“I’m wrapping up a couple of things.” Kenan cocked his head and studied Achilles through shrewd eyes that belied his smirk. “But unlike you, Jan, I don’t make a habit of burning the midnight oil. What gives?”
“Jan?” Yeah, he was stalling, but still... What the hell?
“Y’know, Jan. Middle child.Brady Bunch.‘Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!’” he chanted in an impressive falsetto. “You exhibit classic middle-child syndrome.” He returned to his normal voice with a wide grin. Holding up a hand, he ticked off each point with a finger. “Unsocial behavior. I mean, instead of choosing an office on the executive floor with Cain and me, you purposefully chose to be down here in the basement in a closet.”
“It’s not the basement,” Achilles muttered.
Ignoring him, Kenan continued, “Trust issues. In spite of Cain trying to include you in Farrell business and showing you he’s trying to make an effort to build a relationship with us, you’re as cold as a hundred years of winter.” When Achilles arched an eyebrow at hisNarniareference, Kenan scowled. “What? I read. And third, and the one that will possibly get me thrown out of here on my really great ass, but I’m going to say it anyway...”
Kenan leaned forward, planting his elbows on his thighs, his gaze losing all hint of humor and trapping Achilles behind his desk. In this moment, Achilles sympathized with a butterfly mounted on a corkboard.
“You don’t want to get too close to Cain and me. Hell, you probably have your plane ticket already bought for the one-year anniversary of the reading of the will when you can return to Washington. But whether you admit it to yourself or not, you want us as brothers. You’re just afraid we won’t want you back. Which is bullshit. Because we’re not Barron. Or...” Kenan’s mouth hardened, locking away whatever else he would’ve said, but the flint in his eyes remained. “Like I said, we’re not Barron.”
Achilles stared at him, stunned. And if he could move, then maybe he would’ve kicked Kenan out of his office as he’d predicted.
His brother’s words echoed through him, pounding inside his head like hammers. He longed to lash out at Kenan, order him to mind his own business. To stay out of his. That DNA didn’t give him the right to go digging around in his psyche or play armchair psychologist. Or better yet, to tell Kenan he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about. Not about the office. Not about trusting him or Cain. And damn sure not about wanting their love or brotherhood.
Achilles was doing them a favor by staying. Wasn’t that enough? What more did Kenan want from him? It was all he had to give. All he was willing to give.
All he could afford to give, goddammit.
His breath roared in his head. It lifted and dropped in his chest.
Slowly, he straightened fingers that he hadn’t even realized had curled into tight fists. And second by second, he deliberately relaxed his body. Only then did he dare to meet Kenan’s steady gaze. He expected challenge or even smug satisfaction to be in that Farrell blue-gray gaze. Instead, a disarming and disquieting compassion greeted him.
Part of him would’ve preferred the smug satisfaction.
“I think somewhere in California, Dr. Phil is sighing in relief that his job is safe.”
The corner of Kenan’s mouth quirked, and he shrugged a shoulder. “He better keep an eye on that wife of his, though. Robin’s hot.” Standing, he stretched. “I’m about to head out. What about you? Are you going to be here much longer?”
Saying yes would only invite more unwanted analysis so he shook his head. “No, I’m going to shut it down in a few minutes.”
“In that case, join me for dinner.”
Well, shit. He’d walked right into that one.
As if reading his mind, Kenan grinned. “You would be doing me a favor. My parents called and nagged me about not coming home in forever. With you there, they wouldn’t dare air dirty laundry in front of a guest. It simply isn’t done.” Something flashed in his eyes, there and gone before Achilles could decipher it, but the grin remained. “Say you’ll be my beard.”
“As tempting as that sounds—” A buzz echoed in the room, and Achilles glanced down, noting the flashing red light on the company IT help line. Looked like someone else was working late, too.
Kenan snorted. “Huh. Saved by the bell. Literally. If only I had that excuse.” He gave Achilles a mock salute. “Talk to you later, Jan.”
Kenan strode out of the office with a chuckle. Glaring after him, Achilles picked up the phone and jabbed the blinking button.
“IT.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I hoped someone was still there.”
Oh.Fuck.
He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. God hated him. Had to. Otherwise, why wouldthatvoice stroke his ear?
“Hello?” Mycah asked. “Are you still there?”
Lowering his arm, Achilles gripped the receiver tighter. “Yes, Mycah. I’m still here.”
Her soft gasp echoed across their connection. “Achilles?”
