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“I love you, Whis.”
“I lo—”
Before I could return the sentiment, the front door was being pulled open. A tall, wide man stared down at me. His frown was replaced with a slow-spreading smile… and it creeped me the hell out.
“Thank you again for setting this up, Tim. I really appreciate it.”
Oh, so this is Tim?
His looks in no way hinted at his occupation. The middle-aged man was dressed in a beige suit that perfectly framed his cashew-brown skin. He had a low-cropped curly ’fro that was shiny with a few gray pieces here and there. His eyes were piercing—scary. I wanted to look away, felt like I needed to, but it was like they had me in a trance.
“Your sister is absolutely beautiful.”
Instead of shaking Carlos’s extended hand, Tim outstretched his for mine. I looked over at Carlos, whose bobbing head urged me to shake it. I did, and I had to damn near pry it from his grip. I was already uncomfortable and ready to go home, but I trusted my brother to make sure nothing happened to me.
Tim invited us in, letting us know he’d given his staff the night off, except for the chef and waitress, so we could have some privacy.
Waitress.
The man had a damn waitress at his home.
We made our way through the foyer and down a brightly lit hallway. Carlos and Tim made small talk as I remained quiet, more interested in my surroundings than their conversation. Tim’s dining room was large and opulent. In the center of the room was a large dining table that seated twelve people. It was covered with white and cream place settings and candles. Small bouquets of flowers lined the table in between the glasses. A low-sitting chandelier dazzled, and the walls were covered with beautiful art and mirrors.
Once we were settled, the waitress, Ella, came to get our drink orders. They opted for brown liquor and water, and I asked for white wine. She gave me five options and I chose Roscato. It might have been the cheapest one she mentioned, but it was also the sweetest, and that was my preference.
I hadn’t been interested in listening to their conversation when Carlos first asked me to come, but after hearing him say Tim said he could be vitriolic, I wanted to be on alert. If at any point I felt like he was disrespecting my brother or my father’s memory, I’d shut this dinner down real quick.
About ten minutes passed before heavy steps suggested someone was heading into the room. My head shifted, eyes landing on a fine ass younger version of Tim. He had a tall, more athletic build than his father. They had the same cashew-brown skin. I couldn’t see much of his body, but I could tell that his hands, neck, and top of his chest were covered in tattoos because the first couple of buttons on his white and black striped button-down were open.
Tight, golden-brown eyes were just as hypnotic as his father’s… but they were less scary.
“You’re late,” Tim said to the younger version of himself as he stood.
“You want me to handle business, or you want me to be on time?” he asked, shaking Tim’s hand.
“I want you to do both,” Tim replied with a warm smile—a genuineness I hadn’t felt since we’d arrived.
When Carlos stood to shake his hand, I tried to mimic the gesture. Stepping in front of me, he lifted his hand, stopping my movement.
“Stay seated,” he commanded in a voice softer than the one he’d used with Tim. With my hand in his, he looked at me with those piercing golden-brown eyes, and with each passing second, I felt more and more under their spell. “Beethoven Smith, but everyone calls me Bay.”
“Hi. Whiskee.”
“I wish the circumstances were different, but it’s nice to meet you, Whiskee.”
“You as well,” I agreed, releasing his hand.
Seemed he didn’t want to be at this dinner either.
Beethoven made his way around the table, and I couldn’t stop myself from watching his every step. The black slacks on his legs had to be custom-made based on how well they fit his sculpted frame. Loafers were on his feet, giving him a casual business vibe that was sexier than I wanted to admit.
He took the seat that was directly across from me, and I hated that. It would be hard for me to keep my eyes off his handsome face. That scruffy beard, those skin-colored and heart-shaped lips… that chiseled jaw and those pointed facial features.
God.
This man was too damn fine for his own good.
Clearing my throat, I forced my gaze away and took a sip of my wine.
