George read my mind, and like I’d stumbled down my darkest fantasies of romance, a low rumble echoed in the back of his throat. A hand dipped down to my stomach, pushing open the huge coat, keeping the cold out. His fingers barely grazed the bare skin of my belly, the touch featherlight but it sent a million fireworks bursting to life across my skin. Suddenly, the coat felt like overkill as my body burned up.
Jesus Christ. All he did was touch me and I was ready to turn around and give him a fucking lap dance.
He felt me tense. ‘You okay?’ His breath tickled the base of my ear.
Thankfully, before I could answer in nothing more than a breathy moan, Oliver piped up. ‘I guess you guys were made for each other then.’
All the muscles in my body froze. ‘What?’
Fallon’s eyes widened at the harshness in my tone. George removed his hand, placing it on my thigh, probably to comfort me.
‘You both have a history of vigilante justice. Unlike someone who can’t keep a secret to save her life.’ His gaze shifted to Fallon, who was watching me like a hawk, her eyes pinched in concern. I forced a stiff smile to my face. A shit attempt to convince her I was fine. That this didn’t bother me in the slightest. All of us sitting around like we were one big happy family.
When his words finally registered, her mouth dropped open in indignation. ‘Hey, I kept this weekend a secret from you, didn’t I?’
A wry smile crossed Oliver’s lips as he brought them down on Fallon’s. ‘That you did, Pooh.’
She beamed. She’d gone to a lot of effort trying to get this trip perfect for him. Including the giant cake he hadn’t even seen yet. Seeing him appreciate everything she did, and the very essence of who she was, settled something deep in my soul. It brought an unbidden ache in the pit of my stomach. I reached out my hand to George, who still held the tequila, and gulped down several shots of the bitter liquid.
The night went on and several rounds of shots were taken, enough that I had a light buzz going. At some point during the evening, I shifted out of George’s lap and moved to the chair beside him. I blamed the alcohol for making me extra horny, but feeling his hard body pressed so close to mine was not helping me keep a clear head. Add into the factthat he smelt like fresh air and clean clothes, my underwear was ready to disintegrate if I stayed there much longer.
Fallon tapped Oliver on the arm, asking him to relinquish her. When he only tightened his hold and pretended not to understand English, she whispered something in his ear and he dropped his arms immediately. I don’t want to know what kind of sexual favour she just promised, the shit-eating grin on his face said enough.
The boys were chatting about the latest rugby season, passing the bottle of tequila back and forth. Fallon skirted around the fire and dragged the spare chair next to mine.
‘Hey, pretty girl,’ she said, sinking down into the chair.
I smiled softly at her and shifted my chair closer so my head could rest on her shoulder.
‘I hate sports,’ I mumbled, watching Oliver and George get more animated by the minute. Talking about a bad call the ref made.
Fallon huffed out a muted laugh. ‘I think I’m in it for life now.’ I tilted my head back to look at her. She stared at Oliver like she’d found a pot of gold.
‘It’s only been a year,’ I grunted.
Her shoulder lifted in a small shrug. The breathless quality to her voice made my heart seize. ‘I know.’
My head popped up. Irrational panic taking hold. ‘Wait, are you guys getting engaged?’
Her eyes grew wide. She clasped a hand over my mouth. ‘Okay, inside voices please.’
I licked her palm, making her pull away and wipe in on her thigh with a grimace.
‘We’re outside,’ I replied petulantly. ‘And are you seriously already thinking about marriage?’
I shifted in the deck chair. She avoided my gaze, twisting her fingers around in her lap. ‘I guess… I don’t know. Things are good right now, but the longer we’re together, I guess I can’t help but think about the future.’
The laugh that left me was short and held no trace of humour. ‘So a ring and babies.’
‘You don’t need to make it sound like a death sentence.’ She frowned. ‘And I didn’t say anything about kids.’
‘You will though, won’t you? Get married, have a bunch of kids and live in a mansion somewhere.’
A rare spark of anger flashed across her face. ‘Where the fuck is this coming from? All I said was that I’m probably going to be listening to him talk about sports for life. I didn’t mention marriage or babies.’
The conversation that had been happening not three feet from us went eerily quiet.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh, I ran a hand through my hair. ‘Not yet.’
