She handed him one of Gage's postcards. The image was full color and arresting, as so much of his twin's work was. It was a close-up shot of a young boy's face. His hair was close-cropped and topped with an earth-toned woven cap. His ears stuck out, and he held a bright pink flower to his nose with a grubby hand. But it was the eyes that caught Griffin's attention. Ringed with spiky lashes, they were the same silvery gray as Jane's.
He cut his gaze to her, but he only had a view of the back of her head as she stared out to sea. Flipping the postcard, he glanced down at the message. Still breathing.
That was good. Even though he'd talked to Gage just days before and the postcard had likely been mailed a week before that, seeing his brother's handwriting and touching the card stock that had been handled by him made his twin's security seem more assured. Still breathing.
Weird, though, that he wasn't certain the same could be said about the librarian. He glanced over at her again, puzzled, and then shifted his focus to Skye, sending her a silent question. What's with Jane? But the other woman only shrugged and said she had to be on her way.
Jane gave her a wave but otherwise didn't move.
Griffin didn't like her uncharacteristic preoccupation. "What's up, Jane?"
"Nothing."
He frowned. "Are you mad at me?"
She seemed to consider this, her head tilting, her gaze not leaving the surf. "Yes."
Sighing, he threw himself into the chair that Skye had vacated. "All right, let me have it."
"I don't think I will," Jane said after a moment. "I think instead I'll get up and start chopping. Remember we have Rex coming for dinner tonight to celebrate your mutual success. I'm making shish kebab."
He craned his neck to watch her cross the deck. She wore a dress that was nothing more than a figure-skimming, knee-length T-shirt. But it was made of blocks of color - yellow on top, pumpkin in the middle, black on the bottom - and she wore it with matching pumpkin shoes that had a dozen or two straps wrapping her small feet.
As she walked away, the breeze plastered the knit fabric to her, and it molded her body so sweetly that he could see the cleft of her pert ass. It got him thinking of her underwear again - always a cheerful notion.
The legs of his chair scraped as he pushed out of it. She didn't glance back, but he saw her shoulders stiffen as he stalked her into the house. Still, she ignored him, even when she whirled from the refrigerator, her hands full of vegetable bags, to find him standing right in front of her.
When she made to step around him, he stepped too, blocking her path. Then he took the bags out of her grasp and placed them on the counter. His hands he placed on her waist.
"You're bringing me down, Jane," he said. "I was feeling pretty good until you started staring out at the surf doing the whole pensive thing. Face it, moody is what I do. So tell me what's wrong, so we can get past it."
She hesitated.
"Is this going to require force?" he asked, mock-serious. "Because I'm prepared to take your panties hostage." His hands slid to her hips. "And I mean the ones you're wearing, by the way. I have to know...bows on the side or bow in the front? Is it the pair with those cute zippers at your hip bones?"
Her eyes narrowed to silver slits. "Is it all about the sex with you?"
"Yes," he said promptly. "Right now it's all about the sex."
She looked away, sighed. "At least he's honest," she murmured. Then her gaze returned to his, and her spine straightened. "You're right, moody is your domain. So I'm officially over it."
Suspicious, he tightened his fingers on her curves. "'It' what?"
Pursing her pouty mouth, she shook her head and slipped out of his grasp. As she made for the countertop and the waiting vegetables, she gave him a hot little glance over her shoulder that caused his cock to twitch.
"I'm wearing a pair you've never seen before," she said. "Fishnet triangle in the front and the back..."
Fishnet triangle? Blood screamed southward as he imagined it, and his mouth went dry. "And the back?"
"Crisscrossed strings, kind of like a cage," she said. "I believe they're crotchless."
Crotchless. He fell back a step. "No. Now you're just playing with me, Jane."