Free Bidding on Brooks: The Winslow Brothers #1 by Katy Regnery

friends.”
    “Well, that’s all we are.” Were.
    “That sucks for you,” lamented Christopher, “because she’s stunning.”
    Tell me about it.
    “Wait a second. The boyfriend doesn’t mind that you two are about to go away for a weeklong cruise? All alone?”
    Brooks sighed, pulling Christopher’s drink out of his hand and throwing it back before handing the empty glass back to his brother. He figured he needed it more than Chris.
    The truth? Brooks wasn’t sure.
    He and Pat had been sailing out of the Chesapeake Cruising Club together for the past few years, and though he didn’t know Pat very well personally, they’d crewed together a time or two, which meant they’d also shared the odd beer in the club bar. Pat was a solid sailor, but he was always talking about himself. Brooks knew all about Pat’s ex-wife, his plans to circumnavigate, his boats, his life… he was the sort of guy who monopolized the conversation for twenty minutes, then excused himself when someone else started telling a story of their own. That said, Brooks didn’t have a problem with Pat, per se, he just wasn’t one of Brooks’ favorite people either.
    And frankly, Christopher’s question led to a good point. Presumably Pat knew what Skye had going on under her overalls—a thought that made a totally irrational bolt of jealousy clench Brooks’ stomach—so it didn’t make a lot of sense that he’d leave her for almost two years while he circumnavigated alone. Hell, if Pat had had misgivings about Skye being pursued during his absence, he should have considered bringing her with him. Come to think of it, Brooks thought, his forehead creasing, hadn’t he heard that Skye was supposed to join Pat on his trip? Hmmm. He wondered what had happened. One thing was salient, however: Pat didn’t know the jewel he had in his hands, or he did and didn’t care. Either way, he was a damn fool for leaving her behind.
    “Earth to Brooks.”
    “Uh, yeah. I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s bothered. I guess not. I’m sure she mentioned it to him.”
    “Huh. Some boyfriend. It would bother the crap out of me to know that my girlfriend was going away for a week with you…and I’m your brother. I actually trust you.”
    Brooks gave Christopher a cocky smirk. “Even though I’m definitely better in bed than you are, small fry.”
    Christopher rolled his eyes, passing his empty glass from one hand to another thoughtfully, refusing to rise to the bait. “And yet you haven’t had a girlfriend in years to verify that claim.”
    “Who hasn’t had a girlfriend in years?” asked Preston, sauntering out onto the porch and gesturing to Brooks with his thumb. “This sad sack?”
    Brooks glared at Preston, who followed Brooks in birth order and was probably his closest friend.
    “Speak for yourself, lonely hearts,” said Brooks with an annoyed smirk. “Just because I don’t have a girlfriend doesn’t mean I don’t see action.”
    Preston scoffed, then deadpanned sarcastically, “Yeah. Some action. Westerly’s a regular revolving door.”
    “Just because I don’t bring women to Westerly doesn’t mean—”
    “Maybe they’re all skanks.”
    “You have a lot of room to talk, Pres. When’s the last time you had a steady girlfriend?” asked Chris, pegging Preston with a dubious look.
    Preston’s eyes flicked to Brooks, his usual relaxed posture stiffening just a touch. For years, Brooks had assumed that Preston’s reluctance to fall in love had something to do with their father’s early death, but just recently Brooks had learned the truth about why Preston was so non-committal when it came to women. That said, he’d stumbled across the information accidentally, and had sworn to keep Preston’s secret.
    “Pres likes playing the field,” Brooks said evasively, coming to his rescue.
    “Women are a lot of work,” muttered Preston, his shoulders relaxing as he gave his older brother a grateful nod.
    “Truth,” said