behind the door and shrugged out of his jacket, a slow grin slid across Bodey’s lips.
“Who is she?” he asked bluntly.
Shit
.
Jace scowled at his brother, pretending to misunderstand. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Bodey leaned back, crossing his arms and regarding Jace with narrowed eyes.
“The only time I hear you whistle is when you’ve met someone who piques your interest.”
Jace opened the refrigerator door and pretended to search inside. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
Even though he wasn’t all that hungry, he grabbed an apple from the crisper and straightened, busying himself with the drawer that held the knives.
“The fact that you won’t look me in the eye is answer enough. Who is she?”
Inwardly cursing the fact that he’d come in the back door—and that his younger brother was a pain in the ass—Jace grabbed a paring knife and slammed the drawer shut again. Leaning a hip against the counter, he began to carefully remove the bright green peel. “Like I said: I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I spent some time helping Annie’s relatives, then I spent five hours drilling angle field. Had to stop at the lower east corner because of the mud.”
But Bodey wasn’t listening. “Who’s visiting Annie? A woman?”
Jace sighed, the apple peel beginning to form a spiral strip. He did his best to remain bored and pissy, but Bodey’s prodding was having the opposite effect. Hell, if it weren’t for the complications caused by her children, Bronte Cupacek would be Bodey’s type—beautiful and sweet, and with legs up to her armpits.
“You’re being an ass. Bronte is probably only here for the summer.”
“Oooo.
Bron-tay,”
Bodey responded in a singsong voice. “So you’re already on a first-name basis, huh?”
Jace might be approaching thirty-two, but there were times when Bodey could punch his buttons to the point where he felt thirteen and his instinctual response was to pound his younger brother into the ground. Growing up, Elam had been the calm one, the leader, the voice of authority among the boys. Bodey, on the other hand, liked to stir things up—and he generally hadn’t been happy unless he’d started a fight. Since Elam would rarely take the bait, Jace was Bodey’s favorite target.
But tonight, Jace refused to supply any further ammo. The last thing he wanted was for Bodey to head over to Annie’s and find out for himself how perfectly Bronte fit into his dating criteria.
The rush of possessiveness that flooded through Jace was as surprising as it was inexplicable. If there was anyone on earth with an emotional NO TRESPASSING sign firmly in place, it was Bronte Cupacek.
“She’s married,” he said bluntly. That seemed to shut Bodey up for a few seconds, so he added, “And she has kids. One of ’em is a teenager.”
Bam!
The gleam in Bodey’s eye disappeared. Bodey liked the ladies, there was no denying that. But he had enough sense to stick to women who were in a love-’em-and-leave-’em frame of mind. No single mothers, no emotional baggage.
“So how’s Annie?”
And that quickly Bodey dropped his Super Asshole persona, and returned his attention to his laptop.
Jace couldn’t account for the flood of relief he felt in knowing that Bodey wouldn’t be rushing to Annie’s house in the morning to check out the new visitors. The last thing Jace needed was for Bodey to be his usual charming, larger-than-life self.
Although why it should matter, he couldn’t bring himself to say. Bronte
was
most likely married. And she
did
have children. So Jace had no right feeling anything at all for her other than mild curiosity. It was absolutely no business of his why she’d come to Utah. If he found himself wondering how early he could head over there in the morning, it was only because he wanted to make sure that her car was still working and her family was settling in—
“Jace!”
“Hmm?” He looked up