The Ice Twins - Nikki Jefford Page 0,10

other folded his arms and scowled. Looked like Ronin was winning. At some point, years ago, I’d developed a knack of telling the twins apart without hearing them speak. They each had small tells in their expression. Reed was more of a brooder, while Ronin wore a smile as easily as a king wore a crown.

“If I win again, victor takes all,” Ronin announced.

“Not all,” Reed grumbled.

Reed had an especially deep scowl that he’d perfected as a child. It had made me giggle as a girl. Tonight, it sent a shiver racing across the pub to rush up my neck. My buzz must have been kicking in, because I felt a flush beginning to warm over my cheeks.

Since I had nothing better to do, I turned on my stool to watch the twins play out the remainder of their game. Ronin looked me in the eyes and grinned. I lifted my pint in salute, then set it back down. Reed stormed to the board and yanked out all the darts. He returned to the shadowed corner, studied the board for several seconds, then threw the first dart. He came close to the bull’s-eye, but his lips remained pressed together firmly, only the hint of a smile edging the corners. When he won the game, he smiled smugly, with no whooping, before swaggering to the board to retrieve the darts.

There was a steady confidence in the way Ronin faced the board and rolled up his sleeves. A muscular arm shot out, launching the dart at his target. Somehow, I ended up fixated on the smooth plane of his arm. It was almost as if the twins had fully grown into adult males overnight.

Reed took his turn next. His dart hit an outer circle. He gritted his teeth and resumed folding his arms while Ronin threw his second dart. At the conclusion of the game, Ronin fist-pumped the air. Reed gave him a ghastly scowl, then stormed out of the pub and into the night. I expected Ronin to follow him outside, but he headed my way instead.

I smiled at Ronin’s approach. His eyes glittered when they met mine.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” I said, nodding in the direction of the door.

Ronin’s smile grew wider. “I don’t blame him for being upset.”

“It’s just a game,” I said.

Ronin leaned against the counter beside me, his eyes taking on a mischievous gleam that reminded me of Reed. Even his smile turned wicked. “It’s the prize that has him out of sorts.”

“Oh, yeah? And what high-stakes reward were you guys playing for?”

Ronin shot me a secretive smile. I lifted my brows, waiting for him to tell me what he’d won over Reed. The twins and I weren’t exactly friends—they were so much younger—but I had known them since they were babies. So why did Ronin seem hesitant to confide in me?

I leaned in closer. Ronin’s gaze dipped to my lips and lingered there long enough to drag the buzz in my brain down to my belly, and lower still the longer he looked.

“Come on, Ronin. Spill.”

His eyes lit up. “You know it’s me?”

“Of course.” I made a little huffing noise.

“How can you tell?”

“You’re the sweet one,” I answered. I thought Ronin might take offense to that, but his smile widened.

“You think I’m sweet? How sweet are we talking? Strawberry sweet? Blueberry? Grape? Mango? Or all-out sweetberry sweet?”

I laughed. “You’re ridiculous.” He was also suddenly very close, inching in with each mouthwatering fruit he’d mentioned, skillfully positioning himself near me as our conversation continued. I couldn’t help noticing that Ronin’s sleeves were still pulled up above his elbows and that one of his legs was now touching mine.

I cleared my throat. “Seriously, what did you win?”

The shady ambiance of the pub made his eyes appear hooded. “I won the right to buy you a drink,” he answered huskily.

I blinked once. Was Ronin Elmray flirting with me? I’d always thought of him as Lark’s younger brother. His self-assured smirk said he was no longer young or little.

“Then I suppose I’m the real winner,” I said carefully.

I was so not going on a rebound with Ronin . . . or Reed. It didn’t matter who’d won their silly little bet. For starters, they were seven years younger. Secondly, I ran across them in Pinemist regularly enough to make anything overly friendly lead to a whole lot of awkward. I mean, sure, Ronin was really cute and playful and a heck of a lot more fun to be around than