“He’s—” How do I explain this? “He’s recently divorced. He still has some loose ends to tie up, but—”
“Loose ends?”
I glance over to check that Cat and Alex are still in the booth. “Yeah. He hasn’t told everyone he’s divorced yet.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, um…” I stall, thinking. I can’t very well tell him about the wedding situation, can I? “That’s the complicated part.”
Geoff’s brow furrows in a frown. When he catches my worried expression, he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. It’s probably nothing.”
Unease threads through me. “Geoff, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Well…” He hesitates, holding his breath, then exhales. “I find it strange that he’s divorced, but hasn’t told everyone.”
“He has a good reason. And… he will. It’s just not the right time.”
“Right,” Geoff says, unconvinced. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but surely, if he likes you as much as you like him,nowwould be the right time? Why would he want to hide what he has with you? I know you said this is just a casual thing or whatever, but you do seem to be quite… invested. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
A pitcher appears on the bar in front of us. “Strawberry rosé mojitos,” the brunette bartender says. Her green eyes are bright with a smile.
“Great! Thanks, Josie.” Geoff takes the pitcher then turns back to me, his face softening. “Look, I’m sure it’s fine. If you say he has a good reason, then…” He shrugs, nodding towards the others. “Come on. Let’s have a drink.”
I watch him head to the booth, my gut twisting like a rag. I know what Geoff is saying and it makes sense. But… Luke isn’t hidingmeso much as he is keeping up appearances to placate his father. After the wedding, all that will be over. He still has to tell his family, of course, but hewilltell them, I know that. He won’t pretend to be married forever, otherwise why would he suggest I move to New York?
“Harriet!” Alex calls.
I scuttle over to the booth, shoving Geoff’s words away. It might have only been a couple of weeks, but I know Luke. I know this is not something I need to worry about.
30
The door thuds closed behind us and I expel a long, relieved breath.
We arefinallyat Luke and Michael’s family cabin after a four and a half hour drive through torrential rain. It wasn’t so much the drive or the weather that was the problem, it was that I couldn’t have my hands on Luke while he was driving. Every time I leaned across to kiss him or touch him, he batted me away. When he caught my hurt expression he explained that hewantedme to touch him but I probably shouldn’t, in case he careened off the road and killed us both. I guess that’s a justifiable reason, but still.
I turn to Luke impatiently, thrusting my hands up into his damp hair and pulling his mouth down onto mine. He drops the bags he’s carrying and laughs against my lips, setting his hands on my waist and walking me backwards towards the bedroom. As he drags my sweater up, I shiver in the cool air.
“Okay,” he says, drawing away from me. “We will enjoy this a lot more if we’re warm.”
I pout and his cheek twitches with a suppressed smile.
“Why don’t you unpack the groceries while I make a fire, then we can,you know.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner like a cartoon character, which earns him a giggle.
“Fine.” I waited four and a half hours, what’s a few minutes more?
Agony, that’s what.
I tear my hands off him with a long-suffering sigh and pad over to the kitchen, looking around the cabin. It has big round log walls, high peaked ceilings, and a stone fireplace in the main living area. There’s a comfy sofa and two armchairs, and a small kitchen with wooden cabinetry and simple wooden bench tops.
I unpack the groceries, listening to the rain whip against the windows. I’m not sure what we’ll do if it doesn’t ease up; the wedding ceremony is supposed to be outside. I make a mental note to secure an alternative location first thing in the morning if it’s still raining. That way, Alex can rest assured that everything will still go ahead.
It only takes me a few moments to unpack and when I’m done I head back into the bedroom, looking for Luke. He said he was going to make a fire, but he hasn’t been out to the living room. Why is he—
Oh. There’s a fireplace in the bedroom and he’s kneeling in front of it, coaxing little flames across the kindling, staring into it thoughtfully. Damn, he looks sexy making a fire. He’s pushed back the sleeves of his sweater to expose those delectable arms of his, and when he places another log onto the growing flames, it sets off some kind of primal response in my brain. Next thing I know I’m beside him, pulling him up so I can get his lips on mine again.
“Can I have you now?” I ask, trying and failing to keep the desperation out of my voice. My fingers find their way to his forearms and stroke over the muscle, squeezing gently. “Fuck,” I groan as I feel the tendons flex under my fingertips. Who needs foreplay when I can just do this?
He looks down at where I’m touching him and his mouth hooks into a sinful grin. Then he nudges me back onto the bed, climbing over me. “Take your hair down,” he growls, and I immediately obey.
