“Fuck, I missed you today,” he says, completely unfiltered and genuine, and I should have put more chilli in that mocktail because the amount I settled on now feels very under-representative of the instant fire in my chest and between my legs.
“Happy birthday, again,” I say, and I stretch as far as I can up on my toes and rub his nose with mine. “Are you surprising me and saying your parents got a better offer?”
“You sound far too hopeful,” he says, and his hands slide down to hold my waist against him. “But I'm sorry, no. They're on their way but I had to come early and do this.”
He kisses me again, this time with enough force that I almost stumble back, and I feel an uncomfortable twinge in my neck from the angle he moves me in.That is why I'm a moment late in realising that his hands have slid lower, grabbing a substantial handful of my butt in each palm and pushing my stomach against the place where Marty is growing hard. I'm starting to think it could easily be criminal that he's that big, hard and ready for me already and we have to wait hours before he can slide inside me, but then we hear a loud, intentional cough.
“Would you please extract your tongue from my sister's mouth?” I hear Jake say from somewhere behind Marty. Obeying, Marty pulls back, and we both turn to him.
“Jealous, Sweet Cheeks?” Marty asks with a grin that is much too cocky, even feeling what I'm feeling against my belly button.
“Of a meal with a lover's parents who are possibly closer in age and cultural references to me than the man who's dicking me? No, thank you very much. Believe me when I say I can handle a lot of drama but even I couldn't cope with that.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jake,” I say as I step back and find my chair.
“Didn't have you down as a bottom, Resort Manager. But good to know.” Marty winks as he also sits down.
“Everything okay back there?” I jump in just as I see Jake’s mouth open to reply with something equally inappropriate.
“Not in the slightest,” Jake says with a pained smile. “We're down to our last ten scallops - which is easily our most popular starter, and we have another fifty covers coming this evening - and unbelievably someone just burnt soup, so am pretty sure I'll have aged ten years by the time tonight is over.”
“You're a man down in the kitchen?” Marty couldn't look more interested.
“Two men down now. Our head chef is off with flu, and I've just had to send our commis chef home for sneezing a little too close to our dessert station. I refuse to take any chances.”
“Jesus, that's a fucker. How can I help?” Marty says standing up again.
I am too stunned to protest - the horror of even imagining having dinner alone with his parents and sister grips me - but I don't have to thanks to my brother.
“And leave my poor sister to get ripped to pieces by parents who are no doubt as quick-witted and dry in the sense of humour department as you? You must think I don't actually love the only living family member who gives a monkey's about me? Sit your admittedly cute backside down and take good care of her, please.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” Marty gives a quick salute before he sits down.
“And please ensure nobody orders the scallops!” Jake declares before marching off.
“Love you, Jakey,” I say to his back.
When it's just us, and after a quick scout of the entrance to check his family aren't on their way, I lean towards Marty.
“How are you doing, birthday boy?”
“Me, I’m fine. The question is how you are, and if you’re ready for this? It's going to be an absolute shit show, you know. My mum has had plenty of warnings today, but so far she's ignored every single one.”
“What's the worst that could happen?” I ask, both as a joke and because I’m now a little worried what the answer could be.
“Tears? A tantrum? A mental breakdown? And that's just me, I haven't even considered the possibilities for my mother. Now, are we sitting in the right seats to get the best view of the sunset?” he asks.
I lean over and rake my fingers through his hair. “Yes, that was my first thought too.” I brush his lips with mine. My intention wasn't for it to be more than that, but he's quick to nudge my mouth open and find my tongue with his, and I'm too enraptured with how he’s stroking my neck and how he smells – sun cream, cinnamon, lemon and fresh air - to stop it deepening, which it does until we are jolted apart from the loudest, most severe throat-clearing noise I've heard in my life.
Please be my brother. Please be my brother. Please be my brother.I beg the universe as I open my eyes.
It is not my brother.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Jenna
Smiling at us with an undeniable glint in his eyes, I see Marty's father. Again, I notice how his features differ from his son’s – a more subtle nose and fairer colouring - but he has a similar presence, the same strong and straight-up physique. Apparently, he also has the ability to make quite the noise when coughing on purpose.
