“What’s going on?” Another man, this one looking like a happier version of Duane, stepped into the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Duane and Jethro said in unison.
The new redhead walked around Icicle Eyes—who was still glaring at me—and stepped forward. “Holy moly, I know you. You’re Sienna Diaz!”
I smiled at the newcomer, obviously the other Winston twin, and shook his hand. “Yes. You must be Beau.”
His wide grin reminded me of Jethro’s, as did his open manner. Although, his charm was more like an excited puppy than Jethro’s brand of self-possessed manly magnetism. Regardless, he was cute and friendly. I immediately returned his smile.
“I can’t believe I’m meeting you. Whoa. Look at those dimples. You should have a license for those.”
This made me laugh and Jethro grumble, his hand sliding to my hip in a blatantly possessive movement. I wrapped my arm around his waist and allowed myself to enjoy his closeness.
Allow me to take a moment to express my appreciation for Cletus Winston and his entrances.
Beau’s eyes moved between Jethro and me, his grin waning. “Wait a minute. Are you two . . .?” He stopped himself.
“Yes,” Cletus, my new favorite person, answered the unfinished question. “Our brother Jethro has finally done right by the family and involved himself with this fine woman.”
Jethro shifted uncomfortably, but made no move to release me. “We’re friends,” he said finally, his eyes flickering to mine, then away. “Good friends.”
“Friends?” Beau’s tone was edged with happy relief. “So you wouldn’t mind if—”
“I would mind, and you can go make the salad while I show Sienna around.” Jethro then turned us away from where his brothers were gathered, mumbling, “Sorry,” as he led me out of the kitchen and out of the house.
“Don’t apologize,” I whispered, my lips close to his neck. I squeezed his waist and ignored the way my heart galloped in my chest. Because, honestly? I was pretty much taking this opportunity to feel him up.
Don’t judge me. You would do it, too.
His stomach was rock hard and his arm felt strong and steady. He held me so close his beard brushed my temple and upper cheek, the texture sending spikes of loveliness everywhere. And he smelled good. Intoxicatingly. Good.
“That’s the carriage house.” He pointed at the half-restored building I’d spotted before entering the house. “I’ve gutted the inside. The roof is new as is most of the siding. I’ll have it done in two months.”
“You’re remodeling it yourself?”
He didn’t stop for me to take a closer look, instead keeping our pace quick as we walked through the wildflower field I’d been admiring earlier. We were in their backyard, which was immense and backed on to a forest thick with trees. I quickly inspected the wooded area, deciding it would do nicely for privacy. I wanted to talk to him, just talk. I hoped he’d give me a chance to make a pitch for Jethro + Sienna, the sequel.
“Yes. I just started last month since I’m mostly finished with the big house.”
“What did you do to the big house?”
“I refinished the porch in April. Before that I stripped all the original wood moldings, the banister, and cornices, replaced all the windows. The kitchen is new, new granite and cabinets, but I’m waiting on installing the new appliances until this summer. I haven’t updated the bathrooms yet or painted the inside. I want to test out my skills on the carriage house first before I rip up the tile inside the main house and piss everyone off. Plus, I’m not much of a decorator, so I need Ashley—that’s my sister—to help me pick colors and finishings. She and Jess chose the exterior paint. Duane and Beau had the big house painted in one week. I ordered enough so the carriage house will match.”
“Wow. That sounds like a lot of work.”
He shrugged, not looking at me but continuing to hold me close to his side. “To be honest, I enjoy it. The carpentry and refinishing parts especially. It’s been neglected for so long, I like making the old place new again.”
We fell into a contemplative silence even though our steps were hurried. I surmised he wasn’t walking fast on purpose but rather hadn’t yet realized how quickly we were moving. We were almost at the edge of the field when I sensed he was about to turn us back to the house. Not wanting to return yet, I stiffened my arm, slowing our pace, and subtly steering us toward the forest.
Now was the time for my pitch. I was far too impatient to wait until after dinner. Better to know as soon as possible whether he’d definitely friend-zoned me. I was more adept at hiding disappointment than I was at hiding hope.