Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
The tax incentives that had wooed his company to Texas extended to the entire Layne Construction family of businesses. It seemed he’d never get too far from family.
Just as Arik held out his hand to welcome Tristan, BT pushed in beside him, wrapping a fur-covered arm around his forearm, halting the handshake. Arik, only a few feet from Tristan, cut his gaze toward Steffan, who now stood pressed firmly against his side. All the indignation of moments ago had faded away as BT’s face turned passive. Not exactly happy—no BT was too sophisticated for that. Instead, he became inquisitive, maybe a little too eager to meet the good-looking men in front of him. If Arik read it right, this was either to stake his claim or try his odds at hooking himself an even wealthier man.
Arik wiggled out of the hold. They’d been working on this particular project for the last couple of years. Wilder developed state of the art software, making each hotel room an interactive experience. There had been peaks and valleys in the design process, bumping this massive project back several times as he’d opened other resorts around the world. Now they were ready to launch, show the world Wilder’s patented design, and all Tristan could do was smirk. His steel-gray eyes dancing between him and the clearly high-maintenance BT standing next to him, cuddled up in his fur coat, flipping his long dark hair over his shoulder.
Well shit. He’d teased both men mercilessly about their need to put a ring on their men, to claim them and all that lovey-dovey shit. Now he’d just given them all something to razz him about. Great!
“Why don’t you head over to the bar,” he urged Steffan while turning toward Trent and shaking his outstretched hand.
“I’m fine here,” BT purred, flashing his charming smile before turning to the group. “I’m Steffan.”
“I’m Gage. My husband, Trent. Tristan Wilder.” Gage pointed at each man in turn, happily jumping right in when it was clear he wasn’t going to make introductions. Arik did however catch the disappointment in BT’s expression when Gage introduced Trent as his husband.
“Well, Gage Synclair, I’ve become such a fan of your work. Arik has so many of your prints in his New York apartment,” Steffan said very agreeably, causing Arik to narrow his eyes at the guy. Conflicting thoughts had Arik wondering when BT might have spent enough time in his apartment to know what hung on his walls and why in the hell hadn’t Steffan ever been this nice to him?
Wait a second. Did BT actually think he had a shot with his cousin?
“Thank you. He’s always been into the arts.” The smirk never left Gage’s face as his eyes cut back to Arik.
“BT, we need a few minutes. Please wait for us in the bar.”
“Stop calling me that,” he said, rolling his eyes. He even stomped that booted foot again for good measure. Gage didn’t hide his chuckle or the mischief reflected in his gaze. The calculated hell Arik saw coming his way from his dear cousin might just be worse than any before. Arik purposefully ignored him while raising a hand, gaining the attention of the manager, who hovered close by.
“Can you take Steffan here to the bar? Get him something to drink for me? We’ll be done soon.”
“Sure. Come this way.” The manager’s swift reply brought a welcome relief.
BT was slower to respond. Arik cocked a brow, and Steffan finally did his catwalk twirl as he left them.
“I’m sorry about that,” Arik started, but his annoying cousin cut him off.
“I’m not,” Gage added with a smug grin.
“You’ve always been my least favorite cousin,” Arik stated drolly.
Gage barked out a laugh, and Arik realized there was no escaping the shit Gage planned, even with Wilder in their circle. With a deep sigh, Arik lifted his gaze to Trent who’d smartly stayed out of the banter. He liked that about Trent—he knew when to act appropriately. He’d have thought Gage might have picked up some of those helpful behaviors, but apparently not. He finally turned his gaze to Tristan who was holding back a laugh. “Not you too.”
Tristan lifted both hands in the air. “I had my fair share of them—you can count on that. So I’m not saying a word about that. You two, though”—Tristan waved a finger between Arik and Gage—“sound very much like Dylan’s oldest two children. They’re relentless with each other. I see now that it’ll never stop for them.”
“Oh no, Em and Hunter can’t spend five minutes together without going at it,” Trent chimed in, shoving his hands in his front jeans pockets.
Arik lifted a finger, circling to indicate the three of them. “This conversation proves you’re all whipped. That’s all I’m going to say about it. Now, are we ready to start this tour?”