Jordan thrusts out his chest. “We dare you to take control of us.”

“If you can,” Wiley says with an impish grin.

Kent gives me the understated bedroom eyes that always make my knees wobble. “Do your worst.”

Relishing my role, I point to him. “I think we have a volunteer–get on the bed. Wiley. Jordan, your seats are ready.”

With both his brothers in their chairs, Kent stretches out on the bed, smoothing it around him. I lick my lips and ...