An American Cinderella
He looked down at my hand, rubbing his thumb over my fingers.
“You said you have an older brother,” I said, wanting to change the subject. Death wasn’t a great first date topic. “Any other siblings?”
“A younger brother, too,” he said, a smile replacing the sadness in his eyes. “Liam is the oldest, I’m the middle, and Freddy is the youngest.”
I tried to imagine two more men that looked like Henry. If they were as attractive as he was, they could all go into Hollywood and make millions. The idea of three blue-eyed handsome men was rather breathtaking.
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