ask my brothers for help at lunch. They’d know what I should do.
Good. Yes. I had a plan. Now I could concentrate on work.
In my underwear and overalls, I yanked the heavy drop sheet off the easel and revealed the huge canvas beneath. The painting, eight foot by six, was so far completely black and white. Stark contrast and sharp lines. If it was a piece of music, it would have been a staccato violin riff. Something was missing. It needed a deep, throbbing cello beneath it.
Yeah. Time to add color.
Domino settled on to the couch for his first of many morning naps, while I mixed paint and prepared my palette. My heart was thumping hard when I stepped back with brush in hand, loaded with an electric blue. I geared myself up to add passion and depth to the painting I’d been working on for months, the one I couldn’t stop tinkering with. The work that wouldn’t let me give my attention to anything else…
A black and white portrait of Ry.
4
Ryland
Straight down the hall, door on the right. I took a moment to breathe through my frustration and push down my fiery emotions before I let myself into Hunter’s apartment with the key code. I’d been partners with the laidback guy for seven years, ever since he’d graduated from Quantico at twenty-five. I’d been on the job for a decade before he’d joined, and they’d put him with me as something of a mentor-mentee situation, but the truth was he didn’t need me to teach him anything. And his relaxed attitude taught me a hell of a lot.
Like how to still be half-naked and eating breakfast when we were surprised to leave five minutes ago.
“Huh. Good morning for Carlisle men to be in their underwear.” I raised my coffee cup in salute as I closed the door behind me.
Hunter stopped eating his cereal and squinted at me, but then quickly put it together when he saw my cup. He scoffed and set his spoon in the bowl.
“You joking about hitting on my baby brother?”
“Absolutely not.” I pointedly looked at my watch and then at him.
He cocked a sandy blond eyebrow, challenging me, and ate slower. He knew how much I hated being late, and I knew how much he loved to piss me off. Complete opposites, we rubbed each other the wrong way a lot of the time but we clicked when it came to things I valued. We loved the job. We were dedicated to it. And we were good at it, most of the time.
“You’re ‘absolutely not’ hitting on him? Or you’re ‘absolutely not’ joking about it?” He spoke with his mouth full.
“Can you eat in the car? We’re late.” Never mind that we would have been late anyway, even if he’d been ready to go. I’d taken my time at Brax’s apartment.
“Don’t dodge my question! If you’ve got the hots for someone—anyone—I want to know about it. And if it’s my brother, then you have to tell me. Front page news. Celibate agent falls for rising art star.” He made a frame with his fingers like he was imagining the photoshop job he’d do later.
“Not celibate. Just busy.”
Not one for banter either, I tapped my watch pointedly. Hunter growled, pushed away from his small kitchen table, and stomped past me on the way to his bedroom. I’d only been in a few of the apartments at the Vanguard Tower, but from what I could tell, they all had the same layout clearly designed for versatility. Where Hunter had a lounge, Brax had an art studio set up. I’d been impressed by the huge easel covered by a drop sheet and wondered what was behind it, while the paintings displayed had almost distracted me from scoping out the joint to make sure he was safe.
Here in Hunter’s apartment, Brax’s art was everywhere too. There were abstract works on cushion covers, portraits on the walls with his signature color splashes, and even the rug looked like it might have been hand-painted by him. He had a way of bringing color and warmth everywhere he went.
“So you’re not keen on my brother?” Hunter strutted out of the bedroom in a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt and a thin tie, his shoulder-length surfer hair pulled back in a low bun. Somehow, he always looked like a runway model.
“Your brother? Which one?” I played the fool, and opened the door with a wide gesture, urging him to hurry