‘It’s okay, Car. I think you’re having too much fun to interrupt.’
‘Nope.’ Cara jumped off the swing, almost falling onto the grass as she did so. ‘Please be my guest. It’s a family tradition.’
Sean laughed. ‘Mum bought that swing last summer.’
‘Aye, so it was ready for the first lot of newlyweds. You’re technically the second, but I’m sure Cal and Bea are having fun on a swing of their own on Mustique. Anyway, please…’ Cara held her hand out as if presenting the swing to Sean and Cherry as a wedding gift. ‘Be my guest.’
‘I’m game. Come on, Sean.’ Cherry hauled him up. ‘We can’t break family tradition.’
‘Exactly,’ chimed Cara. ‘Thank you for not being stubborn like my brother. Sean, you sit first, and Cherry, you sit on his knee.’
‘Jesus, Car, you’re not planning on working as an intimacy coordinator, are you?’ Sean asked. ‘Your manner might need some refining.’
‘No, but what a great idea. I’ll let you get comfy, and then we’ll get started on the photos.’
Sean stopped short of gracing his sister with a response, but he got on the swing.
‘You don’t have to sit on my knee.’ He steadied Cherry with confident hands on her hips as she climbed on, too, the swing lurching in response to the shifting body weight.
But Cherry lowered herself onto his lap, onto her husband’s thick, solid thighs – possibly a little too pleasant a place to sit when in the presence of his family. She had not thought this through at all.
Still, she was in it now. She curled her hand around his neck and spoke lowly enough so that only Sean could hear.
‘Madly in love, Seany. A madly in love wife would sit on her husband’s knee.’
‘If you say so, sweetheart.’ He looked up at her with a roguish glint that made her fantasise about being both a good wife and a naughty wife.
God, he smelled so delicious up close. His scent knocked her sideways as much as it had at the wedding in New York. The warm skin, redolent of Scottish summer evenings – of spicy whisky kisses, stealing into wooded glades and slinking behind oak trees for delicious, illicit moments.
‘Careful what you’re doing with those fingers, Paradise.’
Unaware she was trailing her fingers up and down the back of Sean’s neck, Cherry stalled.
‘Sorry.’
‘No need to apologise.’ His voice rumbled low enough to be audible only to her. ‘You know I like it.’
‘I thought we weren’t flirting anymore.’
Sean placed his hand on her knee, moved it up her leg a fraction. ‘I’m a man, you’re hotter than the sun and you’re practically sitting on my cock.’ He stared robotically at his family as he said these words, checking that none of them were listening. They all seemed occupied with their ownchatter, and Cara had gone to get a charging cable for her phone.
‘Okay, darling. I’m sorry.’ Cherry’s words bubbled with sweetness. ‘I’ll keep my hands safe in my lap from now on. And when I say lap, I mean down by my knees, not on my pussy.’ She affected a sweet, feminine laugh.
‘Cherry, fucking hell.’ Sean’s mouth barely moved as he growled these words. ‘This is a family fucking gathering. Mind your language.’
‘Sean, you started it. And stop saying “fucking” so much. It’s a family fucking gathering.’
The full-beam smile that spread across Sean’s face at this interchange was like a shot to Cherry’s heart. God, he was gorgeous, and hard-wired to her mind. Unable to resist, her mouth fell to his.
Just for a moment.
And there it was again, that feeling of being right where she was meant to be. How could a man’s lips feel so much like home? The soft warmth of his breath on her skin making her so conscious of the beating heart of this man. And his craftsman’s hands skimming her waist – hands that would protect but that also wanted to explore, to claim her.
All of this spoken silently in the seconds of a small kiss.
A family gathering kiss. Giving them what they wanted. Clean and presentable.
Enough for a million sparks, though. Enough for a small groan, audible only to the person closest, to escape from Sean’s throat.
