Michael nodded. “Like I said before…if I see it, I say something. And I definitely see it. You two are perfect for each other. I hope it works out for you, little brother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pack. If I hurry, I can get back to Houston before dark.” He turned toward the guest bedroom.

“Michael?”

“Yeah,” his brother said, turning back.

Adam extended his hand. “Thanks. For everything.”

Michael shook his hand. “What are big brothers for?”

“Well, that thank-you includes you helping Preslee. I appreciate you checking her over and making sure she’s okay.”

A grin tugged at Michael’s lips. “What are future brothers-in-law for?”

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

Preslee awoke to the sound of voices coming from somewhere on the other side of the door. Adam’s bedroom door, to be exact. She figured it was just the two brothers talking, but she couldn’t make out the hushed words and was too exhausted to walk to the door to find out for sure.

Waking up in an unfamiliar place normally would’ve unnerved her, but not this time. She smashed her face into a soft pillow that smelled like Adam, and the comforting, masculine scent wrapped around her like a warm blanket. So she lay there motionless, allowing herself to drift in and out of sleep for a while longer.

When her eyes fluttered open again, she gazed around the room, which had grown considerably darker. To her relief, she stretched her limbs and didn’t feel pain. Only achiness. The hot shower and nap she’d taken had really helped. Although she suspected that she would probably be stiff for a few days.

Other than that, she felt…good.

Tired of lying in bed, Preslee climbed to her feet. Still weak and creaky, she opened the door and padded barefoot down the hall. Something delicious scented the air, instantly spiking her hunger to atomic proportions, and her stomach growled. It’d been a while since she’d last had anything; she hadn’t eaten at all today. Skipping breakfast hadn’t been the smartest move. Stupid crash diet.

Preslee rounded the corner into the living room and spotted Adam in the kitchen. He had his back to her while stirring something on the stove and whistling an upbeat tune. He didn’t hear her approach.

She’d never seen him in jeans and a T-shirt before. The ripped, faded denim fit him snugly, showing off muscular thighs and a nice rear end, while the worn shirt stretched tightly across his magnificent back and broad shoulders. Bare toes stuck out from beneath the frayed, distressed hem of his jeans. That alone lent an intimacy to the atmosphere. Maybe because she was barefoot too.