wasn’t alone in this madness.
“I’m good...thanks,” Tate said as if she were battling to find her words.
Linc checked on the levels in the wineglasses across the room before twisting the cap off his beer bottle and taking a long sip. He was thirsty, hungry and tired but, mostly, he was horny. He’d ditch the beer and the food in a heartbeat if he could kiss that sexy spot where Tate’s neck met her jawline...
“Have you made any progress finding out who is buying up Ballantyne stock?” Jaeger asked him, leaning his butt against the counter.
Linc, pulling his mind from the bedroom, shook his head. “No, not yet. But I will.”
“As a family we own controlling shares, and as long as we stick together, we are safe from a hostile takeover, so I don’t seen the point of anyone buying up big blocks of stock. Combined, we own sixty percent of the company, but this company, Lach-Ty, now owns five percent. Worrying,” Beck stated, picking up his beer.
Worrying about Ballantyne International was his job, as was protecting his family. But he’d done a crap job so far in regard to finding out who was behind the purchases of the shares. He had a company name, Lach-Ty, but little else. He loathed operating in the dark and decided to ask Reame to look into the situation. His pal had the skills, or employed people with the skills, to dig up the information he needed.
Linc placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll get to the bottom of it, Beck. It’ll be okay, I promise.”
“As long as we stand together,” Beck replied, his tone giving away his concern.
“We always do. We always will,” Jaeger told him, and Linc flashed him a grateful smile.
Jaeger nodded briefly. He glanced at the oven and bellowed, “Who is hungry?”
“Me!” Shaw shouted, waving the icing bag around. Linc saw splatters of radioactive green land on Tate’s chin and chest. Reacting quickly, he reached across the counter and grabbed the bag from Shaw. “Easy, Shaw.” He grinned at the streak of green in Tate’s hair, the spots on her cheek. “Tate now looks like a spaceman.”
Instead of rushing off to the bathroom in a panic to clean up, in order to look perfect, Tate dragged her finger across her chin and popped the icing she gathered into her mouth. Her gaze met Linc’s, and his knees buckled at the lust and laughter in her eyes.
“At least I taste good,” she murmured.
That he could vouch for...
“Well,” Jaeger drawled, his eyes bouncing between them, “I have a feeling that dinner is going to be quick, and that big bro is going to be kicking us out of here as soon as we are done eating.”
Linc didn’t drop his eyes from Tate’s.
“Damn straight,” he muttered as Tate blushed. “Feel free to leave now. You can even take the lasagna with you.”
* * *
Tate, feeling sticky and a little headachy from tension and anticipation, piped a pale yellow swirl onto a vanilla cupcake and reached for a premade bumblebee, carefully placing the little bee at an angle. Nine cupcakes down, three to go. Looking around the relatively clean kitchen, she couldn’t help but smile. She’d been surprised, and grateful, when the Ballantyne brothers had cleaned up the mess they, and Shaw, had made in their effort to create their spacemen cupcakes. The dishwasher was loaded, the counters wiped down, the ingredients put away. Sage had even stayed to help her mix up four colored bowls of icing and had even offered to help decorate the next batch of cupcakes.
But Tate knew that Sage still had hours of work ahead of her, so she’d gently refused her help. Besides, she wanted to be alone with Linc. Well, as alone as they could get with two kids in the house. She just needed to get these last few cakes decorated, and she could take a shower and rid herself of her grimy jeans and sticky T-shirt. And then, God willing and children cooperating, Linc would blow her mind...
And, hopefully other parts of her body, as well.
Tate’s head snapped up when she heard Linc’s footsteps and sucked in her breath as he walked across the room to her. He stopped just behind her, slid his strong arms around her waist and laid his chin on her shoulder. “How many more to go?”
Tate tipped her head back to rest it against his collarbone, inhaling his masculine cologne and the underlying scent that was all Linc. “Three. It’ll go quick, if I’m not distracted.”
Linc nuzzled her temple before standing up straight. He dropped his arms and moved to stand next to her, his hip pushing into the counter. “What can I do to hurry this process along? I mean...to help?”
Tate lifted her eyebrows, trying not to laugh. “Are you any better at icing than your brothers and son?”
Linc smiled. “Not really.” He gestured to her pretty cupcakes, a complete contrast to the other messy ones. “Yours look fantastic. Are you going to fix the spacemen?”
Tate shook her head. “I’m not going to do a thing.”
“They aren’t exactly of ChildTime standards,” Linc said, and Tate heard the doubt in his voice.
“Screw the standard,” Tate cheerfully told him. “Shaw made them, he loves them, that’s all that matters. Besides, they are bright and sugary. The kids will inhale them.”
Linc pushed his fingers into his short hair. “You’re right. What Shaw thinks is all that’s important.” He walked over to the cupboard, pulled down two tumblers and a bottle of really expensive whiskey. Linc placed a half-full glass close to her, and she murmured her thanks.
“How was the photo shoot?” Tate asked, trying to think of something to talk about to keep both their minds off the smoking hot sex they were about to have.
She also needed a distraction from the realization that she’d loved everything about this evening, had so relished feeling like an integral part of a family, like she was needed and important. Normally, she would’ve avoided anything that smacked of Harriet Homemaker and run at the first hint of domesticity, but she’d thoroughly enjoyed herself. She even—dare she think it?—wanted more.
You’re losing your mind, Harper. You’re just overexcited because you’re about to get laid, and your brain is working overtime.
Get a grip.
“Long,” Linc replied, boosting himself up to sit on the counter next to her work space. God, how was she supposed to concentrate on her swirls when his long, muscled thigh was a few inches from her hand, when she could see his tanned flesh through the rips in his jeans?
Tate noticed the unusual ring on his middle finger. “Jaeger had Kashmir sapphires. Beck, red beryl. Sage, red diamonds, but I don’t recognize your stone.”
“Alexandrite.” Linc pulled the ring off his finger and held it between his thumb and forefinger. He turned it, and in the red depths Tate caught a flash of green, then yellow, maybe a hint of orange. It was stunningly beautiful.
“Emerald by day, ruby by night,” Linc explained. “It changes color depending on the light source.”
“I’ve never seen you
