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His calm demeanor made him all the more intimidating.  Peter looked like he was going to shit a brick.
    “Is there a problem, ma’am?”
    And there I had it.  Just as expected, Peter embarrassed me.  Flushing, I cleared my throat to answer.  The outer door opened.  Outside, stood Marshall, the brunette girl that I’d met in the hospital earlier today, three other bodyguards, a boy in dark glasses, and half of the band.
    Great.  Just fucking great.
    “No,” I croaked.  “My brother was just being an idiot.”
    “You’re sure?”  He sounded doubtful.
    “Sure that he’s my brother?” I quipped, forcing a smile.  I knew that wasn’t what he meant.  “There’s no question about it.  Unfortunately, we’re related.”
    “Whatever,” said Carter Strickland, if I wasn’t mistaken.  He was the band’s bass guitarist.  “Let’s get this fuckin show on the road so we can see some real action.”
    “Were you gonna take another cap in the ass?” Jake Whalen gibed.  “Oh, that’s right.  You didn’t the first time.  Your phone did.”  He laughed raucously and dodged a swing from Carter.
    “Fuck you, man.  It hurt.”  The two walked back to the truck, bantering lightheartedly.  Just before they vanished behind the door, Jake glanced over his shoulder, his gaze flitting over me.
    Most women swooned over Tate Watkins, but Jake was more my type.  I’d never fantasized over him or anything like that, but I could appreciate him in the flesh.  He had this head of sun bleached waves that I wanted to coil around my fingers.  And those eyes…while my siblings and I had predominantly dark blue eyes, Jake’s were pale, almost grey in color.  Yet, his skin was tanned as if he’d just stepped off the beach.  If I hadn’t known he’d grown up in Seattle, I’d have sworn he was a Cali boy.  He wasn’t beautiful.  He was handsome, with the start of a beard that was slightly darker than his hair, and crow’s feet that spread from the corners of his eyes when he smiled.  Unlike Henry, Jake was a man, and I bet he fucked like one too.
    “Whenever you’re ready, ma’am,” prompted the scary bodyguard.
    “Oh.  Sure.  Sorry.”  Idiot!  I was such an idiot!  I smoothed out my dress and descended the stairs, avoiding my brother’s stare like the plague.  I wasn’t going to give him the chance to boss me around, or ask if he could come with me.  I was making a swift escape.
    “Paisley,” he said as I reached the door.  Don’t look.  Don’t look.  Don’t look.  My conscience betrayed me and I turned, meeting his deep blue stare.  “Take my phone.”
    He tossed it down the stairs without a second thought.  I prayed that I didn’t miss the thing, for an equal fear of breaking it, and making a total fool of myself.  Lucky for me he had good aim.  It tumbled through the air and fell directly into my upraised hands.
    “Thanks.”
    “Don’t thank me.  Pax would be pissed if I let you leave without it.”
    “She’ll be fine,” the brunette spoke up.  “We’ll keep an eye on her.”  She smiled, but with a hint of anger in her expression.  I think she had surmised the nature of the disagreement between my brother and me.
    God, I just wanted to die of mortification.
    “Bye, Peter.”
    “See you around, Pipsqueak.”  He might’ve been bluffing when he threatened to call the oldest of the Shaws earlier, but I had no doubt he was going to dial him the second I walked out the door.  See you around.  I’m sure I would.
    Had Pax been there, he wouldn’t have let me leave the house.  He was hotheaded and overprotective.  He made Peter look like a kitten.  I’d tried to go on a date with Chris Stratton, the school bad boy, and Pax broke his nose and chased him off.  I learned to never second guess Pax.  When he made a promise, he kept it.  Peter pissed you off, but Pax made you cry.
    “Hey, I’m sorry about that,” I apologized as Marshall fell into step