Own the Wind (Chaos, #1)(47)

This got me another eye flash and a low, kind of rumbly, “I’d never do that, Tabby.”

“Good,” I returned. “Then I think we both know where the other stands.”

“What the f*ck are you two talkin’ about?”

Shy’s voice was also low and rumbly.

Not good.

“Park—” Landon started but didn’t continue when Shy, coffee mugs in each hand, shifted to the side of Lan’s chair and turned angry eyes down at his brother.

“Do we gotta go outside and talk?” he asked.

Uh-oh.

I stood as did Landon and, not unusually, my mouth got there first.

“Everything’s cool, darlin’.”

Shy turned his eyes to me. “Not from what I heard.”

“Take two seconds,” I began, “put yourself in Landon’s shoes, think of meeting the woman who held a grudge against your brother for years and then you hear she lost a fiancé and when you show up and see they’re suddenly and inexplicably tight… what would you do?”

Shy set the mugs on the coffee table and turned to his brother.

“What I would do is have a care about the loss she had even if it isn’t still fresh and understand my brother isn’t a f*ckin’ moron.”

Uh-oh!

“Shy—” I began, but Landon got there before me.

“Park, I don’t think you’re a moron, but I do think you know where I’m coming from.”

Shy’s arm snaked out, his fingers curling around the side of my neck and I found myself flying toward him, my front landing hard against the side of his body. His hand moved so his arm could curve tight around my shoulders, his other hand crossed his body so his fingers could curl into my waist and through all this, his gaze didn’t leave his brother.

“Look at me, what do you see?” he growled and when Landon didn’t answer, he repeated his demand, “What do you see?”

Oh God.

I didn’t know whether to feel elated because I knew what Shy thought Landon would see or terrified because I didn’t want a bust-up to happen in Fortnum’s bookstore, not with that crazy guy behind the counter. He’d side with Landon and Shy would be outnumbered.

My eyes shifted to Landon to see him taking us in then they moved to Shy’s face.

“I see it, Park,” he said softly.

“Fuckin’ brilliant, Lan,” Shy bit off. “Now, you get this. Do not”—he leaned us toward his brother—“ever blindside my woman like that. I’ll let this one go ’cause I’m happy as f*ck you’re home. It happens again, I won’t let it go. Are you with me?”

“I didn’t take any offense, Shy, honestly,” I told him quickly, hoping to defuse his anger, even as I felt the warm protectiveness of his words settling straight into my soul.

His eyes sliced down to me. “Well I did.”

Message clear.

“Righty ho, biker boss,” I muttered quickly and Shy’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t be f*ckin’ cute and, honest to God, if you lick your lip, I’ll lose my mind. Next time you lick your lip you do it when we are nowhere near a public place and I can let loose the reaction I’ve had half a million f*ckin’ times over four f*ckin’ years every time I’ve seen you do it, not here, in a bookstore where I can’t.”

Regardless of the tense situation, that gave me a tingle and an even warmer feeling settling in my soul, but I fought the urge to lick my lip (which was precisely what I was going to do) and I just stared at him.

He stared at my mouth then his gaze went to my eyes then he looked back at his brother.

So did I and I saw him smiling.

“I’m not findin’ anything worth smilin’ about,” Shy warned.

“Sorry, Park, but, gotta admit, I’m smilin’ so I don’t laugh my ass off, since if I did that, I’m gettin’ the sense you’d take a swing at me.”

“I’m not findin’ anything worth laughin’ about either,” Shy stated.

“That’s because you can’t see you two. Seriously, Park, I gotta say it. You’re totally f*ckin’ cute together.”

I pressed my lips together in another effort not to lick my lip, pretty sure Shy would never want to be described as cute ever.

I was wrong.

“No shit? You just noticed that? Jesus, Lan,” Shy replied.

“No. Noticed it at your house but was more focused on your girl bein’ cute, hot, and in a sheet. Since she’s fully clothed now, it’s comin’ through more.”

This, again, was what I considered not a good response from Landon Cage, seeing as I didn’t suspect Shy would like it made clear his brother thought I was cute and hot and got distracted by me being in a sheet, and this time I was right.

“Are you shitting me?” Shy ground out.

“Can we drink coffee?” I jumped in. “I need caffeine. Then I need food. Then I need to make a few calls so I can figure out if I’ve got a home and a job. Watching you two badasses go head to head, albeit hot, is not helping me sort out my life. So if you’d get a move on from this, I’d appreciate it.”

Shy’s eyes quickly came down to me and I noted immediately his expression had changed from anger to soothing.