Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

9. Jansen

Chapter 9

Jansen

R J chuckles as I leap from the car the second I throw it into park. The knob to the back door is in my hand before he’s even gotten his seat belt undone. I’m going to beat him to Clara and get all my welcome back kisses first.

Not that it’s a competition. But still. Me first. RJ second. This is the way it’s going to go.

I fumble through the new security setup at the back door, but I still make it before RJ comes up the steps.

Half a dozen bounding leaps later, and I’m in the living room, diving for Clara, rolling so she’s lying on top of me. Then I kick Walker off the couch, keeping her to myself for a moment.

“The fuck, Jansen?” he gripes from the floor as Clara giggles and nuzzles my neck .

“Mine.” I wrap my arms and legs around her, burrowing my face into her mess of curls. The constant buzz I felt while I was away eases as the scent of flowers engulfs me.

“I take it you missed me?” Clara asks, her nose brushing against the shell of my ear.

“I more than missed you.” Planting the biggest kiss on her soft lips, I want to do so much more, but know that the living room in front of the other guys is probably a bad idea.

Some other day? It might be the best idea. But not today.

Nobody can claim that I lack circumspection.

Walker pushes my legs off the couch, so I spin until Clara is sitting on my lap, pulling her tight against me. It feels like this is the first deep breath I’ve taken in days. I’m not ready to unhand her yet.

RJ steps around the couch and plops a kiss on the top of her head before settling into the open chair beside me. She reaches for his hand and gives it a long squeeze before letting him go, and her demeanor immediately shifts.

Small. Anxious.

The last things I want for this woman on my lap. A call for blueberry muffins the day after Christmas—I knew this wasn’t going to be a fun emergency meeting. But I need us all happy, cohesive, working together and kicking butt with smiles on our faces.

This isn’t that kind of meeting.

“So what made the wheels fall off over the last few days?” I risk.

Clara plucks at the seams of her sleeves before straightening in my lap. But it’s Trips who groans and flops his head into his hands. “I found out who the buyer of the Rubens was. ”

Walker inches close enough to hold Clara’s hand, having picked up on the same tension she’s radiating that I did. “How?” he asks.

Trips’ leg bounces. “My dumb-ass brother brought me right to it. It’s an engagement gift for his fiancée. Apparently, she loves cats.”

Walker’s laugh is tinged with mania. “She loves cats ? That’s why we stole the damn thing in Chicago? Does she even like art ?”

“As far as I can tell, she’s totally indifferent. As is my brother. My father made it clear that he was the one facilitating the retrieval, though.”

The silence hovers between all of us. We went through those stupid tryouts that almost got me killed. I was minutes from jail and Clara was nearly raped because Trips’ dad wanted to screw us over? “But why? Why did he make it so hard for us?”

“Honestly? I think he wanted you out of the picture, Jansen. Either dead or in jail. Without a thief, this whole thing crumbles, and the asshole progenitor can see that as easily as anyone else.”

Huh. I never figured I was anything more than a nuisance with a singular useful skill. But Trips and his dad think I’m a linchpin? Weird.

RJ reaches across and squeezes Clara’s knee. “How did he figure out what you were up to? We’ve been careful. At least as careful as we can be.”

Trips slumps back into the seat, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Maybe I let something drop while I was on the phone during a visit home? I usually choose my words carefully, but I’m not perfect. And I haven’t been at the estate often enough to know which rooms are being recorded anymore. Of course, he always switches it up to keep everyone on their toes. No one is getting away with anything in that house without him collecting blackmail material. It doesn’t really matter how he found out, though, only that he did. And he insinuated he has security footage of us doing the heist. Specifically, of Clara and me.”

Clara lets out a long exhale, but doesn’t say anything.

“Blackmail?” Walker asks.

“Yeah. Both of us.”

“Me?” Clara squeaks. I burrow my nose into her neck, the urge to press my teeth to the skin there strong. But it’s not what she needs right now.

Trips stands up, pacing behind his chair like he needs a barrier between us and his words. “He wants to meet you, Clara. You’re supposed to come to my brother’s engagement party after New Years. It’s a two-day affair, and it will be brutal. My family practically requires a thousand-page manual to navigate, and my father is a novel by himself.”

I press my teeth against the skin of her neck, not able to resist the draw, before covering my move with a kiss, wishing we were somewhere else, doing something else. “We should just steal it.”

Walker reaches for his sketchbook sitting on the coffee table. “Steal what, Jansen? The blackmail video or the Rubens?”

“Either. Both. Whatever it takes to make this go away.” Clara shivers gently at my ministrations, and I barely keep my grin hidden .

“I’m not sure you realize the level of security my father has, Jansen. Paranoid is practically his middle name.”

Sneaking my fingers under Clara’s shirt, I trail my middle finger along the waistband of her pants. “I’ve been there. The gallery is tough, I’ll give you that. But what about your dad’s computer? That can’t be in a windowless, climate controlled, hyper-secure box.”

