Page 18 of Phillip

He grinned. She was one heart-stopping consequence. Phillip dropped to the couch and grabbed a magazine. Within a second, he tossed it aside, too impatient for her arrival to read.

Brock returned, giving Phillip a quick, questioning look. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. What’s it look like I’m doing?”

“Like you’re doing nothing.” Brock sucked his cheeks in and continued to study Phillip.

“Then you’re right.”As always.But Phillip kept that part to himself.

“But with a dopey grin.”

Phillip shrugged, trying the magazine again, and again casting it aside.

“Why do you look like that?” Brock pressed.

Phillip turned his palms up. “I hate to break it to you, Brother, but this is how I look.”Just like you.They’d both been graced with their mother’s dark eyes and hair.

“Huh… I’m going to run over to the Wharf,” Brock said, mentioning the tourist-friendly shops. “Thought I’d grab a little something for Bitsy.”

Slightly territorial regarding anything that stemmed from their morning, Phillip cocked his head. “Is that an invitation?”

“No.”

“Good. I didn’t want to go.”

“It was an FYI,” Brock added.

Phillip snorted. “FYI, I’m not your babysitter.”

Brock shook his head. “Thank God you’re no one’s babysitter. The kid might not live through the day.”

Phillip ignored the jab, throwing his own to his always Blackthorne-branded brother. “Be sure to find a gift with a barrel and thistle on it.”

Brock smirked. “You’re going to sit on your ass all day?”

“Versus what? Losing control of another golf cart? Creating headaches for the family?”

“You know what I meant.”

Phillip straightened the pile of magazines on the coffee table. “Don’t worry about me. I have my work for today cut out. Not all of us can fix things with gifts and schmoozing.”

Brock snorted. “Funny.”

“And true.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Meet with Ashley. She’s on her way here now. We’re going to hammer it out.”

His brother’s face froze. “Why?”

“Man, I can’t win with you.” Phillip straightened. “Do something. Don’t do something. Which is it?”

“Why here?”

“Why not?” Phillip challenged, knowing he didn’t have a good answer to the obvious question. Why was he bringing her over, alone?

Brock took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

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