Lark almost bobbled the broom.
“Your what?”
“Shane. My big brother.”
“You want to put your brother upstairs? Why not at your mom’s?” Then she narrowed her eyes. “Is he alive? Because I draw the line at storing dead bodies.”
“Of course he’s alive.” Sara laughed, starting to help with the cleanup by grabbing a bag out of the trash can. “I dropped him at Sam’s for a beer.”
Lark glanced out the window toward the corner sports bar with a mild sort of curiosity. Over the past year or so, she’d met all of Sara’s family except the secret brother. This should be interesting.
“He flew in for my birthday,” Sara continued as she emptied the rest of the trash cans. “Isn’t that sweet? But I want to surprise my mom, so I need a place for him to stay until Tuesday.”
“Is this your brother’s first visit since I moved here?”
“Yeah. He’s, um, super busy with work and stuff.”
Lark could hear the tension in her friend’s voice. It took a second before she remembered that there were problems between Sara’s mom and her brother. What those problems were, Sara had never said.
But apparently it was enough to keep the talkative woman quiet, since Sara had only mentioned her brother a couple of times. From her description, he was a cross between a philosopher, a Greek god, Einstein and a Boy Scout with a degree in psychology. What she didn’t know was what he actually did for a living.
Whenever she asked, Sara sidestepped, shrugged or sighed. Which was probably the issue their mom had. Maybe they were ashamed of his job. Lark frowned, trying to think of a job worth being ashamed of. But all she could come up with was male stripper.
Hmm...
“How long is your brother visiting?” Lark asked, grinning a little as she imagined Sara’s reaction if she asked if her brother danced in a G-string. She’d better keep it to herself, though. Otherwise Heather would have him dancing in the corner while she hawked penis-shaped brownies.
“He said he’s only staying for a few days, but I’m hoping it’ll be a week.” Sara’s shrug echoed her pouty tone as she piled the trash bags by the door to the backroom.
“He has to get back to work?” Maybe he was a headliner at one of those fancy strip clubs.
“Yeah, something like that,” Sara said. As if she were eager to avoid answering questions, the pretty blonde grabbed the tray of dirty mugs and carried them into the back.
As much to finish her chores as to tease Sara about her brother’s stripping career, Lark followed.
The back room was so small it barely held the two of them and the dirty mugs. The purple walls were stenciled with her mom’s favorite motivational quotes, like, Do It With Happiness, the floor-to-ceiling shelves were filled with supplies and the sink and industrial dishwasher were tucked under the window overlooking the stairs to the apartment above.
On one shelf was a picture of Raine, her arms wrapped around Lark and a wide smile on her face. Lark would never admit it to anyone, but sometimes when she was alone back here, she talked to the picture. Thankfully, it never talked back.
“So,” Lark said, loading the mugs into the dishwasher, “you never told me what your brother does for a living. Or is it top secret?”
One of the ceramic mugs slipped out of Sara’s hand, plopping in the sinkful of watery bubbles. The blonde squealed, Lark cringed and the mug floated to the surface without a crack.
“Whew, sorry about that,” Sara said, handing over the mug.
Wincing, Lark carefully placed the delicate cup in the dishwasher. Maybe she should give teasing Sara about her brother a rest. At least until the other woman wasn’t handling her mugs.
“Um, yeah. Shane’s job is sorta top secret, actually,” Sara said, her voice carrying a fake edge. “He’s not supposed to talk about it, so maybe do me a favor? Don’t ask him while he’s here. He’d feel awkward, and it kinda upsets our mom.”
Wow. He really must be a stripper.
Or worse.
Before Lark could figure out what a mother would consider worse than a stripper, the chimes on the door tinkled.
Sara let out another loud squeal, tossed the sponge at Lark and ran out of the back room. Figuring it was the stripper—no, no the brother, she corrected—Lark took her time finishing up before heading out to meet Shane and decide if he had the body to justify her stripping theory.
Oh my.
He was gorgeous.
Wasn’t he gorgeous?
She thought so, but the room had taken a nice, slow spin, which she was sure accounted for the sudden dizziness filling her head and the odd tightness in her belly. Resting her hand on the door frame, Lark blinked a couple of times so she could see him more clearly.
And oh boy, was she glad she did.
Because she’d been right. He was gorgeous. Sara hadn’t exaggerated—he definitely had a little Greek god in there somewhere.
Tall, close to a foot over her own five-four, he had a swimmer’s build. Broad shoulders, a slender waist and long, long legs. The kind of body that would look mighty sweet naked but for a gleaming coat of oil.
His dark brown hair was cut supershort, the top spiked in a way that looked as if he’d run his hands through its thickness while it was wet and left it at that. Unlike Sara’s round sweetness, her brother’s face was narrow, with slashing brows and a full mouth.
Oh, that mouth. Those lips. Mmm. Lark wet her lips while imagining doing the same to his. She was pretty sure she could spend hours nibbling on that bottom lip of his and still not be satisfied.
She’d bet if he were doing the nibbling, her satisfaction would be guaranteed. She didn’t know if it was all the talk of sex today, or if he was simply the most desirable man she’d ever seen in her life. Either or both got credit for the images flooding her mind.
The two of them, naked. Oh yeah, she’d bet he was even better naked. Long, lean and luscious, he’d know what to do with his body. Better yet, he’d know what to do with hers. She’d bet he could do things she’d only read about in those sexy romance novels.
“Lark, hey,” Sara said in a bouncy tone, her arm hooked through her brother’s as she pulled him across the room. “I am so excited. I finally get to introduce you to my favorite person in the whole world.”
Lark hurried over to the checkout counter, hoping it’d be enough to prevent her from jumping him while his little sister was in the room. Jumping a guy before they were actually introduced was just rude.
And, she remembered as her stomach sank into her toes—taking a good chunk of her happy lust with it—jumping friends’ brothers was against the rules.
Dammit.
