Page 42 of Beautiful Sin
“Everything okay?” she asked, her gaze darting between me and Colt as he emerged from my room.
“Perfect,” I lied, hoping my face wasn’t as flushed as it felt. “Colt was just… being Colt.”
She didn’t look convinced but thankfully let it drop as we headed toward the dining room. I could feel Colt’s eyes on my back, that weight of his gaze like a physical touch—one that I couldn’t quite decide if I wanted to lean into or run from.
What the hell was that about? And what had he been about to say before Bree interrupted?
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Bree whispered as we approached the others.
“Later,” I promised, spotting Jaxson at the grill, looking unfairly attractive in an apron that read Kiss the Cook (agift from Sofia last Christmas that had made me choke on my eggnog). The moment our eyes met across the room, that strange warmth flared in my chest again, stronger than before. Unlike the sharp electricity of Colt’s touch, this felt like coming home. Yet somehow, the memory of Colt’s fingers against my skin lingered, a counterpoint that I couldn’t quite dismiss. “When there are fewer people and more alcohol.”
“I’m holding you to that,” she warned but mercifully dropped the subject as we rejoined the party.
Behind us, Colt entered the room, and I felt his presence like a shadow at my back. When he passed by to grab a beer, he leaned close enough that only I could hear his parting shot.
“This isn’t over, little brother.”
I suppressed another shiver—one that felt strangely like anticipation—focusing instead on Jaxson’s warm smile as he waved us over to the food.
At least the porn magazines had been forgotten. Small victories, Lan. Small victories.
Twelve
SINCLAIR BROTHERS
Henry and Sofia had just arrived, and Jaxson was playing sommelier with far more attention than wine-pouring strictly required, examining each bottle like it contained the secrets to the universe instead of just fermented grapes.
“Red or white?” he asked Henry, though his attention was elsewhere—specifically tracking the movement of a certain ethereal stepbrother who had been avoiding him all day with the dedication of a professional hide-and-seek champion.
“Red,” Henry replied, following Jaxson’s distracted gaze with knowing eyes. “Though I suspect you’d pour me motor oil if I asked for it right now. Your focus is… elsewhere.”
Jaxson forced his attention back to the wine. “Just making sure everyone’s taken care of.”
“Everyone?” Henry’s eyebrow arched meaningfully. “Or someone in particular?”
Before Jaxson could formulate a suitably cutting response, the guys from upstairs descended en masse, turning his carefully arranged dining room into cheerful chaos. Tyler and Justin immediately commandeered the couch, while Ben, Chris, and Josh made a beeline for the food table like they hadn’t eaten indays. A few minutes later, Lan appeared, with Bree linked to his arm, followed by Colt wearing that infuriating smirk of his.
The sight of Lan—cheeks flushed from whatever conversation had been happening upstairs, dark hair slightly tousled—made something primal stir in Jaxson’s chest. The boy was wearing that blue sweater that made his skin impossibly pale. The honey-cherry blossom-lily scent that was uniquely Lan drifted across the room, making Jaxson’s fingers tighten around the wine bottle. His pupils dilated instantly, his heartbeat accelerating as that sweet fragrance wrapped around him, bypassing his rational mind to trigger something deeper, more instinctual.
“Easy there,” Henry murmured, deftly rescuing the bottle before Jaxson could crack it. “That’s a thirty-dollar Merlot, not a stress ball.”
Jaxson busied himself with an unnecessarily thorough examination of wine labels, definitelynottracking Lan’s every movement across the room. Though judging by Sofia’s knowing smirk, he wasn’t being as subtle as he thought.
“You know,” she said, sidling up to him with the stealth of a panther, “there are less obvious ways to stare at someone than using wine bottles as binoculars.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jaxson replied, pouring her a glass. “I’m simply being a good host.”
“Mm-hmm,” Sofia hummed, accepting the wine. “And I’m simply going to have a friendly chat with your adorable stepbrother.” She patted his arm consolingly. “Try not to break any more bottles while I’m gone.”
When Sofia beelined for Lan with that predatory gleam in her eye, Jaxson’s internal alarm bells started ringing like a five-alarm fire. She had an uncanny talent for cornering Lan and extracting information like some sort of social CIA agent. A possessive heat spread through his chest, urging him tointervene, to keep others away from what was his. But before he could move, Henry trapped him in conversation about—of course—Sara.
“What did you do to set her off?” Henry’s eyes danced with amusement as he sipped his wine. “She’s been ranting about you being ‘unprofessional’ for three hours straight. You, Mr. Perfect Real Estate Agent.”
Jaxson fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Let me guess—I was cold, late, and generally terrible? Perhaps I also kicked her puppy and stole candy from children while I was at it?”
“Among other colorful descriptions.” Henry chuckled. “She seems particularly fixated on your ‘inappropriate attachment’ to your family. So, what’s the real story? You’re about as unprofessional as Colt is spontaneous.”
“She wanted to add ‘bedroom’ to our professional relationship,” Jaxson said dryly, watching Lan from the corner of his eye. The boy was fidgeting under Sofia’s interrogation, a blush creeping up his neck. “I declined. Apparently, rejection isn’t something she handles gracefully.”
