Exclusive Excerpt from Gemini Keeps Capricorn

Music started, and Wesley grabbed Lloyd’s hand. Warm, tingly static skipped up his arm. After recovering from the shock, he tugged Lloyd and threaded him through the dancers.

They only made it halfway to Caleb before the director stopped the music.  “One-hundred-ninety-eight and ninety-nine. Why aren’t you dancing?”

The other dancers and band gawked at them. Caleb’s gulp was visible, and he almost dropped his flute.

The spotlight beamed down on Wesley and Lloyd, and Wesley quite liked it. He grinned. “We’re better in the background, by the band.” He glared at his brother, who at least had the decency to blush. Caleb lifted his hand and mouthed, “Five minutes.”

“Your partner is tall,” the director agreed, unconvinced.

Wesley nicked his head in Lloyd’s direction. “I worry he’ll outshine your main actors. You know, because of all the hotness.”

Lloyd laughed, and when Wesley whipped his head around to catch him, Lloyd’s lips settled into a teasing flat line. He lifted one eyebrow, though, and Wesley drilled him with a playful glare.

The director barked. “No, you’re good right there. When the music starts, we’ll pick up at the countdown. Draw close to your partners and it’s kissy-kissy time. Hooray, hooray, New Year’s is here. You know the drill.” He cued the band, who knocked out a beat in time with the crowd joyfully shouting a countdown.

Ten. Nine. Eight.

Lloyd’s gaze dropped to Wesley’s lips, and Wesley’s heart lurched into his throat.

Seven. Six.

Wesley licked his lips and laughed. “Well, this is something.”

“It’s something all right.” Lloyd rubbed a thumb over Wesley’s knuckles where Wesley was choking the life out of Lloyd’s hand. He lessened his grip with a sheepish grin.

Five. Four. Three.

Wesley shifted his feet around one of Lloyd’s and rested his shaky hand on his chest. “Kissy-kissy time.”

Lloyd dipped his head. Wesley’s stomach dropped to his knees and through his feet. Lloyd spoke into his ear, voice calm and steady. “It’s an audition. We shouldn’t.”

Two. One.

Lloyd shifted away, but Wesley looped his hand around Lloyd’s neck, gave him a diabolical grin, and kissed him. His lips met Lloyd’s with humored insistence, but he wasn’t ready for the warmth of Lloyd’s mouth. The taste of maple syrup from breakfast clung to the bow of his lip.

Wesley stilled his roaming hands against Lloyd’s shoulder blades, lips grazing off—

Lloyd slid his fingers through Wesley’s hair and cradled his head, drawing him closer.

Wesley’s veins sang with a surge of electricity. He listed against Lloyd’s strong chest, and Lloyd teased Wesley’s lips with his tongue.

Heat rocked through Wesley, and he kept kissing Lloyd well after the music had stopped.

When they parted, Wesley blinked, and blinked again. He only realized he was staring at Lloyd’s swollen bottom lip when Lloyd spoke, “Wesley?”

Wesley looked up into his questioning gaze.

The director yelled their numbers. “You two are out. Bye-bye.”

Wesley whirled toward the director. “You’re casting us out because of that kiss?”

“Yes. Go.”

“Are you completely off your rocker? That kiss was incredible.”

The director ignored him and rolled his finger at the band to wrap up. “Flute, thanks for coming in on short notice. Violin and trumpet, you’re up.”

Wesley scowled at the director. “Serious nut-job that needs glasses,” he muttered.

“He’s wearing glasses.”

Wesley threw his hands up. “See. Sight impaired.”

Lloyd regarded Wesley with amusement, and his face beamed. Wesley’s breath stalled.

The director shouting numbers yanked him out of his fog. Wesley snagged his brother and hurried the hell off stage.

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