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‘Where would the fun be in that?’ he muttered, heading to the bar. ‘What will it be? Wine, prosecco, champagne… a beer with me?’

She wet her lips. Jesus , don’t look. ‘I’ll have a white wine, please.’

He set about making the drinks while she wandered deeper into their domain, the masculine monochrome setting off her feminine appeal… and those come-fuck-me boots. Brutal.

‘Shit.’ Chilled wine spilled over the glass as he overfilled it.

‘All okay over there?’

‘Absolutely,’ he said, flicking the droplets off his hand behind his back. Nothing to see here. Hell, his brother was right, he did have it bad. All for the good in her.

Those caring eyes jazzed up to the nines, the compassion mixed up in the seductive sizzle… Maybe she meant it. Maybe she truly did care. And it was the possibility of her caring that was steadily undoing him. That and the green-eyed monster.

Not the boots.

Though he liked them. A lot.

* * *

So this was the lion’s den?

She set her bag down on the luxurious leather sofa and drifted up to the panoramic glass. Astrid thought her uncle’s place was impressive, but this… her gut took a wobble, and she palmed the glass, not trusting her toes in these heels when her knees were knocking.

From here, even Central Park looked small.

A tiny rectangle bordered by the bustling city all around.

The Hudson River on one side, Harlem on the other.

People impossible to make out this high up but their mark in every structure, every flickering light…

and how inconsequential it made her feel. A tiny fleck in the world’s canvas.

‘Impressive, isn’t it?’

She jumped as he came up beside her.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He handed over her wine and she took it, careful to keep her fingers to herself. And careful not to look too closely at him either. She’d already seen enough. Black was definitely Blake’s colour. Even if it was no colour at all.

‘I was thinking how small it makes you feel, how insignificant…’

He gave a bemused laugh. ‘We chose it for the total opposite.’

‘How so?’

He pocketed his free hand, rolling his shoulders back as he turned to face the glass with her. ‘The second we stepped into this living space our eyes were drawn to Manhattan sprawling out beneath us. It was like that moment in Titanic , when DiCaprio?—’

‘Wait! You’ve watched Titanic ?’

‘We’ve watched a lot of movies with our mother over the years, don’t judge me.’

Oh my God, the idea of it. Blake with his mum. Popcorn. Tears. Stop the imagery, stop the feelings, just stop, Astrid.

But how could she when everything this man did had her going all gooey on the inside? And he kept surprising her, again and again.

‘I’m not. Or I am. But it’s all good. Believe me.’

He huffed into his beer. ‘If I showed you a photo of our home back in Ashbury, you’d understand. To have come from that to this… we signed the lease that very first visit and have lived here ever since. Three years and counting…’

His voice trailed away. He wasn’t boasting, he was comparing his old life to his new one. But there was something in his tone… A bittersweet twang, a dissatisfaction, a want?

‘Do you still feel the same about the place?’

He shrugged. ‘Driving aside, it’s convenient. It works for us. No complaints.’

‘It’s home?’

‘What is home?’ He sent her a guarded look. ‘Fucked if I know. Hungry?’

He gestured to the dining table where Aiden was serving up and she knew he was calling an end to the topic. She might have pressed further if it weren’t for the timely reminder of the man she had dressed to get…

Karma-mode, engage!

Then her eyes dipped to the steaming plates of pasta and bugged out. ‘Woah, that’s some portion.’

‘Welcome to the life of a hockey player,’ Aiden said.

‘You’re the ones playing! I’m going to have to run the long loop of the park to work this off and then some.’

‘Entirely unnecessary, though don’t feel pressured into eating it all.’

She wouldn’t – couldn’t – but… ‘It smells delicious.’

‘It’s simple but satisfying. The right kind of carb, heavy on the protein with the chicken, and you get a good dose of vitamins from the greens too.’

‘Amazing,’ she said, taking a seat and scooping some salad onto her plate, setting her dazzles on the right twin. ‘I’m guessing you like to cook?’

‘I like knowing what goes into my food…’ He caught her eye, a very subtle blush marring his cheekbones and she knew he was remembering spice-gate. As was she, preening in her teeny-tiny victory. ‘So you could say it’s a passion born of necessity.’

