Page 122 of Savage Suit

A few minutes passed in companionable silence. After swallowing a bite, Ryan looked at me. “Can I ask you something?”

Not done eating, I nodded.

Her eyes lingered on my face. “Who was the woman you were on a date with at the restaurant? Rosalie Howard?” she asked, not hiding her jealousy as she said my sister’s name. She lowered her lashes. “If I remember correctly,” she mumbled.

I stared at her and choked at her question, which quickly turned into body-racking coughs. Fuck if I hadn’t lost my mind. Her jealousy thrilled me.

“Are you okay?” she asked in concern, eyeing me as if she’d jump up at any moment to save me.

I swigged my Dr. Pepper to clear my throat. Back to normal, I took a deep breath and stared at Ryan’s mouth. “I’m fine.” The memory of her luscious lips wrapped around my cock hardened me. Meeting her gaze, I saw genuine concern. Allowing me to make love to her without knowing Rosalie’s identity underscored how vulnerable she’d been. “Rosalie is my sister,” I said gruffly. “Howard is her married name.”

Shock entered her eyes. “Oh.” She bit her lip, and I held back a groan. My cock throbbed. “You two look nothing alike,” she said after a moment.

“Rosalie is the spitting image of our mother,” I said wistfully. Every time I saw my younger sister, Mother came to mind. At twenty-seven years old, Rosalie looked just like our mother at that age. Though Nicholas also had our mother’s green eyes, Rosalie was the only one to inherit her blonde hair, which increased their uncanny resemblance.

My heart ached as I thought about my younger sister. Rosalie lacked our mother’s warmer qualities. When I received Rosalie’s call informing me she’d driven from her home in The Hamptons to have dinner with me, I knew she’d been after a favor. Money. Still, I accepted her dinner invitation to one of her favorite restaurants, knowing I’d foot the bill but hoping she just wanted to see me. We’d enjoyed our meal and had even reminisced about our childhood. For a time, our easy banter had deceived me. Then, on the way to her hotel, my sister informed me she and Wilson, her husband, needed financial help. Though I suspected the reason for her visit, her requesting a check disappointed me.

“I thought the other plans you mentioned referred to…inappropriate activities.”

I grinned at her primness, but she offered me a stern look and turned her attention to her phone. A few minutes went by before she spoke again.

“Your little sister seemed very possessive of you.”

“She is.” She was the middle child, and one of two girls in a family full of men. As bad as she was with her brothers, she’d been even worse with our father. My sister…the thought trailed off as Ryan’s words sank in. “How’d you know she’s younger than me?”

Googling the Keegan name yielded a plethora of information, especially about me. We’d all worked hard to keep Rosalie and Remy out of the public eye, so one would have to dig a little deeper to find anything about her.

I wanted Ryan to admit her curiosity. It would mean she was interested enough in me to research me.

“You’re Noah Keegan,” she said casually. “I’ve just spent the past week curating your mother’s life story.”

“The Keegan sibling birth order isn’t common knowledge. In the entirety of your video, I only saw photographs of me with my mother.”

“Honoring her memory was your idea,” she responded. “Besides, I worked with what Reid provided.”

“You didn’t know anything about Rosalie,” I challenged. “How do you know she’s my ‘little’ sister if you didn’t know her identity?”

“Fine,” Ryan conceded with a sigh and nodded to her phone. “I just Googled you.”

Her sheepish tone made me grin, and her gaze briefly flickered to my lips. “Stalker,” I joked.

It fucking thrilled me she cared to know about me. Besides, seriously accusing her of stalkerish behavior, considering my extensive background check on her because of my attraction, was hypocritical.

Her eyes widened, her skin flushing.

“No, I’m not!” An adorable giggle escaped her. “I was just curious about you, and Google is right here!” She tapped her phone.

“Well, then.” I rested my elbows on the small metal table and leaned forward. “What do you want to know?”

“Google doesn’t tell me the basics. For instance, what’s your favorite color?”

I’d never considered the unimportant detail. “Teal,” I answered after a moment’s reflection.

“Teal’s a pretty color. I would’ve guessed gray since it’s your office color. Why—”

“Not so fast, Ms. Hagen.” Gray reflected my usual mood. How sobering. “It’s my turn now.”

Her eyebrows rose a notch before she playfully grinned at me. “Oh? So, we’re playing twenty questions, then?”