“Fuck this,” Vaughn said and shouldered past him.
Reece let him go. There would be no reasoning with him while he was like this. So instead, he turned his attention to the more rational twin, who had sank into one of the office chairs and looked utterly defeated.
“He considered not pulling the cord,” Cam said softly and then gave a humorless snort of laughter. “Did he really think I wouldn’t realize it? We’re identical. I know how he thinks, and he’s spiraling. I just…” He looked down at his empty hands. “I don’t know how to fix it.”
And Cam, usually the family’s peacemaker, the glue, hated not being able to fix things. Especially when it came to his twin, who had always been just a little bit broken.
Reece walked over and pulled himself up to sit on the desk beside his brother. “The only way to fix it is to find Lark Warren.”
Cam shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“Neither do I, but this all started when she disappeared. He’s not going to stop until he settles whatever it was that happened between them.”
Another shake of the head. “I can’t do this now. Not tonight. Is Eva still next door?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t make it inside.”
Cam pushed out of the chair, and they walked to the door together. “Shelby’s done good work with the place. She has a talent for it.”
Reece smiled to himself as he stopped to shut off the light and lock up. “I know.” And he couldn’t be prouder of everything she’d accomplished in only a few weeks. His woman had vision and a good head for business. He still felt like an ass for doubting her.
Next door, Shelby had turned up the music, and Taylor Swift was telling everyone to shake it off. She danced circles around her sister with a broom, trying her damnedest to convince Eva to join her.
Some of the tension eased out of Cam’s shoulders as he crossed to his wife. “C’mon, Shelby. You know your sister doesn’t dance. Stop torturing her with pop music.”
“Fine.” Shelby spun over to Reece, pecked him on the lips, then grabbed his hand. “I’ll dance with my husband.”
The music changed to something with a strong, fast beat and he fell into easy rhythm with her, hands on her hips.
Cam’s jaw hit the floor. “Since when do you dance?”
He spun her. “You think I can be married to her and not dance?”
“Ah…” Cam held up a finger, but dropped it again after a second. “Good point. Look at you. You inherited Mom’s rhythm.”
He drew Shelby in close again and kissed the tip of her nose. She laughed, weaved her fingers into his hair—which was no longer blue, thank God—and drew him down for a real kiss, the kind of kiss he’d wanted but had held off on because of Cam and Eva.
“Ugh,” Eva said. “Stop it, you two. I’m okay—mostly—with the whole marriage thing. Not so much with the public displays of affection.”
Shelby broke the kiss, but only by inches. “Maybe you should leave then, because I want to do a whole lot more to him than just kiss.” She grabbed his ass with both hands, and his body lit up like a flare.
Eva groaned. “Oh God. My eyes.” She cupped one hand around her eyes like blinders and used the other to tug a laughing Cam toward the door. “We’re leaving. Just…don’t do anything more until we’re gone.”
Shelby snorted as she watched them go. “Eva can be such a prude sometimes.”
“Aw, give her a break.” He tugged on her ponytail. “You’re her little sister. Honestly, I get it. The thought of my little brothers having sex weirds me out.”
“Because you’re a prude too.”
He traced his fingers along the curve of her breast. “A prude wouldn’t do the things we did last night. And he certainly wouldn’t take you back to your office and tongue fuck you until you scream his name.”
“Hmm, Mr. Wilde. You’re getting an awful dirty mouth.”
“Maybe you should punish me for it, Mrs. Wilde.”
“I’m thinking I should.” She smoothed her hands over his open collar. “You know, I kind of miss your ties.”
Grinning, Reece reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a length of silk.
“Well, then.” She dragged the tie from his fingers with a slow, sensual tug. “I believe we have unfinished business in my office. We were interrupted last time.”
He watched her walk toward the back, swinging the tie and giving her hips a little extra sway with each step. He hardened, but didn’t immediately follow and instead glanced around.
The Bean Gallery was all color and light, with deep-cushioned couches and chairs, a place where people would want to come to unwind, relax. It had Shelby written all over it, with little bits of him scattered throughout since he’d drawn and painted most of the tabletops for her.