“Oh. Umm… It was just … It’s nothing.” Her cheeks flamed and her gaze skittered away.
“Evie, this is us. Right?”
“Yes.”
“You clearly don’t need me to model for you after all.”
She tried to snatch the book back from him, but he tossed it on the other side of the bed and caught her in his arms. Maneuvering carefully, he pinned her to the bed, her hands held above her head with one of his hands, the other on her stomach. There was no way she should be embarrassed by the picture, but the flush on her cheeks had given her away.
“Repeat after me, Evie Morgan. ‘I am a fantastic artist, and there is nothing I should be embarrassed to show Brennan O’Reilly.”
“It’s not… It’s just a doodle.”
Brennan shook his head. “Repeat what I said, please.”
“I am a fantastic artist.”
“And.”
“And there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
Close enough. He released her hands, settled onto the bed next to her, and tugged up the covers. Pulling her back into his arms, he asked, “So, why were you? It’s amazing.”
“It’s just my journal. I’ve never been great at putting my thoughts into words in a diary, but… I just…”
Brennan grinned. “So, you were thinking about us. When did you draw that?”
She tucked her head into his shoulder. “Last night.” It was muffled, but he heard.
He gently nudged her head up and smiled. “It’s beautiful, and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to have it framed and hung on my wall.” He knew exactly where he wanted it to go.
Her eyes widened. “But you don’t have anything hanging on them.”
“I think that’s something I should change.” After less than a day in Evie’s home, his sterile and minimalist apartment was no longer as appealing. Though it might have more to do with the occupant than the décor. Either way, a change was in order. “But if you don’t want to, I understand.”
“I could do a better one.”
Brennan pressed his lips to hers. “I don’t need a better one. It’s perfect. As are you.”
She smiled. “I’ll think about it. Now, I believe you were going to show me … or remind me… about something.”
CHAPTER 10
The feelof Evie’s hand in his was equal parts strange yet just plain home. It was right. It was perfect. His siblings’ gazes jumped straight to that point of connection when Brennan and Evie had entered the room for the delayed wedding rehearsal. He studied the group closely as he and Evie moved towards the four other O’Reilly males. Two with rich brown hair and two with dark blond, but the oh so similar, satisfied smirks said so much, all but confirming his suspicions. Given the results, he couldn’t complain.
“Enjoying yourselves, boys?” he asked.
Emmett grinned, a familiar mischievous twinkle in his brown eyes Brennan hadn’t seen in a while. “Not as much as you, apparently.”
A chuckle went through the rest of them.
“True.” Brennan’s gaze settled on Corbin. Blond hair and blue eyes just like their mother—but a much cheekier personality. “You, I assume, are responsible for the photo Rowan sent.” Given Corbin was the most technologically savvy of them all, he was the logical choice.
“What photo?”
The words might sound innocent, but Corbin had the worst poker face of them all. A raised eyebrow and a little patience was all it took to have him crumble. There was something to be said about the experience of being the eldest child to know his siblings well.
“Fine. It was me,” Corbin admitted. “But it was Lacey’s idea.”