“Nearly.”

The doorbell chimes, all of us freezing. Trips shares a look with Clara, and I know there’s more to this meeting than Trips’ dad being a complete terror. Trying to put me in jail. Ha.

Kill me? Really not cool.

Trips goes to get the door, leaving the rest of us with Clara. Bad idea, that.

How he keeps his hands off of her is a complete mystery to me.

I slide her between Walker and me on the couch. “What are all these secretive glances with Trips?” I tease.

She frowns and twists her fingers together. “We were getting to that part. Not that I have an itinerary or anything.”

Walker slides his arm over her shoulder, just like I’d hoped he would, his sketchbook skittering across the table. Honestly, I was hopeful the three of us could turn this meeting into a party, but an arm around the shoulder is better than nothing.

Trips clears his throat from the hallway, and standing next to him is a face I’ve only seen in a few pictures, but it’s still recognizable as one of Walker’s brothers. “Hi! Come on in, Lee brother. Are you one of the doctors?” I call .

Walker groans, and the guy somehow simultaneously shrinks and throws his shoulders back. That’s talent. “Um, no, not yet. I’ll graduate this spring. I’m Bennet. Call me Ben.”

He shifts his weight from foot to foot, but doesn’t take up my invitation to join us. He’s locked on Walker’s arm around Clara, and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong setting her there. Walker stands up, and after a second, pulls Clara with him. “Benny, what are you doing here? Don’t you have a plane to catch?”

“Yeah, but Mom was worried you’d go hungry because you hadn’t taken any of the extra food. Dad decided we should bring it to you on the way to the airport.” He holds up the canvas bag, and I can’t help the chuckle that pops out of me. As if Walker needs to take his mom’s leftovers to stay fed.

Walker shoots me a glare, which makes RJ cough to cover his own laugh. Clara by his side, he gets the bag from his brother, and they just stand there, awkward and silent as all hell.

Man. Evie and I would never be like that.

Ben looks everywhere but at Walker before drifting to one side of the room. “Wait, Walker, are these your paintings?” He walks up to a Poussin-inspired landscape that Walker did two years ago, stopping an inch before touching it.

“Yeah. That one’s shit. I hadn’t learned how to get the pigmentation correct back then. It’s a little too ‘70s chic and not quite baroque.”

“But it’s actually kind of good.”

It’s Trips’ turn to huff out a laugh from the doorway .

Clara steps forward, her hand still locked with Walker’s. “It’s very good. Every painting in here is his. He’s amazing, brimming with talent.”

Ben makes a slow circle of the room, and like we’re at a museum or something, we watch him in silence. All kinds of weird going on today.

Finally, back at the front hall, he turns to the room. “Maybe I shouldn’t have destroyed those sketchbooks of yours when we were kids. They could be worth millions someday.”

Walker swings the bag of food against his leg. “Guess you fucked up, you unlucky bastard.”

“Although, you did tell eomma that I’d been sneaking out, so you definitely deserved it.”

A bark of laughter flies from Walker, and the tension between the two of them lessens. “I was a bit of a shithead, wasn’t I?”

“Yup.” Ben glances toward the door. “I should get going. But I’m glad Mom and Dad let you do your art thing. This looks like it’s working for you.” He gives Clara another look, her hand still wrapped in Walker’s.

The guy’s going to be a doctor in a few months. He knows a girlfriend when he sees one.

Walker shakes his head. “Yeah. Dad’s either so caught up singing to some old-timey song he lost track of time, or about ready to pound down the door.”

“You know the odds are leaning toward door pounding.” They share a smile.

“Oh, and Benny? Mom and Dad still don’t approve of my art. So don’t bring it up with abeoji. ”

“Wait—was the threat of them not paying for school if I didn’t pick one of the handful of approved career paths a real one?”

“They were dead serious. I’ve been paying my own way since sophomore year. But you need to head out. And if you could maybe not mention—”

“The fact that you’re dating before you have your degree? Yeah. I know the drill. Janie would love to come meet you guys sometime, but it’ll have to be after graduation for Mom and Dad to not freak out.”

“I’ll pencil it in.”

Ben ignores the sarcasm, his gaze circling the walls before leaving, Trips trailing him to lock up.

I bounce from the couch, the itch in my legs hurtling me toward Walker and Clara, pulling them both into a hug. “Aww! Clara got to meet a brother! And after only a few months. I’m jealous that you didn’t introduce me first. Luckily, I know I’ll always be number one in your heart, Walker.”

“Fuck off, you delusional nut job.” Walker tries to wiggle out of my arms, but while he took up climbing last year, I’ve been hauling myself up buildings since before Walker learned how to properly prepare a canvas. He’s not getting out of this group hug.

RJ and Trips can’t help but laugh at his futile struggle, and finally, finally this meeting is getting better.

Not orgy better.

But I’ll take anything that includes laughs and avoids murderous fathers.

It’s the small things.