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Bridget laughed. “You like boobies, huh?”

He nodded. “I like your boobies.”

She swatted playfully at Matt’s arm. “You need to keep your eyes pointed at regions directly north of my boobies.” She indicated her face. “There’s nothing down here for you,” she teased as she pointed at her chest.

Matt let his gaze linger on her chest. “That’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart. There’s plenty down there for me.”

Mark rolled his eyes. Taking Bridget’s arm, he led her to the sofa, where they sat down together. “Ignore my brother. He’s missing a filter or two and usually says completely inappropriate things as a result.”

She moved closer to Mark on the sofa, enjoying the jealous glare from his twin. “So I wouldn’t have to worry about that with you?”

Mark hopped on board the flirting train, putting his arm along the top of the cushion at her back, gathering her closer. “Absolutely not. I can assure you I’m a complete gentleman.”

Matt plopped down on the couch on her other side, grasping her hand. She was ultrasensitive to every touch, every glance from these men. She wasn’t sure she’d ever been so hot for a man. Unfortunately, this wasn’t one man, but two.

“Get away from my girl.”

“Your girl?” Mark asked.

Though she could tell they were teasing, Bridget decided she’d be wise not to let the game go too far. “Oh no, you don’t. I’m not getting in the middle of a pissing contest. Something tells me the two of you take too much pleasure in it.”

Matt shrugged. “We’re brothers. It’s in the sibling rivalry codebook.”

She laughed. “Find something else to fight over. I’m only here for a few days more and I’d like to spend them in relative peace and quiet. I’ve had enough violence to last me a?—”

She froze as both men’s faces turned from smiling to scowling in an instant.

Shit. Way to go, big mouth.

“Violence?” Mark asked.

She struggled to find a way out of the mess she’d just made. “I just meant fighting amongst siblings.”

Matt looked toward the kitchen. “Siblings? Do you and Rodney fight? Does he hit you?”

“Dear God, no. He’s the mildest, kindest, most compassionate man on the planet. How could you ask such a thing?”

Mark turned her face toward his with gentle fingers on her chin. “Violence is sort of strong word for simple arguments between a brother and a sister. You know you could tell us if something’s wrong, Bridget. We’d keep you safe.”

She’d never received a more welcome invitation. For the second time in one day, her heart ached to share her painful secret. Common sense reared its ugly head. “Help me? You don’t even know me.”

“We know enough to see you’re in some sort of trouble,” Matt said. “Rodney’s constantly running odd errands around town without you, while you’re supposedly on vacation. You’ve yet to leave this inn and, well, you’re a tad bit jumpy. What’s up with you two?”

How could anyone be that observant? Maybe Rodney had been right about them hiding somewhere more secluded. They obviously had shitty poker faces. “Nothing’s up with us. Everything is as we said. We’re just here on vacation.”

Matt looked like he wanted to press the subject further, but Mark’s heavy sigh cut him off. “Okay. We’ll go with that. For now. If you change your mind and want to talk, the door’s open.”

She forced a lighthearted grin to her face. “Nothing to talk about. I’m downright dull.”

Mark shook his head. “I seriously doubt that. So, about these riding lessons?—”

While Rodney had given her the go-ahead, it didn’t change one very simple truth. “I was stupid to make that bet. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’m afraid of horses.”

Matt squeezed the hand she’d forgotten he was holding. “We’ll take it nice and slow, sweetheart.”

“In other words, you’re not letting me out of the bet.”

Matt grinned at her. “Not on your life. You’re going to spend the next three days?—”