“Your bodyguard is here again,” Max murmured, his amusement sparkling in his green eyes.

Jem Peacock didn’t follow his brother’s gaze. He refused to look over to the other booth in the VIP section of Peacock. He knew what he’d see. The bodyguard in question had been in their club every night for weeks.

“And this time he brought company. Mmmm, pretty.” Max was practically salivating.

Jem held back a growl. “They’re all loved-up, Maxy. Don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t call me Maxy, Jezza. There’s only one boy there. The rest are all big and burly. Yummy.” Max licked his lips.

Jem rolled his eyes. “As I said, all loved up.”

“Except your bodyguard, poor lamb. Sitting there all by himself. He looks so lonely.”

“He’s not my bodyguard.” Jem scowled at Max’s gleeful expression, but he kept his tone cool, knowing his brother would pounce on any sign of weakness. “And he’s certainly not a lamb.” There was nothing soft about Griff Carlton. He was all hard muscle. “He’s not my type.”

Max scoffed at him. “Oh, little brother, you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. Griff is so your bodyguard. How many nights has he been in here since you met him?”

“I don’t know.” Jem glared at his brother, but it didn’t take the wicked grin off Max’s face, and Jem knew what he was going to say.

“Every night. Your boy has been here every single night for the past two months.”

“He’s not my boy.” Jem held back a shiver. Griff may be years younger than Jem, but he was definitely not a boy.

“No,” Max drawled. “He’s certainly not your boy. Your Daddy, perhaps?”