Page 22 of Handsome
The furniture was back in place.
Warren then said, “It’s for my motorcycle. You must be Sarah.”
“I am.” I nodded at him.
Warren stopped near the entryway, and said, “Mamansays you're nice. Are you nice enough to let me see my nephew?”
Ahh, so his family had already discussed me.
My heart thundered, but I didn’t ask.
Cyrus broke the tense moment by saying, “He’s sleeping. Let’s get a tea. When he’s up, he’s up.”
Good. I nodded and gazed at Cyrus’s profile. He wasn’t just handsome, but he was stable. Plus, my body became alive when he glanced at me.
Warren stood and said, “I can leave you two alone.”
Cyrus's cheeks reddened, though I wasn’t sure why, but he said, “Stay. I insist.”
“I agree,” I added.
Warren shrugged and joined us on a couch as he said, “Insist? Well, then I have no choice.”
I took the chair next to Cyrus, so the brothers were sharing the couch.
Cyrus glanced at me.
Warren pointed and asked, “Did my brother wink?”
“So?” Cyrus asked, and swung toward his brother.
The staff brought us all tea, but Warren didn’t notice when someone offered him a plate as he said, “He’s been unhappy for a while. It’s nice to see him smiling.”
I took the tea, smiled, and thanked the server, who seriously could have been me in another life. Then I asked, “He was unhappy because of my sister?”
Warren gulped the hot tea. Then he said, “Not all of us. He’s been like me in the past year, mulling over life choices.”
He’d not said a word, but whatever he did, he’d be serious about it.
Cyrus then gently slapped his brother’s arm and said, “Warren's telling you about how he’s thinking of quitting his job and traveling the world.”
Warren’s lips thinned. “That’s not what I want. I want to prove to myself that I’m worthy.”
Cyrus raised his eyebrow, gulped his hot tea fast and then said, “Of what? InheritingPedar’smoney?”
My drink needed more time to cool before I could use it as an excuse to pretend I wasn't listening.
Fortunately, the baby monitor wailed at just that moment. I jumped and so did Cyrus. Warren tapped his leg and followed us as he said, “We must sound like spoiled brats. Time to meet my nephew.”
I squeezed Cyrus’s arm and said, “I’ll get the bottle and meet you two in Joshua's room.”
He nodded and I rushed to the kitchen.
A few bottles were already made, and more of the bottle brand I’d bought in addition to the breast milk were now in the fridge, ready for us. I grabbed one and ran after the men.
As I made it up the stairs, I realized Joshua wasn’t crying while Cyrus held him.
His brother said, “Sarah’s pretty. Are you interested?”
