Tall, Dark_.Westmoreland! - Brenda Jackson [29]
Olivia chuckled. “It depends on what you mean by ‘mellowed.’ Both of my brothers tend to be overprotective at times, but Duan is worse than Terrence, since he’s the oldest. Duan is thirty-six, and Terrence is thirty-four.”
“And you are?” he asked, knowing a lot of women didn’t like sharing their age.
“I’m twenty-seven. What about you?”
“Thirty-two.”
Reggie took a sip of his wine and then asked, “Is Duan the one you sent the text message to on Saturday night?”
“Are you kidding?” she said, chuckling. “Duan would have been on the first flight back home, and he would not have erased your number. He would have had you thoroughly checked out. He has a lot of friends in law enforcement. He used to be a police detective. Now he owns a private investigation company. I sent the text message to Terrence. I can handle him a lot easier than I can Duan.”
Reggie nodded. “So why is a beautiful girl like you living so far away from home, in Paris?”
She smiled. “Working. I’ve always wanted to work at the Louvre Museum in Paris, and I was hired right out of grad school as a tour guide. I had to start at the bottom, but I didn’t mind if that’s what it would take to work my way up the ladder to be an art curator. It took me almost four years, but I finally made it. I’ve been a curator for almost a year.”
“Congratulations,” he said and meant it.
“Thanks.”
“So do you plan to make Paris your permanent home?” he asked, watching her sip her wine. He liked the way her lips curved around her glass. He had noticed this detail about her on Saturday night, and it had been a total turn-on…just like it was now.
“I love living over there. I miss being home sometimes, but I’ve managed to return for the holidays. My brothers and I make it a point to be home for Christmas. But my dream is to return home in a few years, when I’ve saved up enough money to establish an art gallery.” She smiled wistfully.
He nodded. “So over the years, you’ve come home only during the holidays?”
“Yes.”
He wondered if that had anything to do with the fact that her mother had walked out on them a couple of days before Christmas, according to Brent. Reggie could only imagine how disruptive that particular Christmas had to have been for them. “And how long do you plan to stay this time?”
She didn’t say anything at first, just stared into her wineglass for a while. Finally, she said, “Until the election is over.”
She glanced up and met his gaze, and he breathed in deeply and said, “We won’t let that matter now, remember?” he reminded her gently.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I remember.” She shifted positions in her seat. “So, now, tell me about Reggie Westmoreland.”
He took another sip of his wine and then leaned forward in his chair, resting his arms on his thighs. “I’m the youngest son of my parents. Multiple births run in my family. My father is a fraternal twin. My uncle John and my aunt Evelyn have five sons and one daughter.”
“Chase is one of their sons?” she interrupted.
He smiled. “Yes, and Chase is a twin. His twin, Storm, is a fireman. So in their birth order, my cousins are Dare, who is the sheriff of College Park, Thorn, who races and builds motorcycles, Stone, who is a writer and writes adventure novels as Rock Mason, the twins Chase and Storm, and Delaney, the only girl. Delaney and I are the same age and are very close.”
“I’ve heard about Thorn, and, of course, I’ve read a few Rock Mason novels. And I remember reading years ago about your cousin Delaney and how she married a sheikh. That’s awesome.”
“Yeah, we all think it is, although I have to say, her brothers weren’t too happy about it at first, especially with her leaving the country to live in the Middle East. But her husband, Jamal, is a real nice guy, and everyone looks forward to her trips home. All my cousins are married with children.”
“What about your siblings? I understand there are quite a few. Are there twins