Page 12

Fuck if I know. “I hate drinking it, but I get a cup because everyone else does.”
She wraps her fingers around the cardboard insulator, her chin notching up to look at me. “Just like your whisky.” In the flat sneakers she looks small, I want to wrap my fingers around the back of her neck, and pull her close, feel her body against mine. “You’re distracting me from the point.”
“What’s the point?”
“You can’t follow me like this. It’s illegal.”
“I already told you, I happen to be having coffee here. I’m not following you. Today.”
“You want me to believe you’re at the same coffee shop as mepretendingto drink coffee?” She emphasizes the word pretending.
It does sound strange when she says it like that. “I’m attending a meeting.”
“Did you happen to be outside my apartment at two in the morning last night?” Her free hand comes to her hip as she tips the coffee cup toward me to accentuate her point.
“Killian,” Triston rumbles from just behind me. I ignore him.
“No. That time, I followed you, and good thing. You were nearly killed at knife point.”
She shakes her head, letting out a breath of frustration. “You are far more dangerous than Darrel could ever dream of being. He only extorts me twenty dollars at a time. You worked out a way to take?—”
I cover her mouth with my hand. I’ll have to go through more sensitivity training if she says the next bit.
But apparently covering her mouth is enough to set my brothers off because suddenly Gris is up, and he grabs my wrist, pulling it away from her mouth. “Killian,” he hisses in a whisper. “What the fuck?”
Triston has come around my other side and reaches out a hand to Chloe. “Lord Triston Smith, President of Smith Real Estate Development, at your service.”
She slides her free hand into his and white-hot jealousy punches me in the gut as she gives Tris this cute little grin. “Lord?”
“Our eldest brother is heir to a dukedom,” Triston says with his playboy smile as he points to me.
Chloe looks back at me, her eyes wide. “Are you a lord too?”
“Yeah,” I say with a frown. It doesn’t mean shit. “So are all my brothers.” And I wave at the table.
Chloe sweeps her gaze across my family, her lips parting in surprise. “You have four brothers who are in real estate development?”
“Yes. Why?”
She shakes her head, turning back to Triston. “Crazy,” she whispers under her breath. And then louder, “It’s nice to meet you.”
“And you,” Triston reaches into his pocket, pulling out a card and handing it to Chloe. “If you need anything…” And then the fucker glances at me, his eyes full of accusation. “Please call. That’s my personal number.” He points to the bottom line of the card.
Chloe nods. “Thank you.”
“It’s a delicate situation and I just want you to know that we’re happy to help.”
I snarl at Triston, irritated he’s talking about me like I’m not here. Like I’m some problem and not frequently the solution.
Chloe fingers the card, her brows furrowed. “Does your brother make a habit of stalking waitresses?”
I’m sick of their conversation. “I already told you, I did not follow you here, and as for last night, I just like your ass.”
Chloe’s cheeks flame with color as both Gris and Tris step between me and her. Which is really starting to piss me off.
I go to push Gris away, but he’s planted his feet.
I do a lot more fighting than my brothers, but they are strong and scrappy each in his own way. Besides, we’ve got history, and they know my weak points.