Page 17 of Dating His Brother

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he replied with a tip of his glass.

“Not surprised. Relieved,” Richard offered with a smug sort of tone to his voice.

There was obviously some kind of unspoken tension between the brothers that surpassed me and Dawson already being acquainted. That part didn’t seem to bother Richard at all, as if hell would have to freeze over before his brother could ever pose as a threat to him when it came to me. I wished I was as certain as he was.

“Well, we hate to drink and run,” Richard continued, wrapping his arm around me. A flame sparked in Dawson’s eyes. “But we have dinner reservations. We better get going. Are you ready?” He looked down at me with a warm smile that would have felt like butter melting on toast, but with Dawson’s eyes burning into us—it made me squirm.

“Of course,” I said, tilting my chin up to hide how bothered I was.

“See ya around, brother.” Richard patted Dawson’s shoulder before hooking his arm in mine to lead me out the door.

As we left, I couldn’t resist one quick glance back at Dawson over my shoulder. Any pleasure he got from the encounter was long gone. Now he watched us leave with a twisted, sickened expression—like a wounded, resentful dog getting left out in the rain.

“Fancy you two knowing each other,” Richard smirked as he opened the door to his car, waiting for us at the curb just outside. “It’s a small world after all.”

“This city is funny like that,” I shrugged. “It seems so big and full of people, but our circles seem to be small. It’s the same old people over and over again.”

“You seem disenchanted,” he chuckled as he slid onto the backseat beside me. “But I don’t know that I’d count Dawson as being a part ofourcircles.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

He shook his head. “Nevermind. It’s complicated. Forget I said anything.”

I was terribly curious and wanted to press him, but the car pulled up in front of the restaurant and before I could say another word—Richard was helping me out onto the sidewalk.

Richard seemed to be trying to impress me with his choice of restaurant—a five star gourmet joint that was as exclusive as it was expensive. He still didn’t seem to get it. I wasn’t one of the princesses he was used to dating who could be easily dazzled by him spending a small fortune on them in one night. I had my own money and was accustomed to fine dining for three meals a day.

Nonetheless, I tried to be polite and coddle his ego a little—feigning being wowed. It was easy to do considering how handsome he looked over the candlelit dinner.

“So, tell me more about you,” I forced myself to say, wondering how many times I had uttered those words since being launched into this ridiculous dating world. Then I blurted something completely unnecessary. “What about your family?”

I froze with wide eyes, but quickly shook it off—hoping he wouldn’t notice. It wasn’t an unusual question to ask on a first date. I was just surprised by my own unquenchable thirst to know more about his brother. I couldn’t convince myself that wasn’t the real reason behind me asking.

“Well, you’ve already met one part of it,” he told me. “Dawson is the classic middle child—always desperate for attention. And we have one older sister who is just like our mother. In fact, you remind me a little of her.”

“Oh really?” I sipped my wine. “What do you mean Dawson is always desperate for attention?”

His features drooped with a strange expression—disappointment, maybe. “He’s always going to extremes to separate himself from us. He’s a weird bird. Always wanting everyone’s love and approval, but he seems to think pushing his whole family away is how to get it.”

“I see,” I nodded, but truthfully—I didn’t see. The only thing that was clear were long built up resentments towards Dawson.

Richard returned the question, asking about my own family. I tried to give him a quick rundown of what our parents were like before they died, followed by an explanation of Jack and what our relationship was like. I couldn’t tell if I sounded as bored as I felt, but I kept fading in and out of focus as I talked.

“You okay?” Richard asked suddenly, jolting me from some deep daze I had drifted into.

I caught myself staring aimlessly around the room, unable to pay attention to any one thing longer than a second or two. That regretfully included Richard and our conversation.

“I’m fine,” I insisted, shaking my head—trying to snap out of it. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired. Maybe we should…”

“Go somewhere more lively,” he suggested, cutting me off before I could recommend we call it a night. “There’s a marvelous tasting room upstairs from here. How about dessert and wine? This dim lighting and soft music is putting me to sleep too.”

Before I could answer, he held out his arm to lead me upstairs to the separate entrance for the tasting room. It was a standing-style room for mingling, high top tables scattered all around. The neon blue lighting was somewhat more jarring than the downstairs atmosphere, which was good for waking me up. The peppy jazz playing in the background helped as well.

Richard led me to one of the tables in the middle of the room and took my coat to drape it over the railing before ordering some things from the waiter. Both then and at dinner, he ordered for me without bothering to ask what I wanted. That was typical with men like him.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he commented, making me realize I had spaced out yet again. I looked over to find him staring at me with a hungry spark in his eyes.

“Thank you,” I smirked, only to fade out again.

---