‘My bro is also a bit of a control freak, if you hadn’t figured that out already.’

Her eyes snapped to Blake’s. Was that a light tease or a full-on jibe?

But Aiden was grinning. ‘Too right I am, and I’m happy to own it.’

Blake’s smile twisted. ‘Oh to be so comfortable in one’s own skin…’

‘You’re not?’ she couldn’t help blurting.

‘I’m working on it,’ he replied.

‘We’re all working on it, bro,’ Aiden said carefully, lowering his fork. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’

‘Some of us are closer to it than others.’ He raised his beer to his brother. ‘And this meal is damn near perfect too. Thanks, buddy.’

‘No problem.’

But Aiden was on edge now, his posture, his eyes… She glanced between the brothers.

‘Something not to your liking, Astrid?’ Aiden asked and she wanted to say this , whatever this was between them. But what did she know about siblings and rivalry and what was normal.

And she shouldn’t care.

Tonight she had come for one thing and one thing only…

‘Not at all, this really is delicious.’ She filled her mouth, gave an appreciative hum. ‘You’re a good cook. I’m surprised you have the time to spend in the kitchen, what with all the hockey.’

‘I make time. Between our mom and me, all our meals for the week are portioned out and labelled up. It helps us to keep on track and ensure a healthy diet around our schedule.’

‘That’s impressive; I barely know what I’m going to eat from one meal to the next let alone day to day. Does it ever get boring?’

‘Does it taste boring?’

‘No.’ She smiled. ‘Not at all.’

‘There you go then.’ He grinned back. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ And then his eyes dipped. Was that… was he checking her out?

She bloody hoped so! She leaned in. ‘Would you say you’re quite regimented in your routine?’

He pulled his eyes up and leaned back, sipped his water. ‘We make time for fun, don’t we, Blake?’

‘Always.’

She looked at the man himself but he was too busy locked in some silent exchange with his brother.

‘Some of us more than most.’

Was that another dig? It sure felt like one, especially with that brooding look in his eye.

Aiden cleared his throat. ‘Why don’t you tell us what got you into journalism, Astrid?’

And now Aiden was using her to get the focus off him.

‘Was it something you always wanted to do?’

‘Err, yeah, I guess it was.’ She glanced between the brothers but they only had eyes for her now.

Two sets of blazing blues. Intent and… ohmigod .

She grabbed her wine, took a soothing chug.

‘I was always a big reader and I love people. They fascinate me. What motivates them, how they feel, how they behave…’

Much like you two are fascinating me right now…

‘I don’t know whether to be flattered or scared,’ Aiden murmured.

‘Flattered, definitely flattered,’ she reassured him with a smile she hoped would lure him back in.

‘Who’s the most interesting person you’ve met?’ Aiden asked.

‘Aside from us, of course,’ Blake added.

‘Easy. Kate Middleton,’ she told Aiden. ‘But I’m biased. She’s British. She’s classy. She’s everything I would love to portray and never could, not with these feet…’

‘Why would you want to do that?’

It was Blake who asked, forcing her to address him. ‘Have you seen the woman?’

‘I have and I’m looking at you right now, and I know who I’d choose.’

Her heart hit her tonsils, her eyes hot with the heat of his.

‘Now you’re just trying to sweeten me up when there really is no need. The article is shaping up nicely. Everyone who knows you both talks very highly of you.’

‘Speaking of everyone who knows us,’ Aiden said, pulling her focus back to him – thank heavens. ‘We wondered whether you’d like to join us one Sunday for a roast at Mom’s.’

Her mouth fell open. ‘But I thought you said?—’

‘I said I didn’t want you interviewing her, but she’s a big part of our life, and we see no harm in you spending time with us all together. What she chooses to tell you is up to her. How does that sound?’

‘I can’t remember the last time I had a Sunday dinner… do people still do that?’

‘We do when we’re not playing and it’s always with Mom. What do you say, you up for it?’

‘Yes!’ she blurted, head and heart racing. Because yes, it would be great to have that insight for the article. ‘Thank you!’

But being invited into their mum’s home, seeing the twins with their beloved mom… you’d have to be an ice queen not to melt!

And she couldn’t afford to. Not for karma, and not for Blake.