“I don’t know about you, sweetheart,” Frank said to Caroline as we began serving ourselves small portions of each new dish, “but personally, I’m looking forward to getting the heck out of here and going on our honeymoon.”
“Oh hell, yes,” Caroline groaned in agreement. “I can’t wait to lie back on a Bali beach and drink Mai Tais.”
“And skinny dip in our private plunge pool,” Frank added, waggling his eyebrows at his soon-to-be wife.
She touched her forehead to his. “And make love under the stars.”
“Sounds perfect,” Frank murmured. He touched his lips lightly to hers and they both smiled, their happiness expanding into some sort of table-side bubble of love.
My eyes darted sideways to Law, only to find him looking back at me. Our gazes locked. My skin came alive, prickling with awareness. His lips parted, as if he wanted to speak, but I looked away before he had the chance. I hated that he could still do this to me. He could awaken this sense of longing for what we once were. Or what I’d thought we were.
Fragments of memory washed over me. Our first kisses, reckless and impassioned. Winter nights, when eager hands had explored and learned until our bodies shook with need. I could still remember the feel of his hands against my bare skin, his fingers grasping at my hips, his arms wrapped around Connor’s waist. I could see his mouth moving against Connor’s with a desperate hunger that reached out to include me when his gaze rose to meet mine.
Closing my eyes, I pushed the images away. Something I’d begun to do with alarming regularity in recent weeks.
I blamed Lawrence, of course. He’d done this to me, planted this seed. I’d spent years trying to dislodge it with other relationships, with other men. It had worked for the most part. Even after Connor first came home and our friendship had been revived, that little seed of an idea had continued to lie dormant. Until a few weeks ago, when a seemingly innocent discussion with a new friend, at precisely the right moment, had caused it to sprout.
I saw the way Alan looked at you when you walked out here.
Dante, the new friend I’d been chatting with, had been unaware, when he said those words, that the man he believed to beAlan, was actually my friend Connor.
That whole mess had been Sean’s doing. Still my best friend in the world after all these years, Sean had fallen for rock legend, Dante Sinclair, when he turned up as a guest at the musician’s retreat where Sean worked. He’d been hell bent on keeping Dante at arm’s length at the time, even going so far as to invent a fake boyfriend by the name of Alan. It had worked, until Sean decided to throw a birthday party for Dante, who insisted Alan be invited. Connor had laughed himself silly when I told him about Sean’s dilemma, and promptly offered to play the part of Alan for the party.
Dante had seen through the ruse before long. But, as it turned out, Sean’s behaviour wasn’t the only thing to give the game away.He looks at you the way I look at Sean,Dante had told me, gesturing to Connor.Have you seen the way I look at Sean?
Had I ever. Dante had spent the day watching every move Sean made, his gaze rich with pent-up lust. The heat of it had proved embarrassingly contagious, and I’d ended up fleeing to the edge of the pool, where I lowered my legs into the cool water in an attempt to soothe my arousal. I’d been contemplating my need to get a boyfriend of my own when Dante had joined me. He’d revealed his scepticism regarding Sean’s boyfriend, and his suspicions regardingAlan’sfeelings for me.
When I’d told him we were only friends, Dante had huffed a laugh and asked, “Do you really believe that?”
Confused by the question, I’d turned to look at Connor where he sat with Sean on the other side of the patio. Sean’s arm had been on the back of Connor’s chair, as if laying claim to him. The scene had struck me as all wrong. Not because Connor was with a man, that wasn’t anything unusual, but because he was withthe wrong man. The idea Law belonged there had sprung up, unbidden and unwelcome, causing my already overheated body to pulse with arousal. Just like that, the tiny kernel of a seed Law had planted, so many years ago, had begun to flourish.
The wicked thoughts invading my mind would have been less problematic if Connor wasn’t currently living in my spare bedroom. I’d always intended to turn the extra space into a home office but had never gotten around to it, preferring to use a back room at the studio for anything requiring time on the computer. So, after listening to him rant about how the weight of his mother’s love and affection would be the death of him, I’d offered him the room. He’d jumped on the idea like a frog on hot cement.
It had worked out well for both of us. He’d insisted on paying half the rent, which had saved me a fortune, and Connor had escaped his childhood bedroom. I’d enjoyed spending the extra time with him, right up until I started to get all achy every time he walked into the room.
Suddenly, it seemed untenable that Law wasn’t suffering over Connor’s presence the way I was. He’d started this, after all. Why should I be the only one paying the price?
“I have some news,” I blurted out, effectively putting a stop to the discussion about gnocchi going on around me. Looking Lawrence dead in the eye, I smiled. “Connor Clayton’s moved back to Brisbane, and we’re living together. Isn’t that wonderful?”
NINE
______
LAWRENCE
I dropped my fork. It bounced across my plate with a loud clatter before tumbling over the edge. My hand shot out to grab it before it fell off the table, managing to upset my water glass in the process. Icy liquid splashed across my lap and I gasped at the sudden chill. Snatching the napkin off the table, I swore under my breath and dabbed at the wet spot on the front of my trousers.
Gabi watched the whole display of ineptitude with a tiny smile perched on her lips. “Is everything all right, Lawrence?” she asked, voice dripping with innocence. “You seem… discombobulated.”
“I’m fine.” Giving up on my pants, I dumped the napkin back on the table. “You were saying? About Connor?”
“He came home a couple of months ago, actually,” she continued, forking up a piece of char-grilled asparagus. “When he needed a place to stay, I naturally offered him the use of my spare bedroom. We’ve enjoyed spending lots and lots of time together.” She articulated every word with smug precision. The woman was trying to kill me. “Isn’t that right, Frank?”
My eyes widened and I turned to Frank, who nodded without bothering to look up. “Yeah. I enjoyed catching up with him last month. Although, we didn’t get much of a chance to talk, with him being Sean’s date and all,” he added with a chuckle.
“Connor and Sean?” I cried. “What the hell?”
“It was some sort of prank or something,” Frank said with a dismissive wave of his cutlery. “They’re not actually dating.”
