Page 52 of Salute, To Bravery
I nod at him, and he points at it. “That asshole threw me off our bunk beds. We were ten, and he wanted to be a wrestler.”
I roll my eyes. “You should have tucked and rolled.”
Jess watches us as we talk, chewing on her bottom lip.
“Jess?” I need to know what she’s thinking.
“So, it’s both your birthdays?”
I raise an eyebrow at Dare. “Technically, it’s only his. Until after midnight.” Dare’s always been bitter that I’m a day older.
“You were born on different days?” She seems genuinely curious.
“We were born twenty minutes apart on separate days, but we’ve always celebrated it on my day.”
Dare crosses his arms and huffs.
“This is a lot to digest.” Jess rubs her temples but hasn’t dropped my hand.
“We understand,” Dare says, coming closer to stand in front of Jess.
She gasps when she’s practically pinned between us. I bring my free hand up and run my fingertips slowly down her exposed shoulder and arm as I lean in to whisper in her opposite ear.
“Is this not what you wanted? To be the center of attention between two men?” I drag my lips down her neck and nip her shoulder before looking up at Dare.
“Nothing will happen here that you don’t want. Remember the paperwork I gave you,” Dare says.
Ah, shit. I glare at him.
“That was you?”
Crap, I squeeze the hand I’m still holding and hold on to her tightly as she tries to step closer to Dare.
“Guilty.” He smirks down at her.
“Unbelievable. How often do you switch like this?” She glares over her shoulder at me.
“It’s been decades.” I hope she can see the honesty in my eyes.
“That makes you one lucky lady.” Dare reaches up, moving her blonde hair behind her ear, and gently cups her face.
“Lucky,” she whispers as she leans into his touch, closing her eyes with a little hum.
My eyes lift to my brother’s, and I nod.
“We have a proposition, Jess.” Dare’s voice is smooth and strong as he draws his thumb across her bottom lip.
“What is it?” Jess opens her eyes to meet his.
“Will you be our birthday present?”
She inhales sharply, drawing my eyes down to her chest.
I can see straight down her dress. Her round breasts are begging for my hands, and her nipples are stiff through the thin material of the dress she wears, hiding her body from us.
“What does that mean?” Her voice is breathy. She’s intrigued.
“The normal things you do with presents,” I whisper in her ear.
