“Blue Caldwell?”
I turned instinctively toward the sound, only for West’s arm to tighten around me like a vice.
“Miles!” I said, but couldn’t move. Miles stood in the center of the lobby with open arms, completely unaware that his big brother had latched on like a jealous octopus.
When I didn’t immediately go to hug him, Miles frowned and walked over, reaching past West’s grip to pull me into a big, warm, brotherly hug.
“I heard you were coming,” he said into my ear, “but I didn’t believe it.”
“It’s been a wild few weeks,” I replied. “Especially since you left town… Officer Brooks.”
That name earned me another squeeze from West, but Miles just laughed and winked. “Relax, big guy.”
He gave West a playful shoulder pat, then turned to greet their grandparents. Jesse and Easton emerged from the elevator a few minutes later, and judging by Jesse’s face, I’d say Easton definitely lost more than just his pants.
“All right,” Miles called out, clapping his hands. “Let’s go. Lox can’t wait to see y’all. She’s doing soundcheck now, but I promised I’d bring you back to hang out and say hi before the show.”
Outside, the cars were already waiting. Drivers stood by the open doors, ready to whisk us away. Grams and Gramps went with Miles in the first car, Easton and Jesse in the middle car, and West and I were going to take the caboose. We all started to separate when Miles turned back to our group.
“Wait!” he said loud enough for the valet, the drivers, and a few nearby guests to hear. “Is West wearing Easton’s jeans?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
WEST
I growledlow and pulled Blue into the SUV, closing the door behind us with a little more force than necessary. It wasn’t unusual for my brothers to give me shit. In fact, I was usually the first one they targeted. But something about them ragging on my outfit had me thinking about the look in Blue’s eyes when I changed in front of her. The way they flicked up and down, fast, but not subtle. Like she hadn’t meant to look, but couldn’t help it either.
Nor was she apologetic.
Meanwhile, she looked like she’d just stepped off the cover of Country Weekly with her tight jeans and a top that was technically legal but absolutely lethal. I was instantly rethinking my entire existence when she’d opened that bathroom door.
Nothing mattered. Not the rules. Not the arrangement. Not the fact that all of this was temporary. Because even with all that, Blue and I were in the middle of a dangerous gravitational pull. Which was fine as long as it was just looking and not touching. But touching was more necessary than I thought it would be.
She bounced next to me in the backseat, her whole body alive with energy. Her eyes were wide, taking in the town like she was on her first field trip.
“Have you met Loxley yet?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. I just needed something to say. Silence wasn’t safe. Silence let my brain do things I didn’t want it doing, like imagining her moaning my name.
“Not yet. She never came into Fiddlers. Miles only showed up when I needed help dealing with the Murphy brothers.”
“Have they tried to come back?” I kept my voice casual.
She shook her head, turning to face me with a smug little smile. “I think you scared them off for good.”
I nodded, but I didn’t believe it. Guys like that didn’t disappear, they regrouped. But if they ever came back, I’d already made arrangements for it to be handled. Even if I wasn’t there. Especially if I wasn’t there.
Our caravan pulled into the amphitheater, weaving past long lines of cars waiting to park. A few people honked when they saw us, and it took me a second to realize they probably thought Loxley was inside. The thought made me twitch. The spotlight that followed Miles and Loxley now was intense. Uncomfortable.
The car stopped, and we climbed out to find Miles already waving us forward. We slipped in through a back entrance and were handed VIP passes on lanyards.
“Gets you front row seats and backstage access,” Miles explained. “Or you can just hang out back here if the crowd’s too much.”
We followed him down a long hallway. Blue’s fingers brushed mine but I didn’t take her hand. I didn’t pull away either. I wanted the small contact.
“Oh my God,” I heard the gasp from ahead of us and looked up to see a woman carrying a clipboard and a headset. “Are you West Brooks?”
I didn’t answer, but I didn’t need to before she started talking again, loud and animatedly.
“I read about your project in the New York Times. I knew you were Miles’s brother, but seeing you in person? Wild. You are so much more handsome than the pictures, too.”
