The Murphy men liked to exaggerate almost as much as they liked slacking off, but Seamus was willing to bet at least half of that was true. They’d gotten the entitled part right.
“Turkish and French,” Jeremy mumbled. “God, that explains his bone structure. Keep talking.”
“He’s invited them to visit him in New York, so he must live there, and Gill’s father thinks he’s got his eye on her. He told me I might have a fight on my hands.”
It wasn’t hard to imagine Gillian finding Demir attractive. He’d seen it right away, but no man wanted to admit his competition was ten times sexier than he could ever be.
If he was competition, and the chemistry Seamus was fighting was all one-sided.
Bellamy Demir got under his skin in a way no one else ever had. He dreamt about the man, did his best to avoid running into him… He’d never felt like punching someone without cause before, but Demir’s confidence—everything about him—just bugged him to the point of violence.
And those mixed messages—giving Seamus smoldering stares one minute and then putting his hands all over Gill the next—were enough to drive him to drink. Seamus wasn’t sure he stood a chance with either of them. Not that he wanted a chance with Demir—that wasn’t on the table. But with Gill looking at Demir like he’d hung the moon, Seamus might be out of luck with her as well.
Between the three of them, he didn’t make the cut in the looks department and he knew it. He was ordinary at best. His short brown hair was cut for utility more than style. He had it done exactly the same way every month when he took his kids to the mall. The “Dad” cut, Jake had called it. Okay, so he was decently fit for a man pushing forty and had nice blue eyes like every other member of his family besides his cousin James, but that was about it.
The reason his twin was hailed as his state’s sexiest senator had more to do with his attitude than his looks as far as Seamus was concerned. That, and the fact that most of the other senators he worked with were old or looked like they’d lost a fight with a hairbrush twenty years ago and never bothered with a rematch.
Seamus wasn’t that bad, but he didn’t have the aura of power or the charm of Stephen. Seamus wasn’t anything to write home about. Or sketch impulsively in a pub in Ireland.
How did a guy like him compete with a Dark Prince?
How did he resist him?
“Earth to Seamus.” Owen snapped his fingers in front of his face. “What do you mean a fight? Are you dating this girl? Please say yes. I’ll send up the flares and we’ll start celebrating.”
“Not yet, but I’m working up to it.” Seamus smiled at his brother, trying to take his mind off Bellamy and focus on the positive. “I actually skipped a few steps and asked her to marry me today. She thinks I’m joking, but I’m not so sure. I like her.”
“Hold the phone.” Owen put his finger in his ear and wriggled it around. “Did you say you asked her to marry you?”
“You don’t approve?”
“I do. She seems fantastic.” Jeremy set down his phone-turned-sketch pad on the bar. Seamus had gotten his attention. “But four days is a little quick to start planning a wedding. Is the vacation sex turning your head? Have you two already…?”
“No, we haven’t. How could we?” Seamus waved that question away. “We’re surrounded by Murphys most of the time, and they all live under the same roof so it’s not like we’ve had a lot of opportunities for privacy. Even if we did, she’s not the kind of woman that jumps into bed with men she hardly knows.”
“But she’d marry one? And by the way, every woman is that kind of woman if she wants you badly enough.” Owen was staring at him like he’d grown another head. “You really haven’t had sex with her? At all? No make out session in a closet? No under the table action or orgasms on either side? How are you walking without a limp right now? Are your balls permanently blue or what?”
“Owen.” He really didn’t want to talk about this.
“Don’t use your Dad voice, it doesn’t work on me. And I’m sorry, but the nineteen-fifties called and even those prudish sons of bitches say you should be sharing her bed instead of a milkshake at the drive-in. How can you know you want to marry her when you don’t even know if there’s chemistry?”
Jeremy dug his elbow hard into Owen’s side. “Excuse your brother, Seamus, he’s oversexed and used to instant gratification in all things. But there’s nothing wrong with being a gentleman.” He looked at Owen and spoke loud and slow. “Gentleman. That means you open her car door and ask about her day before you unzip and demand a blow job.”