“Baby girl, I can believe anything of your brother. But damn!” He shakes his head and stuffs half a slice of pizza into his mouth.
“And I have no idea why this guy he set me up with would even want to marry me. He’s like New York’s most eligible bachelor. A confirmed playboy. And he’s a lawyer for the mob who, if rumors are to be believed, has ice rather than blood running through his veins.”
Tyler swallows and arches an eyebrow. “Is he hot?”
I toss my balled napkin at him. “That is not the point.”
Grinning, he slowly nods. “So he is hot.”
“His name is Nathan James. Google him and decide for yourself,” I say with a shrug.
Tyler takes his phone from his pocket and taps away at it. “Holy fuck, Goose. This guy is fucking gorgeous,” he announces only a few seconds later. “Have you seen that jawline? Wow! Come to Daddy.”
I walk around the island and peer at the picture of my alleged husband-to-be wearing a tuxedo. He isn’t smiling at the camera. In fact, he’s scowling at it, like he’s pissed about having his picture taken, but I have to agree with Tyler. He is hot. If you like grumpy, arrogant assholes—which I certainly do not.
Tyler stares at the image, practically drooling. “He looks like he could play Henry Cavill’s hotter brother in a movie about hotshot lawyers who play rugby in their free time.”
I roll my eyes and try not to laugh. “That is oddly specific.”
He blows out a breath. “I mean, I’ll marry the guy if you really don’t want to.”
I bump his shoulder with mine. “Pretty sure you’re not his type, Mav.”
He sighs dramatically and scrolls to another picture, then shouts, “Holy shit!”
“What?” I peer over his shoulder, but he clutches the screen to his chest and looks up at me.
“Did you know he has four brothers, and they’re all insanely hot?” He holds the phone out, and I examine the picture of Nathan standing with his brothers and father at some charity gala. “Even his dad is fuckable.”
“Ty!”
“What?” He shrugs. “He is. Those are some good genes, baby girl. If you’re gonna have a kid with someone, at least this guy pretty much guarantees beautiful babies.”
“All babies are beautiful,” I remind him.
His nose wrinkles. “Nuh-uh. Remember when Ashley was born? She looked like one of those troll dolls.”
“She did not!” I suppress a giggle. “She was adorable.”
“Yeah, she is now. But damn, she was an ugly baby.” He grins at me.
Glancing at his phone again, I take in every detail of the enigmatic Nathan James. “He is very handsome. So you see why I wonder what the hell he’s agreeing to marry me for? He must have some hideous secret.”
Tyler wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Are you shitting me? You are smart, kind, beautiful, and funny, and he’d be damn lucky to have you. You’re the whole deal, baby girl.” With his free hand, he scrolls through more pictures. “Not like these fake-ass models he’s always pictured with.”
“Yeah, not making me feel better, Ty.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You’re the best person I know, Melanie Edison, and don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
Chapter
Four
NATHAN
“Jesus fuck, Nathan.” My oldest brother, Elijah, shakes his head after I finish recounting what our father said to me earlier this morning. I left out the crap about me being the only one of us capable of having it all. What a load of shit.
I take a sip of my beer and signal the waitress for three more. “Yeah, you see what happens when you two fucks don’t turn up for Sunday brunch.”
“Sorry, bro,” Mason says sheepishly. “I had a hell of a date last night.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought you were dating the catalog model. Carter, was it?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head. “That kind of fizzled out. You know I like to keep my options open, and besides, he was way too clingy for me.”
“Yeah, way too pretty too,” Elijah adds. Mason and I stare at him with matching grins on our faces. “What?” Elijah blinks at us. “I can appreciate a man’s good looks. He just didn’t seem your usual type is all. You usually go for guys a little rougher round the edges.”
“Mmhmm, the rougher the better.” Mason licks his lips.
I roll my eyes, feigning my disgust, when I’m only jealous that my little brother isn’t jaded by the endless monotony of making the same small talk with a different person every week all in the hopes of a good fuck. And even that is losing its appeal.
“Shall we get back to my problem?” I remind them.
They mumble their agreement as the waitress delivers fresh beers.
“So he’s already got this wife picked out for you?” Mason asks.
“Yeah.” I nod, recalling how ridiculous the conversation was. “He even has a meeting set up with her family lawyers for Thursday.”
