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Fuckity fuckity fuck…

Two pairs of identical blue eyes blazed up at her.

Well, you did question their manliness.

And there was no mistaking the man in them now.

She’d wanted to chop off her own tongue as soon as she’d said it. Watching the brothers in a standoff and somehow knowing she’d been the cause sent a fire up her like none other.

And then Blake had purposefully contradicted his earlier taunt – we don’t like to share – but clearly that only applied to women. And seriously, right now, she’d share.

And that said more about her than them.

Get with the karma, Astrid!

‘I say it as I see it, and right now, you two’ – she waved her phone between them, cocking a hip with as much confidence as she could muster – ‘are behaving like you’re yea high.’

‘She’s not wrong,’ Aiden said, his eyes softening with good humour.

‘She’s not entirely right either,’ Blake said, his eyes still blazing as his grin made a return. ‘You want to put that judgemental ass down and I’ll go get you that drink I owe you.’

Why, dear God, did his commanding air shoot an illicit thrill straight through her? What was wrong with her?

‘You don’t owe me?—’

‘Oh, I do, my brother here says it so it must be true.’ He rose up, towering over her with his broad frame, alluring mouth, dizzying blue eyes and her objection died with the fanny flutters. Fucking fanny flutters!

Oh, how she’d missed those babies, but now wasn’t the time… he wasn’t the guy. Delia’s book could deliver on those in the fictional world later. Bella had promised!

But her body wasn’t getting the message. Worse, he knew it too. The arrogance in his gaze, the cocksure twist to his mouth as he stepped around her and she watched him go. Helpless. Drowning in a sea of lust. Could one expire from such a thing? She certainly felt about ready to combust.

And what about Sissi and his whole ‘I’m onto you’ ? Had he really put two and two together, realised who she was talking to, mentioned it to his brother even… and how the hell could she find that out without giving the game away herself?

‘Told you he was a pussycat,’ Aiden said wryly, calling her attention back to him as he swigged his beer. ‘I’d like to say he softens the more you get to know him but…’

She gave a wavering smile, unable to trust her voice or meet his eye as she shrugged off his brother’s jacket.

Its style making her long for the comforting familiarity of her own aviator jacket that she’d swapped out for the fancy cashmere coat her grandparents had bought her for Christmas.

Granny would be so pleased to see her wearing it, not so pleased with the reason why she was wearing it.

It was aviator out, cashmere in for Aiden.

Though for Blake…

Quit thinking of Blake!

She slammed her butt down and grabbed her prosecco, downing it in two.

‘Yeah’ – he eyed her empty glass – ‘he has that effect on people.’

She let out a nervous laugh. ‘I’m surprised you’re not an alcoholic – oh God !’

As soon as the words were out, she wanted to clamp a hand over her lips. How could she say something so foolish, so careless, when his father…?

‘I’m so sorry.’

Aiden’s silence echoed louder than the chatter all around and she floundered for something to say.

She was a prized reporter, famed for getting on people’s good side.

But these guys, these twins… they were quickly becoming her kryptonite.

She couldn’t keep her head in their company.

And that was a problem. A great big career jeopardising problem.

People wouldn’t want to work with her again if word got out that she was a rambling unprofessional mess.

‘That was thoughtless of me. I shouldn’t have said it.’

He attempted a smile. ‘I think I implied it first.’

She swallowed. ‘You were teasing.’

‘And you weren’t?’

He was being kind, giving her an out. Why, oh why did he have to be so nice?

‘Of course. But still…’

He leaned back into the worn leather seat. ‘Might as well get it out the way now. Yes, our father was a drunk. A mean drunk. And it had nothing to do with Blake, nothing to do with anyone else but himself and his own weakness.’

‘It’s a horrible affliction.’

‘One that affects more people than we’ll ever know because most won’t admit to it. My father being one.’

‘That had to be tough growing up.’

He rubbed at his jaw. Unlike his brother, he lacked the stubble to run his hands over, but the move was identical. ‘Tough doesn’t come close. And my brother suffered more than most.’

‘How so?’ she couldn’t stop herself from asking, wanting to know it all. For her article, for karma, for her.

He shifted in his seat, his eyes drifting to the bar and her back prickled – Blake was on the move. ‘And that is a question for another day.’

‘Sure, but… I’m sorry anyway.’

‘Apology accepted.’

‘Woah,’ Blake drawled, planting two bottles of beer and a prosecco on the table. ‘He’s got you apologising now too, what gives?’

She gave a flustered, ‘Nothing.’

And Aiden didn’t contradict her.

‘In that case, shift over so I can get in; my ass ain’t gonna perch all that easy.’

What? She glanced up. He wanted to sit on her side?

