“Noon.” Marcus stepped into his jeans and dragged a t-shirt over his head. “You ready to take the lead on this?”
“You know I am.” Jamie didn’t hesitate.
He’d worked on the contract with Emilio Falcone, even though Marcus almost sabotaged it before they signed. In his eyes, Lana came first, even if it meant putting his own life at risk.
Jamie shivered, the memory of his brother lying in a pool of blood crashing back into his mind, drowning everything else out.
The thought of Marcus almost slipping through his fingers still left a bitter taste in Jamie’s mouth, like a scar that wouldn’t fade.
He’d done everything he could to keep his brother alive.
Then there was Shannon. A woman who’d appeared by chance in his life, faster than he could process.
Between Marcus’s near-death drama and their father’s mental decline, he wanted to live fast and unfiltered. And Shannon Colter had become the perfect distraction.
Adjusting himself in his jeans, Jamie strolled across the room and joined Marcus on the couch.
“You know I was talking to you, right?” Marcus nudged his elbow into him. “You zoned out.”
“You must’ve been talking shit.” Jamie shot back, brushing it off. “I tuned out. Turned the volume down on your Lana monologue.”
“I wasn’t talking about her, but I bet you werethinking about a certain ball crusher,” Marcus teased, sitting back.
“So what if I was? I’m man enough to admit when I like a girl.”
“You like her... like, enough to invite her over for Christmas turkey, or just a few casual hookups?” Marcus teased, his grin wide.
Jamie paused longer than usual, his gaze drifting for a moment.
“Christmas turkey, huh?” he said, forcing a chuckle. “You think I’m that kind of guy now? Anyway, what man talks about bringing a woman home for turkey? I could understand if you said something about a nice cut of rump steak... But turkey? What the fuck?”
He shot Marcus a dramatic look of disgust.
“Anyway, maybe I would bring her to a family dinner sometime,” he muttered under his breath.
Marcus chuckled, then winced, clutching his bullet wound. Jamie’s eyes flicked to his brother’s movements, concern hidden behind his sarcasm.
“Blame Lana. It’s her fault.” Marcus nodded toward the bedroom where Lana was dressing. “She’s been talking about a family Christmas. Don’t worry, I’ll spank that idea out of her.”
Jamie shook his head and chuckled.
“Christ, Marcus. She’s practically family now. Say shit like that again and I’ll need therapy, not a cold shower.”
Marcus’s scowl was instant.
“Don’t picture her like that.” He shoved Jamie’s shoulder. “Stay in your lane.”
Jamie stretched out on the sofa. “Seriously, though, how did you know Lana was the one?”
There it was—the question that had played on his mind during the long-haul flight from Dublin.
Marcus’s brow furrowed as he stared off into space, a goofy look spreading across his face. “The second my lips touched hers. It felt like…home.”
“Right. Home,” Jamie said, rolling his eyes but not able to hide his smirk. “Shannon made me a bacon butty. It reminded me of those summer mornings when Dad made us breakfast.”
Marcus raised an eyebrow. “So, youdolike her.”
He sighed, the truth right there as plain as day. But could he admit it? Could he really say it out loud?
