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Though, I doubt he’d see it that way since he calls Griffin Captain America. With Griffin’s traditional good looks and his chosen career paths, he’s a poster boy superhero.

Then there’s Roman. The baby. The one who couldn’t give a shit about anything or anyone. The one I don’t have the time or patience to deal with. While Griffin and I are close, so are Ian and Roman. Or, were.

Since the guy hasn’t been around in years, too busy doing whatever-the-hell, he hasn’t responded much to anyone,including Ian, who argues that we should give him another chance. That he’ll be back. That he’s simply sorting himself out.

Okay.

Sure.

I’ve got enough on my plate without holding my breath for my baby brother to stop acting like such a baby.

Griffin receives a call and tells us he has to get to the firehouse for an emergency. He’s off after a quick goodbye, so Ian and I decide to take our time strolling around downtown. Ian’s shop is right in the middle of Aster Street, sandwiched between a bakery withthe bestcinnamon buns and a bookstore, run by a woman who cuts us off before we reach Stone Ink.

She smiles at both of us, holding up a pile of mail in her hands. “Special delivery.”

“Hey, Nic,” Ian says quietly, accepting the envelopes from her. My brother, all six foot three inches and two hundred and some pounds of him, practically melts. He’s pure muscle, covered in tattoos, with shoulder-length hair and beard, but the quiet bookshop girl never fails to bring him from bear to cub. And I don’t think she has any idea.

She smiles at me. “Hi, Taryn. How’re you doing?”

“Good. You?”

“Fine, thanks.” She motions to the mail, her attention back on my brother. “I was just dropping these off on my way to grab lunch.”

“It’s two o’clock,” Ian says, checking the time on his phone. “Why didn’t you eat yet?”

“Got busy stocking and…”

Ian grunts like the animal he is, but Nicole merely lifts a shoulder. “Anyway. I’ll see you later.”

I watch my brother watch her cross the street toward the sushi place, and I’m not sure how these two have worked nextto each other all these years without ever realizing what’s going on between them.

But what do I know? I accidentally slept with my thirty-year-old project manager.

And I don’t want to meddle, especially when Nicole is married.

“So,” I start, stealing Ian’s focus, “I’m going to get back to work.”

He squeezes my shoulder affectionately. “See you later, boss.”

I head toward The Nest with a wave, taking my time, enjoying the fifteen-minute walk. Being a working single mom of two teenagers doesn’t leave me a lot of time to myself, but my therapist makes sure I always schedule daily walks and weekly pottery sessions to release the stress.

Which ratchets up when I step inside the B&B, noticing Dante in the back, talking with one of the contractors. It’s his third day on the job, and fortunately for the bottom line, he is impressively efficient and knowledgeable.

Unfortunately for me, I can’t stop instinctively finding his lips. They’re wide and constantly curled up into a smile. I don’t know how he is alwaysalwayssmiling.

But suddenly, I’m thinking about how he made me smile last weekend.

How he pressed those lips to the soft and tender flesh between my legs and ate me up like I was his favorite flavor.

As if he can see inside my head and the memories scrolling like a movie, he flashes me his grin, licking those torturous lips of his.

I can’t deal with this right now.

And I power walk in the opposite direction.

Chapter 7

Dante