Just like Mom.
"All due respect," Reese told his father, "you don't know what you're talking about when it comes to them and you never did."
Alex's cheeks mottled in anger.
"Reese." Tag's voice was a gentle reprimand. "Dad."
Alex's attention snapped from Reese to Tag.
"Eyes all around," Tag muttered.
"I'm sick of the show," Reese said. He'd prefer to drown his fury in scotch and crack the empty bottle over Hayes's head. The asshole.
"You need to say hello to him, Reese. Tag is right. People are watching," Alex said. He didn't smile, but his face relaxed as if he was having a cordial conversation with his sons and nothing more. "Grow up."
Reese ground his molars together.
"Watch him." Alex told Tag, then strolled into the party, arms up to receive more congratulations.
"Breathe, Reese."
"Fuck off, Tag." Reese turned on his heel and went to the other bar, where the female bartender was about to empty his abandoned scotch down the drain. He snatched the glass from her and drank it down in three burning swallows. "Refill that, will you?"
At the same time, a cool hand slid over his tuxedo jacket. He turned his head to find a freckled hand resting on his forearm, a very big diamond ring on her finger.
He lifted his chin and met Gwyneth's green eyes.
"Hey, sailor." Her lips bowed into a smile. "Buy me a drink?"
* * *
Oh. My. God.
Watching Reese medicate himself with scotch was one thing, but standing idly by while Gwyneth kamikazed him was another.
Merina wasn't going to allow the skinny redhead to hit on her husband. She finished her wine and relinquished the glass, but before she took two steps toward Reese, Tag stepped in front of her.
"May I have this dance?" A smile lifted his trimmed beard.
"No. I have a redhead's ass to kick." She smiled sweetly.
"Ah. Yes, that would be good for the media." He offered his hand. She regarded it suspiciously.
"Are you going to give me more answers than he did?"
"I doubt it." He took her hand and she sent a look across the room at Gwyneth and Reese, wanting nothing more than to bust through the crowd like ten-pins before that woman could sink her teeth in him.
Again.
Funny how defensive Merina was and she didn't know what had gone down between them. But something. Her intuition was spot-on even on her worst day.
She allowed Tag to lead her to the center of the ballroom amidst a few couples dancing and chatting. He expertly turned her so her back was to Reese.
"Just remember to smile."
She forced a grin and spoke between her teeth. "How's that?"
His mouth pulled into a grimace.
When she went to move away from him, he laughed and towed her back in. "I kid, I kid. Come on, Sis, relax. I promise it's not as big of a deal as you're making it."
"Really?"
"Probably."
Tag's eyes were lighter blue than Reese's, his hair sun-kissed and golden, the waves hanging over a white button-down shirt that had to have been custom-tailored to cover the expanse of his shoulders.
She'd met Tag once before at a conference. Towering over everyone, dressed in a tight T-shirt hugging his rounded muscles and sporting a bearded smile that was oh-so-genuine, he wasn't an easy person to overlook. He carried the Crane air of confidence and moved like he was in charge. And he was not bad on the eyes. She'd noticed that as well, though her danger-o-meter went off the moment he came near. This guy was a player.
He towered over Merina, even taller than Reese by a few inches, so she had to tilt her head a little more than usual to talk to him.
"Who is she?" she asked.
"Who?" Tag's eyes flicked to the side, then back. He grinned. How full of shit was he? Merina rolled her eyes to let him know she wasn't buying it. "Oh, her."
"Yeah, her."
"That's Reese's story to tell, Sis." True, but she didn't feel like being fair. She wanted to know the truth and Reese wasn't talking.
"Obviously they dated and she's horrible."
Tag laughed and squeezed her hand in his. Merina stole a casual look over her shoulder, making out Reese's arm and Gwyneth's dress before Tag moved her again and blocked her view with his huge body.
Merina pegged him with a glare. "Is she a socialite?"
"You could say that. She cares a great deal about money," Tag said.
"Were his flowers not well received?" she fished.
"No can do on the intel." Tag shook his head. "I have a suggestion, though. When he comes back over here, seduce him. Make him a little hot under the collar in front of everyone and then take him home and"—he winked—"you know."
"Kiss my ass, Tag!" She kept her voice down, but she didn't hide her anger. "You don't have any right to tell me what to do and what not to when it comes to Reese."
"Did I hear my name?" Reese appeared between them. His voice was low and soothing, his eyes tight at the corners. He'd escaped the clutches of Gwyneth Sutton Lerner, apparently. He offered a palm to Merina. "May I?"
"Please." She pulled away from Tag, who released her waist and gave his brother a look of concern.
"Sure you're okay?" Tag asked.
"I'm good. Thank you." Reese gave his brother a nod and Tag nodded back. In the midst of that subtle exchange, she guessed these two would do anything for each other.
"I don't need Tag to run interference," she told Reese as she narrowed her eyes at Tag's retreating figure. Several women's heads turned and several of them were with dates or husbands. She clucked her tongue.
"Go easy on him." Reese tucked her against his body, and she instantly subdued, settling against him like she fit there. Tag was attractive, yes, but nothing was as electric as being held by Reese. All of her tingled. Sizzled.
"He's looking out for me."
"I saw her talking to you." She moved one hand into the back of his hair, staking her claim to anyone watching.