Chapter 12
LUCAS
Istood in Lexi’s bedroom, the echo of her lips still burning on mine, my pulse hammering like I’d just run a mile under fire. The air was thick with steam and her scent—clean, warm, with that maddening hint of woman that made my blood roar.
Hannah’s footsteps retreating to the porch had snapped me out of it, like a bucket of cold water to the face. I ran a hand through my hair, willing my heart rate to slow. Get it together, Dane. This wasn’t a mission gone sideways; it was worse. It was personal.
I tugged my shirt straight, the fabric still warm from her hands, and took a deep breath.
The house creaked softly, settling into the night, the marsh outside whispering secrets I couldn’t catch.
I needed to talk to Hannah, clear the air before this turned into a bigger mess. Might as well get it over with.
I grabbed the vodka sodas I’d mixed earlier, the ice half-melted now, and headed for the porch.
The night air hit me as I stepped outside, humid and heavy.
Hannah sat on a wicker chair, takeout bag at her feet, her posture stiff as she stared out at the dark water.
The porch light cast a soft glow, catching the sharp line of her jaw, the way her dark hair was pulled into a tight knot, like she was holding herself together through sheer will.
I set her drink on the table beside her, keeping mine in hand. “Thought you might need this.”
She glanced at the glass, then at me, her eyes narrowing. “You think a drink fixes this?”
I leaned against the railing, keeping my stance easy. “Fixes what?”
Her laugh was sharp, more exhale than humor.
“Don’t play dumb, Lucas. I don’t care who you are—Dominion Hall, Secret Service, whatever—I can get you fired.
One call.” She paused, her gaze cutting through me like a blade.
“But that’d be stupid, wouldn’t it? You’d just be replaced by another guy with a gun and a hero complex. ”
I sipped my drink, the lime sharp on my tongue, and let her vent. She was blowing off steam, and I’d seen enough pissed-off siblings to know when to stay quiet. Her protectiveness was fierce, but it wasn’t just anger—it was love, stretched thin by worry.
“Must be hard,” I said after a moment, keeping my tone neutral. “Working for your sister.”
Hannah’s eyes flicked to me, sharp and assessing, like I’d hit a nerve. “It has its moments,” she said, her voice clipped. “This isn’t one of them.”
I nodded, taking a seat across from her, the wicker creaking under my weight.
“Fair. But I’m not talking about tonight. I mean the whole thing—keeping her world spinning. Sounds like a lot.”
She huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. If you and Lexi want to play hanky-panky, that’s on you. But don’t expect me to clean up the fallout. Because if there’s one thing I know about my sister, she gets what she wants. Always has. Spoiled? Maybe not in the bratty way, but she’s used to winning.”
I leaned back, more intrigued than concerned.
Hannah’s frustration was raw, but beneath it was a loyalty that reminded me of my brothers—Caleb, Jacob, Ethan, the way we’d tear into each other but take a bullet for one another without blinking.
Working with a sibling, especially a famous one, had to be a tightrope walk.
“What’s it like?” I asked, genuinely curious. “The coordination, the schedules, the … everything. Like running an opera, right? Every piece has to be perfect.”
Her expression softened, just a fraction, like I’d cracked through her armor.
“Exhausting,” she admitted, picking up her drink and staring into it.
“Lexi’s not just an actress—she’s a machine now.
Hollywood’s darling, always in demand. Every move’s scrutinized, every choice dissected.
Keeping that together, making sure she’s where she needs to be, looking the way they expect, saying the right things—it’s a full-time job.
More than that.” She took a sip, her shoulders loosening.
“But there are perks. We’ve seen places most people only dream of—Paris for a premiere, Tokyo for a press junket, a week in Santorini just because some designer wanted her in their campaign.
Those moments … they’re magic. Worth the chaos. ”
I nodded, picturing it—two sisters navigating a world of glamour and pressure, stealing moments of joy between the grind. It sounded like my own life in a way, the highs of a mission’s success balanced against the relentless weight of the job.
“Sounds like you’ve got stories,” I said, my tone light.
She smiled, small but real. “Oh, we do. Like the time Lexi convinced a Monaco security guard she was a lost tourist just to sneak into a casino after hours. Got us both in, and we ended up playing blackjack with some prince until dawn.”
Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and Lexi stepped onto the porch, barefoot, wrapped in a loose sweater and leggings, her hair damp and curling from the shower. She looked softer now, less like the untouchable star and more like a woman who’d just fought a battle with her own head.
“You’re talking about Monaco?” she said, her voice warm with memory. “God, Hannah, you were so mad when I dragged you into that.”
Hannah rolled her eyes, but there was affection in it. “You almost got us arrested.”
“Almost doesn’t count,” Lexi shot back, dropping into a chair beside her sister. “Besides, you won thirty grand that night.”
For a moment, they were just sisters, giggling over a shared secret, their voices light and teasing.
I could almost see them as kids, sneaking out while their parents were away, stirring up trouble and laughing their way out of it.
It was a glimpse into something real, unguarded, and it tugged at me in a way I didn’t expect.
My brothers and I had been like that once—wild, reckless, bound by blood and mischief under Montana’s endless sky.
The moment faded as Hannah’s expression shifted, her gaze settling on the takeout bag.
“Speaking of trouble,” she said, her tone sobering, “Franklin’s losing it. He thinks we’re falling further behind schedule.”
Lexi nodded, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “We’re on every timeline I’ve seen. He’s just … Franklin.”
“Maybe we don’t work with him again,” Lexi said, her voice firm. “At least, for a while.”
Hannah tilted her head, considering. “He’s the director of the moment, sis. If this movie doesn’t get an award or make bank, something’s seriously wrong.”
For the first time, I saw a crack in Lexi’s armor—a flicker of insecurity in her eyes as she looked at her sister. “You really think it’s good?” she asked, her voice quieter, almost fragile.
Hannah leaned forward, her gaze steady and sincere. “Yes. The script’s fabulous, your chemistry with Benji is electric, and honestly? This is the most relaxed I’ve seen you on film. You’re … you out there. It’s special.”
Lexi’s lips parted, a soft “Thank you” slipping out.
She looked down, her fingers tightening around her glass, and I felt that tug again, deeper this time.
She wasn’t just the untouchable star or the siren who’d nearly undone me in her bathroom.
She was human, raw, carrying a weight I hadn’t seen until now.
We sat in silence for a while, the stars prickling to life above the marsh. Fireflies blinked in the distance, their glow soft against the dark water. It was peaceful, something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Hannah broke the quiet, sitting up suddenly, her eyes snapping to me. “Wait. You’re the guy from last night, aren’t you?”
The question hit like a sniper’s round—clean, precise, no warning.
My gaze flicked to Lexi, instinct kicking in. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how much she’d shared or what Hannah had pieced together from the viral clips. Lexi’s eyes met mine, wide and unreadable, a mix of amusement and something else—worry, maybe.
I opened my mouth, but no words came. I was caught off guard, my training useless against the weight of those two women staring at me, waiting for an answer.