Bedding the Wrong Brother(8)

“You mean we.”

“What?”

Max stared at him. “You mean it's what we've always wanted.”

“Sure. You. Mom and Dad. Me. We. That's what I meant.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Boys!” Their dad poked his head around the corner, his sparse hair sticking up in tufts as if he'd been pulling at it. “Fair warning. I'm not the one who's going to go on stage in sequins.”

“I'm coming, Dad.” Shaking his head, Rhys began walking backward. “Look, I don't know how we got on this ridiculous topic. Melina and I are friends. I'm happy with the act. Everything's cool.” Turning so he wouldn't have to see the doubt on his brother's face any longer, Rhys strode toward backstage. Over his shoulder, he called, “Take her out. Make her feel special. And tell her I'll see her…well, I'll see her sometime.”

Rhys forced himself to keep walking despite the little voice in his head screaming that he was a coward. Hell, he wasn't a coward, he was just realistic.

He had his life and Melina had hers. Plus, he'd told Max the truth: Their goals were so far apart they might as well live on opposite ends of the world. Still, he thought with a sigh after opening the door to the costume room, he'd been tempted by Max's offer more than he should have been. Especially because he'd wanted Melina to mistake him for Max.

Just once, he'd have liked Melina to greet him the same way she did Max. With open arms and an open smile instead of a friendly but reserved detachment that always left him wanting more.





Chapter Two





Dalton's Magic Rule #3: Learn from those with more experience.



“Teach me how to please a man.”

Max, who'd just taken a gulp of his beer, choked on it and kept coughing until Melina rose from her chair and began slapping his back. Putting down the bottle, he raised his hands, wheezed, and gently nudged her away. “I'm fine. I just…I think I misunderstood—”

Face flaming but trying to act nonchalant, Melina returned to the chair next to the sofa, crossed her legs, and smoothed her wool skirt so that it covered her knees. “You heard me right. I want you to teach me how to please a man.”

He stared at her with rounded eyes that quickly narrowed. Making a big show of looking around her small, neat living room, he muttered, “Is this a joke? Did Rhys put you up to this?”

She leaned forward and waved her hand in front of his face, knowing it would annoy him. “Focus, Max. I'm not joking.”

Grinning now, Max swatted her hand away and wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Oh, really? So what, you're suddenly hot for my body? Not that I blame you, but—”

“Will you stop?” she hissed. “I'm being serious here.” She yanked her wrist from his grip and stood, turning her back to him even as she hugged her arms close to her chest. Where were her friends and her Ben & Jerry's ice cream when she needed them? Knowing she had no choice, she forced herself to continue. “I-I suck in bed.”

The stunned silence behind her was deafening. Embarrassment threatened to swallow her whole, and she had to forcibly stop herself from running into the next room.

“Hey, that can be a good thing,” Max joked, but his attempt at humor was obviously strained.

“I'm a lousy lover,” she clarified.

Again, that moment of silence.

“Says who?” Max growled.

She studied her fingernails, frowning at how ragged they looked. She'd been chewing on them again. “Lots of people.”

“Lots?”

“Okay, not lots. Three. But they would know.”

“Three? Hell, Melina, that's not enough to conclude anything. And who said it last? That bastard you broke up with six months ago? For a woman who studies bugs for a living, you sure have a problem recognizing the less evolved of the male species. That guy probably couldn't find a woman's G-spot if I drew him a map.”

Melina sighed. Wasn't that the truth? But she had to stay focused. She had it on good authority that Brian's inability to find her G-spot was because she hadn't inspired the search. His new girlfriend had taken great delight in pointing that fact out to her.

“Well, not all men are fortunate to be famous entertainers whose female fans want them to sign their underwear.”

She heard Max rise and walk closer to her. “Yeah, it's a tough gig, but someone's gotta do it. And it's their naked bodies they want us to sign, not their underwear. I, of course, am always happy to oblige.”