He grinned wickedly. “We might have created an obstacle course. Your dad might not be happy with what’s happened to the spare tyres for the sit-on mower.”
“Do you never grow up?” I prodded his chest, hitting the solid muscle beneath the material and I felt a clench deep within me.
He lay down on his stomach next to me, stretching out. “It’s such a warm day. I hear we’re barbecuing later.”
“Simone is. Or she’s going to try to tell my dad and Maxwell what to do. That will also be the entertainment. You can’t be hungry already though.” I eyed him suspiciously.
“That was some obstacle course and I didn’t have breakfast. I can wait though. What are you reading?” He picked up my book and started to have a look. “Did you buy this the other day?”
I nodded, closing my eyes and enjoying the sun. “It was from Cases. I haven’t been cheating on you with other book stores, don’t worry.”
There was a chuckle and some rustling of material. I had a feeling that if I opened my eyes, I’d see a semi-naked man and I wasn’t quite sure how I would deal with that without needing to lick him.
“I get the feeling you’re a little more loyal than that.”
“Stupidly so. I use the same brand of make-up even when there’s a better deal on another type.” My eyes were still closed.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. Good choice of book, by the way. Not your usual read?”
I picked up a copy ofThe World Broke in Two, a non-fiction biopic about Virginia Woolf, T. S. Eliot and a couple of other authors.
“Occasionally I read something other than romance and crime. I read a lot of Virginia Woolf back in school and Eliot as part of my course, so this was something I was interested in. Have you read it?” I asked, finally opening my eyes and seeing him sitting cross legged and bare chested. I bit my lips together hard to stop myself from saying something inappropriate, given that most of my family were nearby.
“Not yet. It’s on the to be read pile though, which is bigger than the Empire State at this point,” he said. “I need a holiday. Somewhere hot where I can sit by a pool and read all day and have someone bring me bottles of beer with little umbrellas in them.”
I spluttered at the picture. “Why beer and not cocktails?”
He flexed his pecs so the muscles moved. “Not manly enough.”
“I’m not sure you have any trouble needing to be more manly.”
“Is that a compliment, Ms Callaghan? I’m man enough for you?” His eyes danced and his grin was pure smoulder.
“Stop it. Else they’ll think we’re more than friends,” I said quietly, noticing that the eyes of most of my brothers and Ava (who had just arrived) were on us.
His smile this time was knowing. “Payton, there’s nothing about this that’sjustfriends. You know that, right?”
I turned onto my back and shielded my eyes from the sun, my glasses out of reach. “I know.”
“Thank God for that,” he said, watching me like I was food that had already been marinated and barbecued. “But I get you don’t want to go full on into one of those sickeningly sweet relationships like you read about in your favourite genre.”
My twin decided now was a brilliant time to come over with a couple of beers. “Mum’s making pitchers of margaritas for those who are allowed alcohol. Safety warning: don’t go near Claire.” He pointed towards our eldest sister who was clearly trying to instigate a law about no one else being able to drink if she couldn’t and not getting a great deal of support. “Killian has threatened to lock her in the snug if she carries on. Apparently, she can’t get out of there. I didn’t ask how he knew. That was something I didn’t want to have therapy for.” He sat down next to me and yet again I wondered how he’d ended up with no idea how to read people. “That looks like a proper book you’re reading, Payts. Not your usual sexfests.”
I shook my head. “You could learn a lot from what’s in those books, Joseph. You’d pick up some tips.”
“Don’t need any. I’m such a sex god I have a waiting list of women.”
“A waiting list of women to do what? Castrate you, to save the disappointment of the next?”
He glared, stood up and gave me the finger. “You’re not worth my time. Jackson!” And then he bounced, Tigger-like, over to the barbecue where Jacks was standing, beer in hand, inspecting the huge metal thing that was allegedly being used to ensure we didn’t receive food poisoning.
“Back to what we were saying,” Owen leaned back, his chest looking golden from the sun already.
I figured that the obstacle course had been done shirtless and was now sorry I’d missed it.
“Your favourite genre,” Owen clarified.
I took a swig of beer. “I read romance books. And? I don’t have anything lacking from my life. I have a wonderful family, good friends and a fulfilling career. I don’t need Mr Romance to sweep me off my feet and into bed.”
