Family? More like selkie.
I’d bet my half of Clean Haven Recycling that this has something to do with the society of mythical creatures Isla and Owen belong to. The one that she doesn’t know I know about.
Is this some arranged-marriage type of situation?The idea has me gritting my teeth.
Not that I have any aversion to arranged marriages. My coworker Adity has one, and she’s in a loving relationship with her husband. Good for them.
My problem is with Isla Brown partnering herself off with Owen.
Could I do it? Could I watch Isla walk down the aisle with my best friend? Watch them be together for the rest of my life?
Holding hands.
Kissing.
Going off to bed together each night, where he’d…
I might be sick.
But then I glance over at my business partner, where he’s laughing, having a good time with Ramona. The guy has always been a flirt, never tied down for long by any relationship. But he’s loyal as hell, and I find it strange that he’s flaunting another woman in front of his supposed future partner.
So, maybe it’s not a set-in-stone arrangement, but Isla seems to think Owen and she should be a match, and that’s what I don’t get.
“Does he know you’re trying to seduce him?”
Isla glances over to where Owen is whispering something in Ramona’s ear, which causes the woman to chuckle.
“I haven’t informed him.” She averts her gaze from the couple. “I thought a natural seduction might be the best approach.”
“As opposed to an unnatural seduction?” I can’t help poking at her clinical wording.
Isla smooths her hands over the skirt of her sundress. Water spots linger on the floral fabric, where her damp suit presses against the material.
“You caught me. I’m unsure of the proper vocabulary to use to describe my plan. Enticing maybe.” Her head tilts in thought. “Encouraging.”
“Foraging,” I throw out.
“What?” Her brows dip as she stares at me. “No. I’m notforagingfor Owen. He’s not a blackberry bush.”
When Isla’s focus is on me, all common sense leaches out of my brain, leaving only my longing in place. No memory of why I’m unworthy of her. Which has me returning to our original topic.
“Obviously, I’m not grasping your secret plan. But I think it’s clear, Owen is spoken for tonight. Which means you’re open to accepting other offers.”You can stop thinking about him for a few hours and see me instead.“Do you want to stay the night here?”
Isla reaches for the last pretzel on my plate, crunching on the snack before answering. “Moira makes good mimosas. And Mr. MacNamara always cooks his bacon to the exact right amount of crispiness.”
I press my lips together, not sure if I should laugh or groan at the knowledge that the breakfast offerings might determine if I get to spend the night with the woman I’ve wanted since freshman year of high school.
Setting aside my plate, I turn to fully face Isla, letting our knees brush. She doesn’t shift away, which is her normal reaction to someone moving closer to her.
“Do you want me to give you a minimum of three orgasms?” I’m glad our bench is on the opposite side of the fire from most of the gathering. Less likely to be overheard and have a random person butt in to the conversation when they realize what we’re discussing.
“You are confident you can achieve three?” She eyes my hands, as if they’d provide references.
“I don’t give up easily.” Leaning in to catch her gaze, I stare into the mocha irises that haunt my dreams and fantasies. “And I won’t just use my fingers.”
Her focus drops to my mouth, and she tips forward, as if my words had a magnetic effect on her. The same way hers always draw me in.
Then, Isla sits straight, whatever spell I was briefly able to cast broken. But before I accept the rejection, the selkie reaches a hand out, carefully pinching my index finger, brushing her thumb over the pad in a gentle caress.
