His dark eyes narrow at me, and there’s a half-scowl on his lips. I’d recognize that brooding look anywhere.
Ethan’s brother eyes me suspiciously.
“Is Ethan about?”
“No,” I say slowly. If it was any stranger at the door, I would leave it at that, but it’s Ethan’s brother. Surely he knows Ethan’s away.
“He’s in Barbados.”
The brother’s eyes widen, making me wonder if they still talk to each other.
“Barbados,” he says, surprised. “Is he back for Christmas?”
“No.”
“Damn. I just rode over fifteen hundred miles to spend Christmas with my big brother.”
“I guess you should’ve called first.” I fold my arms across my chest because I’ve just noticed the tote bag he’s got slung over his shoulder and I don’t like where this is going.
The brother’s eyes rake down my chest and hips, lazily going over my body and making me shift uncomfortably as heat pools in my belly.
I’m not used to being looked at like that. I spend a lot of time hoping people don’t notice me, dying my hair black and putting on dark makeup, making myself unapproachable. But I didn’t think I’d be seeing anyone today. My face is bare, and I’m wearing sweatpants. It’s uncomfortable without my armor on.
“Soo, Ethan’s not here, and I’ve got work to do…”
I start to close the door, and the brother wedges a black booted foot into the doorframe.
“Not so fast. Who are you and why are you in my brother’s apartment?”
He eyes me suspiciously, but I give zero fucks. He can go call Ethan if he wants. Although maybe as the brother of my boss he deserves an explanation.
“I’m house sitting.”
The brother nods slowly like he’s not sure he believes me. I fix him with my best go-fuck-yourself stare, but the son of a bitch doesn’t even flinch.
Instead, he holds out a hand that’s red raw from cold with what looks like mechanic grease under the fingernails. I guess he’s still into bikes.
“I’m Kray.”
I eye the hand but don’t offer him mine.
“I don’t bite,” he says, a smile pulling at his lips.
“But I might,” I retort.
He chuckles and his face breaks into a genuine smile. Damn, he’s hot. Which brings my defenses down a little.
“I’m Cleo.”
I shake his hand in what I hope is a formal way. His palms are callused, the rough edges nicking my soft skin and causing tendrils of heat to zing up my arm. I pull away quickly and look down, hoping he didn’t notice.
“So, Cleo, you gonna invite me in, or am I gonna stand out here in the cold all day?”
I should close the door and send him on his way, but there’s a vicious wind blowing, and those clouds look like they’re going to dump snow any minute. Besides, he’s my boss’s brother. It’s not going to look good if I close the door on him.
“Fine.” I open the door wide. “But hurry up. You’re letting the cold air in.”
4