The roller stopped, and I knew he’d put two and two together. On account of his job, my brother was extremely detail-oriented. And on top of that, he was a brilliant listener, even when you thought he wasn’t.
“Ayres,” he said.
“Yes.”
Finn let out a low whistle, and I dropped the roller into the paint tray, deciding it was time for a break. Finn repeated themotions, collapsing onto the floor beside me with his legs crossed and his fingers drumming steadily against the tops of his knees.
“The son.”
“Yes,” I said again.
“Smith’s age?”
I sighed and nodded.
“You never struck me as the type to like them young,” he said. It was almost a tease, but the truth in it was too sharp for either of us to pretend.
“He’s notyoung. He’s just younger than me.”
“Smith is young.”
“He was young when he came to us,” I corrected. “He’s his own man now, and you know it. Just because you still see him as a baby?—”
“Don’t you?”
“Of course I do,” I said, shrugging helplessly. “But Smith and Silas are not the same person.”
“No, I imagine they’re not.” Finn tipped his head to the side, puckering his lips in thought. “Do you want to tell me how you ended up on a not-date with the son of your biggest business rival?”
“I’d hardly call Stanley a rival. He’s not competition for me.”
Finn chortled. “He’s giving you a run for it with the Cahuenga Pass project.”
“That’s only because Silas is getting bits and pieces of his own ideas into the design,” I said. “Stanley on his own is as dated as your house.”
“I should be offended, but I know you don’t mean it.”
“Don’t I?”
My brother laughed at me, then pushed to his feet, surveying the painting we’d gotten done already. “Let’s take a break. Have a drink and we’ll get through the rest after.”
“This is going to need two coats.”
“Hunter is on deck tomorrow, don’t worry.” Finn held out his hand to help me up, and I took it. He was surprisingly strong, hauling me to my feet with ease and giving me a quick slap on the back for good measure. We went into the kitchen where he pulled two beers out of the fridge, cracking them both open and pushing one across the counter toward my waiting hand.
“Now that we’re free of the fumes, you can tell me how you ended up in bed with this Silas kid.”
“He’s not a kid.”
“You know what I mean,” Finn volleyed.
“You know whatImean.”
He let out a very tired-sounding breath. “How did you end up in bed with this Silasman?”
I wanted to tell him it was an accident, but that would have been a gross misstatement. Everything with Silas had been well thought out and calculated, down to the way I fucked him and for how long. I’d orchestrated this, and there was no way around it. The problem was my brother and I talked about a lot of things, and I was sure he had his suspicions about me—and I about him—but we’d managed to never actually discuss our preferences in the bedroom.
“I met him at a bar,” I said. “He was about to get taken advantage of, and I stepped in.”