Though to be fair, they were big guys – it made sense for her to be the one to share. But still… she swallowed, scooting over slowly, and he joined her. No such worries on his part as his thigh came up against hers, his biceps too, her body thriving on every connected millimetre as her heart raced.

‘So…’ He slid her drink over and she reached for it on impulse. ‘Sissi alright?’

Her hand faltered, her galloping heart with it. ‘Huh?’

‘Sissi?’ Aiden probed.

‘Her friend. She was on the phone to her when I arrived; seemed like it was a fairly intense convo.’

‘She’s – she’s fine.’ Astrid wet her lips, tucking an errant curl behind her ear. Her friend, he’d said. No suggestion of a connection to them. And Sissi didn’t have to be short for Sienna. And even if it was, there had to be a million Siennas in the world. ‘Or she will be soon. Thanks for asking.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ He settled back in the booth, and she took a drink to settle her nerves.

Another to fill the silence that suddenly felt strained.

Though it was entirely possible that the tension remained wholly within her, sparked by him stepping in on her phone call and magnified by the very real body heat closing in on her.

What had he meant by ‘I’m onto you’ if he hadn’t been referring to Sissi?

She could hardly ask him with Aiden sat right there. But she could hardly go home with him either. No, no, no.

‘You want to know what I think would be fun?’

‘No,’ her and Aiden blurted in unison and Blake chuckled.

‘Tough, I’m going to tell you anyway. I think if this little firecracker is going to spend her days quizzing us on our life story, we should get to do a little quizzing of our own.’

‘Little firecracker ?’ she shot at him.

‘Sorry, would you prefer Twinkle Toes?’

‘I’d prefer Astrid; it’s my name after all.’

‘And it does suit you, but we’re all about monikers in this business.

It’s an occupational hazard. He’s the Ice King, I’m Fury, and you’ – he dialled up the intensity of his gaze as it swept over her – ‘are definitely a firecracker. It’s in your eyes.

And that smile… when you choose to give it like you mean it. ’

Fuck fuck fuck , there went her heart and her foo foo and her brain.

And she couldn’t escape, hemmed in by his body as much as his gaze.

‘Seems like a fair trade to me,’ Aiden said.

Fair? She sipped her prosecco while fighting the urge to climb the wall to her left.

Just chill, it’s not like they’re gonna press you on Sissi and a certain pact you made…

‘What do you want to know?’

‘You’re English, right?’ Blake said.

‘Half English. Half Scottish. Brought up in the Cotswolds.’

‘Sisters, brothers?’

‘Neither.’

‘Mother, father?’

‘Mother. The latter I haven’t seen since I was seven.’

‘No?’ Blake was quick to pick up on that one. ‘You don’t seem all that sad about it?’

‘My life improved greatly the day I stopped depending on him to make it better.’

Something akin to admiration shone in his gaze. ‘Sounds like we have that in common.’

‘So it would seem. Next.’

She didn’t hesitate. She was brave and in her comfort zone because she could talk about her childhood in spades. She’d found peace with her father, or lack thereof, long ago.

Blake looked at Aiden who tipped his bottle, granting him full rein. Either he wasn’t interested, or he wasn’t concerned about his brother’s line of questioning. She hoped it was the latter because the former would be an issue, his disinterest the polar opposite of what she was trying to achieve.

She upped her game, slipping off her suit jacket so that her semi-sheer blouse came into play and giving Aiden her best angle while focusing her gaze on Blake.

‘A mommy’s girl then?’

Bah, she laughed at his suggestion. ‘No. I wouldn’t say I’m a mummy’s girl. I love her. She’s an incredible woman to have gone through all she has and raise me to be the wonderful person I am, but a mummy’s girl, no siree. We’re nothing alike.’

Unless you counted how they looked, their movie fetish and blasted PMDD. And she wasn’t about to talk about that.

She sipped her prosecco and Blake’s eyes dipped to her chest. So swift she could have imagined it. Only she hadn’t. But what about Aiden…?

‘What’s she like?’ Blake pressed.

‘My mother?’ Astrid glanced at his brother to see if he was as invested in her as Blake.

He gave her a smile – was that gentle encouragement, a dose of sympathy for the grilling, or something else?

‘She’s an old romantic,’ Astrid said, looking back at Blake. ‘A free spirit too. She gives love as freely as breathing and doesn’t think the rules apply to her.’

‘The rules?’

‘The generally accepted social norms. What you should and shouldn’t say, how to dress, how to be. She’s quite… unique.’

‘Good for her.’

‘My grandparents wouldn’t agree. As Lord and Lady Ashford?—’

‘Lord and Lady Ashford?’ Blake cocked a brow.