Dynasties: The Ashtons. Maureen Child

was going to use my face?”

      “It’s more fun to surprise you.” Cole started for the door.

      “Well, I don’t like it.” Eli fell into step beside him. “Not that I have any problem with Dixie’s company.”

      “Who would?” She’d undoubtedly been flirting with Eli, Cole thought. For Dixie, flirting came as naturally as breathing.

      “She’s fun to have around, not to mention being eye candy from top to toe. I just wish she’d ditch the camera.” Eli stopped, facing Cole so that he had to stop, too. “So…you have any claim there?”

      Cole’s eyebrows snapped down. “With Dixie?”

      “I think that’s who we’re talking about, yeah. I know the two of you had something going years ago, but you don’t seem to be picking up where you left off.”

      “I’ve been in Sacramento,” Cole snapped. Just because he’d decided to step back didn’t mean he wanted to watch his brother move in.

      “And I’ve been here, and I’ve been looking. Thought I’d better let you know before I made a move.”

      “You can’t find a woman of your own?” Cole demanded, furious. “You want my hand-me-downs?”

      Eli infuriated him by chuckling. “I’d like to be there when Dixie hears you refer to her as hand-medowns.”

      He wasn’t entirely crazy. “Bad choice of words,” he admitted. “But you’d still better keep your greedy hands to yourself.”

      “We’ll see. If you don’t—”

      Tilly rounded the corner of the building at a dead run, hotly pursued by a huge gray cat. The dog skidded to a halt behind Cole’s legs, trembling. And Dixie rounded the corner at a run—face flushed, long hair flying, long legs bare beneath ragged cutoffs.

      She jerked to a stop several feet away. So did Hulk, but Cole wasn’t looking at the cat.

      He was older and wiser now…but flexibility was an aspect of maturity, right? He could change his mind.

       Chapter Three

      Cole’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you move that fast before.”

      “I was trying to rescue your stupid dog.” She was out of breath and disheveled, her chest heaving beneath a skimpy T-shirt that read, Well-Behaved Women Seldom Make History.

      Tilly was calmer now that she’d found backup, though she still huddled behind Cole. He ran a hand over the top of her head soothingly and tried to sound severe. “You’re supposed to keep your demon cat inside.”

      “Guess what? He got out.”

      “Wouldn’t matter,” Eli said, “if Cole’s dog weren’t so pathetic.” He looked at Tilly, crouched behind Cole. “I know the cat is big, but you still outweigh him by fifty pounds.”

      “Like that matters.” Cole shook his head. “As far as Tilly’s concerned, everything in the world is bigger and meaner than she is.”

      Dixie sauntered closer, as casually graceful as her cat and a lot more interesting to watch. “She may be right about meaner. I’ve seen earthworms with more backbone.”

      “Earthworms are invertebrates.”

      “You get my point.”

      Eli had been noticing Dixie’s legs. In all conscience, Cole couldn’t blame him. “Aren’t you cold?” Eli asked, concerned. “This isn’t exactly shorts weather.”

      Cole could have warned him not to suggest that Dixie didn’t know what she was doing at all times. He wouldn’t have, of course, but he could have.

      Dixie eyebrows flew up. “It’s shorts weather to me. I’ve gotten used to a more rugged climate.”

      “Rugged.” Cole nodded. “Yeah, that’s the first word I think of when I think of you. I like the Tshirt.”

      “I noticed that you’d become a slow reader.”

      Since the letters were stretched across a pair of lovely breasts, he just grinned.

      While they were talking, Hulk was infiltrating. Nonchalant as only a cat can be, he’d wandered closer. Tilly kept retreating until she was behind Eli. Hulk, triumphant, stropped himself against Cole’s leg, purring.

      “Yeah, I can see how innocent you are,” Cole said, bending to pick the cat up. He promptly went limp, purring manically. Automatically Cole stroked him.

      Dixie smirked. “He likes to be rubbed behind the ears.”

      “That’s a dog thing.”

      “Tell him, not me.”

      “Okay, I get it.” Eli nodded. “See you two later.”

      Cole glanced at him. “What are you talking about?”

      “Going back to work. You remember about work? It’s something some of us like to do at this hour on a weekday.”

      “Good idea.” Cole looked back at Dixie. “Take Tilly with you.”

      “Forget it. You deserve a few handicaps. Nice to see you without that camera, Dixie,” he said, then headed off.

      Dixie watched Eli leave, looking vexed. “I like your brother.”

      “So do I, at times.” Especially when Eli had the good sense to go away. “Why does that bug you?”

      She huffed out a breath. “I wasn’t paying attention, I guess. Of course, he’s very closed up, even worse than you. Hard to read. But I was not trying to play the two of you off each other.”

      “I didn’t think you were. You can’t help flirting—that’s like breathing for you. A process I enjoyed watching, by the way, while reading your T-shirt, but never mind that for now. You don’t play men off each other. That would be calculated, and there’s nothing calculating about you.”

      “That came perilously close to a compliment on something other than my breasts. Backhanded, but averaging more positive than negative.”

      “Don’t let it go to your head. Here.” He held out twenty pounds of limp feline. “Take your monster. Tilly’s having a breakdown trying to figure out how to hide behind me when I’m holding her enemy.”

      She draped the beast over her shoulder and started at an easy pace for the carriage house. Cole fell into step beside her.

      Dixie slid him a sideways glance. “You think Tilly has some kind of canine PTSD?”

      “I’m putting it down to poor parenting. Her former owner must have mistreated her.”

      “She was previously owned by a cat?”

      His lips twitched. “I’d say her fears generalized.”

      She smiled, but fleetingly, and didn’t respond. For a few minutes they walked together in silence, with Tilly on Cole’s other side.

      Funny, he thought. He’d once found it irksome to walk with Dixie. They’d matched up great in bed, but he hadn’t liked matching his steps to hers. She strolled. He wanted to get where he was going as efficiently as possible.

      She’d said she didn’t see the appeal in sweating. He didn’t see the point in taking twenty minutes to get somewhere if you could do it in ten. But it was okay to slow down occasionally, he decided. It gave him a chance to notice the subtle scent she wore…slightly spicy, more herbal than floral, hard to pin down.

      Like her. “What did you think of New York?”

      “I