“Was she?” I tilt my head to the side. “Didn’t really sound like it to me.”
“Wait,” Sean breaks in, “Syd said that you’re the hot one? What the hell?”
Declan raises his cup while shaking his head. “Exactly my thoughts.”
“No, I mean I’m clearly the hot one out of you idiots.”
Connor laughs. “Yeah. Right.”
“You think you are, Duckie?” I ask with a chuckle as I call Connor by his hated nickname.
“Fuck off,” he replies.
“I’m even called Stud.”
Oh, here we go. I roll my eyes. “No one fucking calls you that except you. No one. Not a single freaking person because it doesn’t mean you’re a stud, it means you’re as dumb as a wood pole.”
He grins. “Say what you will.”
Declan breaks in. “Can we all agree that Jacob is not the hot one and leave it there?”
“Tell that to the thousands of women who formed a club in honor of my hotness.”
All three of them burst out laughing, and then Sean hands me a beer. “The fact that you think delusional people make sense is enough for us to worry.”
Just then, my favorite sister-in-law of the day exits. “Bean, will you set these dumbasses straight as to who is the sexiest of the four of us?”
Sydney sighs dramatically. “Jacob, but not by much.”
“See.”
“Seriously, wife?” Declan growls.
“Oh, calm down. I said not by much.”
“But you did say I was the hottest one, so who cares where the rest fall in,” I say smugly.
“If you did have to rate us, who would be next?” Connor’s voice rings with mischief. He’s clearly enjoying Declan’s irritation.
Sydney doesn’t hesitate. “Jacob, Declan, Sean, and then you.”
I burst out laughing, hand slapping against my chest as I see Connor’s crestfallen face.
“Really, Bean?”
“It’s the fear of ducks thing. It makes you look like a pansy.”
“I’m a fucking SEAL!”
She gives me a shit-eating grin before turning back to him. “Former. But you’re . . . not a very scary one.”
My brothers and I lose it.
She leaves, and the four of us take our seats on the porch, still chuckling as Connor mutters all sorts of angry nonsense under his breath.
The laughter dies down and Sean speaks first. “Is it normal for things to be weird once your honeymoon is over?”
I look over, knowing this wasn’t easy for him to ask. Declan speaks first. “Weird how?”
“Just . . . weird.”
Declan and Connor share a look. I’m definitely not one to speak on this shit. I’m not dating or married.
“Again, I’m going to ask how?” Declan tries again.
“She’s exhausted for one. Second, it seems as if something is bothering her.”
“You guys have been back for a week,” I say, unable to be quiet because I’m not sure I know how.
“I know that.”
“Do you? Because aren’t girls supposed to be depressed after their wedding? I swear Ellie said some shit about a post-wedding depression one time on the phone.” That was an hour-long call I can never get back. I still don’t know if she was drunk when she called me, but then she started to get upset, so I just listened.
Sure, it was my birthday, which was why I answered, but then she was going on and on about being bored and not knowing what to do with herself because the wedding was over. I kept looking down at the phone, wondering what the hell was going on or if she thought maybe I was Syd.
Connor grins, clearly knowing what call I’m referencing because, of course, I called him to let him know his wife might need psychiatric help. He laughed and said that was what we missed out on not having a sister.
He’s a real helpful bastard.
Sean shrugs. “Maybe, but she didn’t have to plan a wedding.”
“Yeah, you took that from her.”
Declan laughs. “Who knew Jacob was the authority on women?”
“Oh, you are? Please, you three don’t know your asses from your elbows. Yeah, yeah,” I cut them off before their stupid retorts can fly from their mouths, “I know you’re married, I’m not. All that shit is great, but you fools don’t know a damn thing. You”—I point to Connor—“were going to fuck it all up until Declan and Sean booted you in the ass and gave you advice you needed.” I turn to Declan. “Don’t even get me started on you. You’re the royal fuckup in relationships, and if the three of us didn’t know how to handle you, you wouldn’t have handled anything.” Then my gaze goes to Sean. “And you were going to let Devney go until I reminded you that there are baseball teams in Pennsylvania.” I feel proud at this little tirade. “None of you should give any advice.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that it feels different,” Sean says with a shake of his head.
“Maybe because it is different, you jackass. You’re like a goddamn freight train. You went from being her best friend to her husband in like seven months. Plus, she’s now a mom? Give the girl a break and maybe take some advice from the master of women.”
I don’t think I’m a genius, but it doesn’t take one to see what’s going on.
Sean rolls his eyes. “If you’re a master of women, why the hell are you alone?”
“Because I choose to be.”
“You say that,” Connor’s voice is low. “I just wonder if it’s really a choice or a safety thing.”
“My life is filled with paparazzi, rumors, scandal, and drama, and that’s before I spend countless hours prepping and filming. Bringing a woman into that isn’t fair. Not to mention, I’m never going to find women like you have. Ever. That shit doesn’t exist in the land of plastic.”
I don’t want an actress or a model. I’ve been there, done that, and got a lot of autographs. What my brothers have, that’s real. Each of them has a woman who my mother would be proud to call a daughter.
A woman like Brenna.
Stop it, Jacob.
“You’re here for five more months,” Connor says with a smirk. “There’s time.”
I’m about to respond with how I have no intention of dating or ever finding love here when a car pulls up, causing all three of their heads to turn in that direction.
The white sedan stops, and a smile forms on my lips because I’m a fucking fool.
Why am I smiling? Why does the idea of seeing her make my heart beat just a little faster?
Because I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why. She is sweet, funny, and each time she blushes, I have to force my hands not to touch her. She doesn’t ask me stupid questions or try to get some inside information, and it makes me want to talk to her for hours.
I stop myself from going there, willing my head and heart to prove that, when I actually get my eyes on her, it will be different. It’s all just some stupid infatuation that isn’t real. That, when I see her today, she won’t affect me and that gut check, want-to-weep-and-fall-at-her-feet bullshit won’t be there. Once it happens, I can prove that it was just in my head or because I was taken off guard or she’s not really all I remember at night when I’m alone.