He was out of his mind over this woman. He couldn’t get enough of her—her delicate little body, her beautiful blue eyes, the perfection that was her skin. The flawlessness of her submission—and he’d better not even think about that or he’d have yet another raging hard-on at work. But it was more than the sexual part of it—there was the emotional component, which was pretty damn potent.

Back to work.

He squinted at the computer screen, but all he could see was Summer Grace’s face. He ran both his hands over his buzz cut, rubbing his scalp.

“Headache, cousin?”

He whipped around to find Duff dwarfing the doorway of his office. He broke into a grin as he got up and grabbed Duff in a hug. His huge cousin pounded him on the back hard enough to make him cough.

Jamie pulled back. “Jesus, what the hell do they feed you in Scotland?”

“Haggis. Maybe you should have had more of it before you left, puny boy.”

“I’d hardly call six-foot-two puny, other than in comparison to you, you circus freak.”

“Aye, that I am,” Duff agreed good-naturedly. “Want to arm wrestle over it?”

“Fuck you. Hardly. How was your flight? And why wouldn’t you let me pick you up from the airport?”

“Ah, those airport greetings are far too emotional for me.”

Jamie grinned. “Are you telling me you might have cried, cousin?”

“No, but I thought you might, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with that—haven’t carried a hankie since . . . never. So what’s all the head rubbing about? Business?”

“What? No, the business stuff is all good. When you’ve had a chance to rest up I’ll show you the figures. Meanwhile, do you want to take a look at the space in person?”

“Fuck, yes.” Duff gave him another breath-stilting pounding on the back.

“All right—follow me.”

Jamie led the way outside, and used his new key to open the heavy padlock on the rusted metal door of the old building next to his.

“Welcome to SGR Motorcycles, your new baby.”

He swung the door up with a flourish and turned to catch Duff’s wide grin. The place was a mess of stained and crumbling concrete floors, with piles of junk left behind by the last tenants, but he could see Duff was as excited as he was about the place.

“I can’t believe we had to wait so damn long for this spot to be available,” Duff said, looking around the space. “Seems we’ve been talking about it for a good five years or more.”

“Well, we wouldn’t have had the money to do it right until now, anyway. I thought you could have your office up front, and all the bays over there, with plenty of secure storage in the back.”

Duff nodded his big shaved head. Jamie had always thought his cousin looked like a Scottish version of Mr. Clean.

“I’ll want to keep a good dozen bikes here at any time,” Duff told him.

“That was my thought, too. And maybe as many as twenty if we build in a riser so we have two levels.”

“Good idea.”

“We have a lot to talk about. The architect will meet with us in ten days.”

“Can’t wait. Meanwhile, cousin, where can I get a sit-down and a cold drink around here?”

“For me, you mean, since you don’t drink?” Jamie grinned at him. “Flynn McCools isn’t far—you remember the place? If you don’t mind the Irish, that is.”

“It’ll do since I’m off the booze and on the cola.”

“You feel up to walking?”

“I feel up to wrestling a fucking bear.”

Jamie laughed as he locked the metal door behind him. “Same old Duff.”

“Yeah. I’d say same old Jamie except something’s different.”

“Jesus. Really? I’m that transparent?”

“Apparently.”

They moved down the sidewalk while Jamie turned over in his head how much he wanted to reveal, how much he was even ready to deal with himself.

“I’m in love,” he blurted out, then muttered, “Fuck.”

Duff let his head fall back as he let out a roar of laughter. “So the bug finally bit you, did it? I’d guess it’s that same girl.”

“Yeah. It’s never been anyone else.”

“She sounds like a good one, anyway.”

“She is. She’s fucking amazing.”

“So what’s the trouble, then?”

Jamie shrugged. “Same shit as always.”

They were both quiet for a bit. The tourists were out in force, and it was only Duff’s unusual size that allowed them to pass through easily—people tended to part like the Red Sea for him. A few minutes later they stepped into the half-dark pub and found seats at the old polished wood bar. They ordered Jamie’s ale and a Coke for Duff, then sandwiches, and the barkeep set their drinks in front of them.

Duff took a long swallow. “Ah, that hits the spot, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

Duff turned to look at him. “Happy to see me, are you?”

“Shit. I’m sorry, cousin. My head is all fucked up about Summer Grace.”

“Yeah, it is. You should do something about that.”

“Like what?”

“Like tell her you love her and want to marry her and bear her children and all that crap.”

Jamie laughed. “Get right to the point, why don’t you? And no one’s bearing children, and if they are, it sure as hell won’t be me.”

Children? With Summer Grace? He immediately shoved the thought to the back of his mind.

“Well, why not?” Duff asked. “No point in bullshitting you. Is there any point in you bullshitting her?”

“Maybe there is.”

“Well, you’d better figure it the fuck out, cousin, because we have business to attend to.”

Jamie ran a hand over his head. “Yeah. You’re right. Don’t worry—I’ll keep the business end of things going.”

“Damn right. I didn’t move halfway across the world to have you slack off.”

“You are one hard-ass motherfucker.”

Duff grinned. “Yeah, I am.” He downed the rest of his Coke and ordered another. “You going to tell me what you plan to do about the girl?” he demanded.

“Maybe after I figure it out myself.”

“Take some advice from an old bastard who knows nothing about women—don’t wait too long. Women only have so much patience, you know. Don’t fuck it up the way I did with Bess.”

“You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself about that,” Jamie started.

Duff arched one dark brow. “Oh no? I can’t agree with you, cousin. But let’s leave that argument for another day.”

He shrugged. “No problem.”

He’d leave Duff alone about why his ex-girlfriend had left him just over a year ago, but he couldn’t leave himself alone about Summer Grace. He was afraid his cousin was right—that if he didn’t figure out what the hell was up with him and what he wanted, the woman of his dreams would decide she’d waited long enough for him. And he was equally afraid—maybe more so—that if he told her how he felt and the relationship went any deeper, he’d end up losing her in some terrible way. There didn’t seem to be any happy scenario when he turned it over in his head.

But Goddamn it, he loved her. And Duff was right—he shouldn’t wait any longer. As he downed another long gulp of the cool ale he decided: he’d get his cousin settled into his apartment, then he’d go find Summer Grace and tell her.

His gut twisted, but he ordered himself to calm down. Control was everything—always had been—and this was no different. He needed to man up. And apparently he’d needed his giant of a cousin to remind him. He’d go to her tonight.

*   *   *

JAMIE HAD STOPPED by his place to take a quick shower, then left Duff there to sleep off his jet lag before heading over to Summer Grace’s place in the Gentilly district.

He downshifted the Corvette as he turned off the busier street and into her quiet neighborhood. Pulling to the curb in front of her house, he got out, stretching his long legs, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. He had to pull in a long breath, blinking up at the sky, which had just gone dark. There were some clouds backlit by the moon and the stars, and the air was heavy and sweet with the tang of flowers. A typical New Orleans summer night. Except there was nothing typical about it—not in his lifetime. He was about to tell Summer Grace he loved her.