Page 6 of His Lovebug

He tilted his head, the shit-eating grin affecting me more than I cared to admit. If there was anyone who could goad a reaction out of me, it was my younger brother. “It’s okay, Matt?—”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Don’t be so sour. I’m not going to judge you. Hell, I’ve had a dude a few times. They’re different, an acquired taste if you ask me, but I dive into the temptations sometimes, too.”

I breathed heavily through my nose and shook my head. I poked his chest, causing him to take a few steps back.Good. I was the one in charge here, not him. “If you go near my wife, Jackson, I won’t just kill you. I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to the coyotes first, and I’ll make you watch. Then, I’ll take each limb off your body, one by one.” Pure hot anger raged inside me, twisting and knotting in my chest until it became hard to push air out of my lungs.

His smarmy attitude faltered and his smile wavered as he studied me carefully, and heknewI meant business. Brother or not, I’d do all those things to him.

“This is your first and only warning. Quin is off-limits.” I shoved him, and he tumbled back into the chair behind him. “You can stay, but only because Quin said you could. But remember what I said. Don’t talk to him.” I slammed my hands down on the chair’s arms, trapping him in the seat. He raised his chin, that familiar, teasing smirk planted on his lips again. “You will be polite and are only allowed to thank him when he makes food. You will respect him, but you will not make him uncomfortable. If I catch wind of you flirting with him, I will follow through with my promise. Am I clear?”

His eyes glimmered mischievously. “Sure thing, M?—”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You’ll call me Colt like everyone else. Only Quin gets to call me Matt.” I straightened and exhaled through the pounding sound of blood that rushed in my ears. “Now, fuck off.”

Jackson laughed low and stood. “What does he see in a bruiser like you?” He left quickly through the door before I could punch him. Lucky bastard.

I stalked back around my desk and grabbed my phone, immediately finding Quin’s name in it and tapping to call him. I went directly to voicemail, which meant he was more than pissed off with me, he was downright furious. I didn’t blamehim. Jackson made me irrational at the best of times, and I’d taken it out on Quin. I knew where he would go, though, so I called Morgan next.

She answered with a “What the hell do you want?”

I winced.Shit. She was mad, too. I opened my drawer and grabbed the keys for my black Hummer before I headed out of the den toward the garage. I wasn’t going to let Quin stay away from me, angry or not. “Is he there?”

“Who?” I heard the roll of her eyes in her voice. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Morgan,” I warned in a low tone. “I want to speak to my wife.”

“Maybeyou should’ve talked to him when he was there instead of biting his head off and accusing him of being a thirsty slut, Colt. What the hell?”

Ouch.I was glad he had a friend like Morgan, but she didn’t make these moments easy. She was overprotective, the same as me, which came in handy. Except when I was the one who’d annoyed him. He’d never walked out this way, though.

“Can I talk to him?” I asked nicely.

“No,” she delivered as bluntly as only Morgan could. She didn’t take any shit from me, either, another reason I liked her and why she got along with Quin. She wasn’t just the best friend he needed, she was the one he deserved.

“Morgan . . . .”

“Yes, Colt?”

“Put him on the phone.” I unlocked the Hummer and leaped into the front seat.

“No, I can’t do that, honey. We’re busy right now.” Amusement tinged her voice, and behind her there was light laughter.Quin.

“Don’t make me come and get him,” I warned.

“I’d love to see you try.” The line went dead.

Growling in frustration, I threw my phone on the dashboard and hit the ignition.

The Hummer roared to life, the rumble of its engine working its way through my chest and soothing an ache that had begun to throb there. Guilt festered and multiplied as I thought back on my cruel and harsh words to Quin. I hadn’t meant to snap at him or accuse him of anything, but my nerves were always frayed around Jackson. He knew exactly what to do or say to strip away my barriers and stab me in my most vulnerable parts. He was my brother, yes, but he was also my greatest enemy. The one who enjoyed hurting me so he could see me bleed. Jackson had always had a sick sense of pleasure.

I punched the pedal on the Hummer and shot out of the driveway, heading in the direction of Morgan’s house. I didn’t allow myself to think about my brother. Thoughts like that would only open up more weakness, and I couldn’t allow it. I loved Quin too deeply to lose him to any fragility I had lingering below the surface.

I was his husband.

He deserved someone strong and competent.

I switched on the music, focusing on the thrum of a rock ’n’ roll beat. By the time I arrived at Morgan’s, I’d built up my firm sense of self again.

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