Free Knave of Broken Hearts by Tara Lain Page A

story.
    The elevator door opened and the man himself stepped off in all his blue-collar glory—tall, though not as tall as Ken, shaggy hair that looked like someone had streaked his light brown with blond, brilliant green eyes that crinkled when he laughed, and hard muscles everywhere from all that delicious hammer swinging. Jim was walking next to a very pretty young guy.
    Jim looked over at him and stopped in his tracks. His Adam’s apple bounced, and then he painted on a smile and walked toward Ken with the cute guy beside him. “Hey, hi. Hope I’m not late.” He stuck out his hand and Ken took it, feeling the calluses all the way down his own arm. Ken eyed the boy. Jim held on a second too long, then pulled his hand back. “Dr. Tanaka, this is my kid brother, Ian.”
    Brother. Feeling relieved was so damned stupid he wanted to kick his own ass, but he felt the smile spreading. “Hi, Ian. I’m Ken.”
    Jim nodded. “Uh, yeah, Ken.”
    Ken really looked at Ian. “I see the family resemblance.” His light-haired prettiness strongly resembled Jim, minus a broken nose, work-hardened body, and general air of—what?—ennui, disappointment. No, actually Jim’s blanket of world-weariness covered a spring flower of hope. That was one of the things Ken liked about him. One of them. “Can you join us for lunch, Ian?”
    The kid shook his head. “Wish I could, but I’ve got a bunch of Mexican food to clear off plates.” He grinned. “It’s my job. Take good care of my brother, though.”
    Jim held up a hand. “I’ve gotta do a quick check-in with my guys, then I’m all yours.” He stopped, blushed, looked at his shoes. “I’ll be ready in a second.” He turned and ran toward the plastic entrance to the suite.
    Ken watched the muscles in Jim’s powerful back flex as he moved away. Damn. Beautiful.
    “You like my brother.”
    It wasn’t a question. “I don’t know him at all. We just met yesterday. But yes, he seems like a good guy.”
    “You know he’s straight, right?”
    Ken frowned. “I assumed so.”
    “But maybe you wish he wasn’t?”
    Ken turned and looked Ian in the eye. “Do you imagine I have to sit around pining over straight men I can’t have?”
    That obviously threw the cocky kid off a bit. He glanced away and his cheeks turned pink. “No.”
    “So assume my intentions are honorable. I’m helping your brother find an architect. End of story.”
    “Okay. I believe you.”
    If only I did.
    “Thanks for helping him out. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
    Ken nodded. “I’ll look forward to it.” He shook Ian’s offered hand, then watched him sprint to the lobby doors and exit into the sunny afternoon.
    Voices floated over from the entrance to the suite, and Ken looked up as Jim walked back through the plastic sheeting with an attractive woman clinging to his arm. The building owner, Constance Murch. Jim stopped and smiled down at her while she batted her eyelashes. Ken could hear her say something about “looking forward to tomorrow.”
    Suddenly his head felt hot and light. He stared at Constance. At reality. Just like Ian said. Had he gotten an impression that Jim Carney was somehow available? Interested? Who the fuck was he kidding? He hadn’t been lying when he said all the good men were straight. Constance touched Jim’s cheek proprietarily, then turned on her spike heel and walked to the elevator.
    Jim hurried toward Ken with a smile. A smile that lingered from the woman’s sensual touch.
     
     
    J IM GRINNED at Ken. Hard not to smile when you looked at something that beautiful. Weird that he thought of a guy that way, but the resemblance to the yaoi character messed with his head. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I had to return a key to the building owner.”
    “Yes, she certainly has an air of ownership.” Ken raised a brow, and his pretty voice had an edge. Was he upset about waiting?
    “Uh, is your architect going to meet us?”
    “Yes, more’s the pity. But