Or at least lust.
That moment in my office when we called a truce, when I held her hand in mine, the soft touch of her skin sent something skittering down my spine. Something warm and enticing. Something I shouldn’t be feeling.
She’s the one woman I shouldnotwant.
But man, do I want her.
“Come on, Max. You’re taking forever! We’ve all got to practice, you know,” Amelia complains as she leans against a post, watching me.
“I think he’s got something on his mind,” Sofia says.
“More like someone,” Amelia quips.
I lower my bow and arrow and turn to glare at my sisters, both of whom are looking rather pleased with themselves.
“You two jabbering away isn’t helping me take this shot,” I complain.
“Oh, of course. It’s totally us who are putting you off and not the pretty journalist staying down the hall,” Amelia replies. “Isn’t that right, Sofe? Fabiana Fontaine’s presence here has got nothing to do with Max being off his stride this morning.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re totally right, Ami,” Sofia replies.
I shoot them both a look. That’s the thing with sisters.They’re always up in my business, commenting from the sidelines.
“She’s nicer than I expected,” Amelia says.
“When did you talk to her?” Sofia asks.
“I met her in the garden yesterday afternoon. She was chasing a certain someone.” My sister shoots me a meaningful look. “Fabiana’s got the most amazing green eyes, did you know?”
As if I’m not tortured by those eyes.
“Although I haven’t loved what she’s written about us over the years, she seemed nice,” Amelia adds.
“You would say that. You like everyone,” I grumble.
“That’s not true,” she replies, indignant.
I lean on my bow, looking at my sister. “Name one person you don’t like, Ami.”
She chews on her lip, her brows pulled together.
“See?” I return my attention to the target.
“Greg Smith! I don’t like Greg Smith,” she exclaims.
“Who?” I ask.
“The one who duped Ami into thinking she was falling for him when all he wanted was her money. You’re well within your rights not to like him, Ami,” Sofia says.
“I might not like him, but really, if it weren’t for Greg Smith, I would never have met my husband,” Amelia says with satisfaction. “Now, are you going to shoot that arrow, Max? I need to go and stare at my baby while he sleeps some more.”
Since getting married almost five years ago now, Amelia and Ethan have been busy making babies, just like Alex and Maddie and Sofia and Marco. I’ve become an uncle several times over, thanks to these loved-up couples, and I low-key relish my role as fun unclein their lives.
“Go watch your baby sleep, Ami. I might be able to concentrate better if you’re elsewhere,” I say.
“I don’t need to be told twice. Catch you both on the flip-side,” Amelia says before she walks away.
“All right, you. No excuses now. I expect nothing less than a bullseye,” Sofia instructs.
