Romancing the Bachelor (A Hamilton Family 2)

“You owe me a bottle of cold champagne.”

He bent down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be by later tonight, once I’m finished here.”

“Good.” She patted his chest, gathered her bags, and headed for the door. “Enjoy your dinner, boys.”

They both said something in reply, then she shut the door behind her. As soon as it clicked, she leaned on the wall next to it, taking a calming breath. The relief she was trying not to feel was piercing and immediate. She’d had every intention of telling him about her offer…

That was a lie. It was all a lie.

For some reason she didn’t fully understand, she was scared to tell him she was leaving, and until she looked deep into her soul and examined the reasons behind her reluctance to fess up, she had no business talking to him about it. Her news would wait until she was good and ready…

Even if her future wouldn’t.

Chapter Fifteen

“You’re kidding me, right?” Shelby asked, her jaw dropping. She looked so comfortable sitting cross-legged next to him. They sat on the couch sideways, facing one another. Her long legs kept distracting him from the topic at hand. “Please tell me you’re kidding me.”

“I’m dead serious.” He held his hand up, forcing a serious expression onto his face. It was harder than it should have been, because around Shelby all he wanted to do was smile. “Scout’s honor.”

She pursed her lips, looking even more doubtful than before. “Wait. You were a Boy Scout?”

“Eagle Scout, actually.”

She leaned back, shooting him a look. “Now I know you’re lying. There’s no way you’re an outdoorsy guy who hikes and sleeps in the woods,” she said, picking up her champagne and taking a sip. “I’m calling bullshit.”

They had been talking for hours now, and it was well past the time that he should have gone to bed to get a full night’s sleep, but they were sharing stories of their past, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted to know everything about her, and she seemed just as eager to learn about him. His latest share, that he slept in the Hamilton house that Alexander Hamilton once slept in, was the one she was apparently having a hard time swallowing.

He frowned. “Why do you think I couldn’t be an Eagle Scout?”

“I’ve never seen you in anything less than a suit and tie, with shiny shoes and a matching belt.” She gestured toward his outfit. He’d loosened his tie, but he was still wearing his customary button-up shirt, designer suit, and shiny leather shoes. “You gonna wear that in the woods?”

“I have jeans and T-shirts,” he said defensively.

“Oh yeah? And when was the last time you wore them?”

He thought about that for a second. “When I painted Anna’s new place with my brothers.”

“How many brothers do you have, anyway?” she asked, tucking her hair beh

ind her ears.

“Three. I’m the second oldest.”

She smiled distantly. “I never had any siblings, but I always wanted some. It seemed nice, having built-in friends that you could count on to be there when you needed someone.”

“Unless I’m your brother.” He stared out her window, lost in thought, focusing on the top of the Bank of America Plaza. Back when they were kids, he’d been tight with all his siblings, but life took over, and he’d just been so damn busy. It had happened slowly, his disconnect from his family. So slowly he hadn’t even noticed it until it was too late. “Then you don’t have built-in friends.”

“You helped paint Anna’s place with the rest of your siblings,” she pointed out. “It couldn’t have been all bad.”

He was there when they needed them, so he guessed she had a point. Still, though. He intended to be more there for them than he had been in the past. He planned on changing.

On being better.

“I guess. Anyway, besides Anna, there’s Cole, Wyatt, and Chris. Chris is a cop, and just got married. Cole’s a Marine, and he’s never home.” He hesitated, because the second he told her who Wyatt was, she’d probably get starry-eyed like all the other girls out there. It didn’t usually bother him—it kind of came part and parcel with having a famous brother—but with Shelby…it fucking bothered him. “Then there’s Wyatt. He’s—”

“Oh my God.” Her jaw dropped. “Is he the starting quarterback for the Saviors? The cute one?”

And there it was. “Yep. That’s him, though, I don’t know that I’d call him cute.”