“I don’t know.”
I hop off the sofa and make my way to the door. “Who is it?”
“It’s Sienna and Walker.”
I unlatch the door and pop it open. “Hey. How are you guys?”
Sienna makes a face. “You sound better today.”
I grin, letting the door swing wide open. I know the exact moment Sienna’s eyes rest on Holt because they flip immediately to mine.
“What is this?” she squeals.
Walker fills the doorway with his wide shoulders and linebacker body. “Who the fuck is that?”
I swat my brother’s chest. “Be nice.”
I step to the side so they can come in, keeping my eyes trained on Walker. The door shuts softly behind them.
Sienna nearly bounces with excitement as she takes in Holt’s arm wrapped around my waist. My brother, on the other hand, isn’t quite as excited. As a matter of fact, he looks pissed.
I gulp.
“Holt, this is my brother Walker, and of course, you know Sienna. Walker, this is Holt Mason,” I say.
Holt extends a hand. Walker lets it hang there for a long second before shaking it.
I roll my eyes.
“I heard that you struck a deal with Graham and Lincoln today,” Sienna says. “Congratulations!”
Holt half-laughs. “My family struck a deal with them, yes. I can’t take credit for it all. Sadly.”
They go into some of the details, but I tune them out. Not because I’m disinterested but because it’s hard to concentrate with Holt by my side … and Walker scowling at him in front of me.
Sienna laces her fingers through my brother’s and peers up at him. She has to see the look on his face because she pokes him with her finger.
“Are you okay over there?” she asks him.
He doesn’t look at her. He just keeps pinning Holt to the wall with his stare.
“Walker, stop,” I warn.
“So you’re the guy who Blaire was staying with in Savannah, right?” Walker asks, raising a brow at Holt.
Holt nods. “Yeah. She stayed with me for a few days.”
“And you made her cry.”
“Walker …” I say. It’s more of a plea than a demand because no one tells Walker Gibson what to do. “Please don’t.”
Holt’s fingers curl into my waist. “I’m a big enough man to admit that I wasn’t on my best behavior. I did say and do some things that I wish, in retrospect, I hadn’t done. But I never set out to make Blaire cry.”
“But you did,” Walker says.
“Enough,” I hiss. “I’m a big girl.”
He looks down at me. He reminds me so much of my father that it’s scary.
