He chuckled softly. “The fireworks will start in an hour or so. I think you’ll like them.”
Sorrell nodded, feeling a little awkward. “Did you know that the word bonfire comes from bone fire? That fires were always held at this time of year and they’d burn the bones of the animals that had died. It was part to get rid of the parasites from the farm animals—they’d drive livestock between two bone fires and the acrid smoke would act as a pesticide—but also a way of helping the cycle of life.”
This time his grin was wider, teasing and she felt her cheeks burn hotter.
“Were you the geeky girl at school who knew all the random facts?” Zack folded his arms, causing muscles to visibly bunch.
She looked to the ground. “I still am the geeky girl. I’m great at pub quizzes though.”
“Did you get asked a lot to help boys with their assignments?”
She felt his eyes stick to her and knew without looking that he was still smiling. “I did. I wasthatstudent.”
She felt his arm around her shoulders and then his body pressed close. “Sorrell, the boys weren’t asking you to help because of your brains. They would’ve just been a bonus.”
Her head tipped up to look at him. There was no teasing look on his face; he wasn’t making fun of her.
“Shall we get some food?” She wanted to change the subject. “Or if you want to see your friends, I’ll sort myself out.”
“Why don’t you come and meet Scott and Alex before the fireworks start? And we’ll both get some supper.”
His arm stayed around her as they walked back inside to where she saw his two brothers. One looked relaxed and fairly chilled as he sipped at a pint. The other, the one with the beard who she knew to be Scott, looked fairly grumpy.
“Is he doing a good job of keeping you warm?” Jake said as they got closer, looking pointedly at Zack’s arm.
Sorrell glanced at Zack to read his reaction. They had come here as kind of friends, or even enemies who signed a peace treaty. It wasn’t a date. She didn’t date, didn’t want to. Not after Mark.
“He’s like a radiator,” she said, trying to keep from sounding like one of the teenage girls they’d been standing close to. “And it’s cold out there.”
“You want some more hot cider?” Zack said, his hand dropping from near her shoulders to her back, still touching.
She felt embarrassed, feeling as if she was being judged for being with him, a bit like one of Mark’s female friends had done when she’d asked how Sorrell had managed to snare someone like Mark.
But these were grown men. And she was an adult, not a kid anymore. She remembered the techniques she taught children who were anxious or scared and applied one to herself.
“I’ll go.” She stepped away. “Do you want another?”
“Sure.” His arm finally dropped. “If Marian serves you, make sure she doesn’t give you half measures.”
Sorrell gave him a smile and moved away, needing a breath or three hundred away from him so she could collect her thoughts.
Chapter 6
Zack found himself watching the redhead as she moved towards the makeshift bar, ignoring the sarcastic comment Scott was trying to make. He hadn’t intended bringing her to the bonfire to feel like a date, but it did and he couldn’t place why.
Well, he could, but he wasn’t sure how he’d let it happen.
She was stunning really. Long wavy chestnut hair and creamy skin, slim hips and a neat backside he wanted to pinch. Fuck, he wanted to do a lot more than pinch. The images he’d had flicker through his head had been enough to light the bonfire by themselves. Now he wasn’t mad at her he was finding her attractive. Hot. And his brothers would catch onto that quickly, if they hadn’t done already.
Unless he could find a distraction.
“Keren,” he shouted over to the town dentist. He gestured for her to come over. She looked grumpy and harassed, a potent antidote to the shit Scott was probably about to spout.
“For fuck’s sake,” Scott moaned. “Why did you have to bring her over?” He was hardly quiet about it.
“She’s Sorrell’s friend.” Zack glared at him. “And I don’t know why you have to be so fucking rude to her.”
Scott turned his head away, muttering something unintelligible.
