I blink at him in surprise. “Oh. Thank you.”
“I didn’t know. I thought…” He trails off. We both know what he thought and why he thought it.
“I know. It’s okay, Landon. Really.”
We watch the ocean for a bit longer before the temperature dips. I shiver, wrapping my arms around my body.
“Ready to go?” Landon asks. “You look cold.” I have to hide my surprise that he remarked on something like that. Maybe he’s more observant than I think he is.
“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s go.”
I notice he stays on the dry part of the sand, and when a wave crashes against the shore with more force than the others, he backs up a few steps to avoid it. It’s kind of funny, actually, until his eyes shift down to my wet calves. “If you track sand into my car, you’re vacuuming it out.”
I sigh, shaking my head, and free my feet of their sand traps. “Honestly, I’d expect nothing less from you, Landon.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“Whoa. What’s with the tux?” I ask, pausing in the doorway to the kitchen. Landon’s leaning against the counter, a glass of bourbon in his hand, and unfortunately, it’s hard not to stare. Okay, it’simpossiblenot to stare.
Because Landon in a tux is…unfair.
And it’s not just me. Ask any woman with two eyes; ovaries; and an affinity for tall, dark, and handsome men, and she’ll tell you the same thing—that there’s no reason a man with that body and those cheekbones, a man who’s already hit the genetic jackpot, should be wearinganythingother than cargo shorts, flip flops, and a t-shirt.
But a tuxedo? Game. Over.
It’s hard to overlook the impeccable tailoring of the black jacket over his broad shoulders or the way the dark pants hug his long, lean legs. It’s hard not to stare at his thick hair, which falls in a soft wave over his forehead, or the black dress shoes that tie the whole look together.
And suddenly, I don’t know what to do with my hands or my eyes or my legs. My mouth dries up and my tongue gets heavy and I force myself to focus on anyone-anything-anyplace other thanhim. It’s a normal reaction to a guy who looks likethat.At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“He’s going to agala,” says Eli, and my gaze swings gratefully toward the blonde. He’s in his usual seat at the island, shoveling food down his throat because when is Eli ever not eating? Though, to be fair, ithasbeen a while since he’s raided the fridge, too preoccupied with the girl he’s dating—the girl he refuses to tell me anything about for fear of “jinxing” it. “Mom and Dad’s annual asshole extravaganza.”
My eyebrows raise, and I chance a glance at Landon. Maybe if I squint, I won’t lose my train of thought. “Seriously?” I ask in a level tone. “I’m surprised you’re subjecting yourself to that.”
Landon shoots Eli a look. “Some of us have familial obligations to uphold. Plus, it’s for the children’s hospital. All thoseassholesare helping sick kids.”
“Well, you’d never know it by how stuffy it is,” says Eli with a shrug. “At least Junior will be there. He’s always coked out at these things. Maybe you can bump a line in the bathroom. Brotherly bonding, and all.”
“I don’tdococaine,” Landon snaps.
“You don’t say,” Eli says dryly, and I snicker at the thought of Landon doing hard drugs. He’s way too uptight for that.
Taking the seat next to Eli, I fold my legs up under me and lean my forearms on the table. “So how much does a table at this gala thing cost, anyway?”
“You don’t want to know,” Landon warns.
“Thirty, at least,” adds Eli. “Maybe fifty.”
“Thousand?” I ask in disbelief.
“Itisfor charity,” says Landon, though his tone makes it seem like he also finds the whole thing ridiculous.
“Speaking of charity,” says Eli, “who’s the lucky woman accompanying the newly single Landon Blair this evening, and how much are you paying her to do so?”
Landon glares at his brother. “I don’t have a date. Paying women for services is your specialty.”
My gaze shifts between the two as a hollow ache forms in my chest. The next words out of my mouth are far less calm-cool-collected than I wish them to be. “Why does he need a date?”
Eli snorts. “A date would shield against the inevitable flock of single women sure to swoop in the moment he enters the ballroom.”
