rested a hand on her lower back. “She wants to go home now, apparently.”

Holt’s jaw ticked. “I…we…” He took a breath, his nostrils flaring. “Introduce us first. Please.”

“This is Lydia. Lydia, this is Holt. I’ve told you about him.”

Lydia stared back at Holt, frozen in horror, because Holt was staring at her as if she was gum on the bottom of his shoe…or a two-headed snake. “Hi, Holt. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m…” Holt pressed his mouth into a tight line and held out his hand. “Yes, nice to meet you, too.”

Oh God. She had to touch him. Actually touch him.

In front of her brother.

Reaching out, she slipped her hand into his. The second his fingers touched her skin, her body remembered with very vivid detail what they’d done the night before.

His grip on her tightened, as if he did, too. “How do you two know each other?” he asked.

“She’s my sister, man.” Steven grinned. “My baby sister, to be exact.”

Holt’s face paled before flushing bright red. His fingers tightened on hers even more, and his scowl warned of a coming apocalypse. He let go of her, and she missed the touch. “Of…Of course she is. Of course she fucking is.”

Steven frowned. “Dude. Language.”

“I’m not six, Steven. I occasionally say fuck, too,” she said.

She rested a hand on Holt’s arm, and he tensed underneath her palm before jerking away. “No, he’s right. I’m sorry. Excuse my language. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Holt said, his voice dripping with fake sugary sweetness. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

She dropped her fist at her side and forced a smile. “Same here. It’s nice to meet you.”

Steven grinned, seeming completely oblivious to the tension between them. “Two of my favorite people, getting to meet. Maybe tonight won’t suck after all.”

“Yeah. Imagine that,” Holt said dryly.

Tags: Diane Alberts Shillings Agency Erotic
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