I cleared my throat. “What are friends for, right?”
“Yeah. Friends.” She looked up at me over her shoulder. Her hair fell over her other shoulder, giving me a clear and unobstructed look at her throat. I wanted to taste her skin and make a slow trail of kisses up her neck.
I moved my gaze from her throat to her hazel eyes. Didshe want me to kiss her as badly as I wanted to? The way that her eyes bore into me made me think yes. Her eyes roamed from my lips to my eyes. She turned to face me and set her hand on my chest and fingered the thin black tie around my neck. She slid her other hand up my pec, stopping over my heart. I knew she could feel the way it beat hard and erratically because of her. Birdie brought her eyes back up to mine and when she did, she sucked in that full bottom lip and bit it.
God, I want that lip in my mouth.
I threaded my fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. I bent down for our mouths to meet, her lips parting, waiting for mine.
A loud bang went off above us. We both jumped back.
“What the fuck was that?” Birdie exclaimed.
I looked up to see blue, green, and white sparks raining down over the glass roof of the greenhouse.
“Fireworks.”
“Of course.” She let out a soft laugh.
“We should get back up there,” I said.
We exited the greenhouse and wended our way through the holly maze and up through the garden as the fireworks continued. I stopped right before the last arch of the red berries. Birdie turned around and looked at me quizzically.
I cleared my throat. “I think maybe you should head up the terrace first and I’ll wait. I don’t want anyone to question you.”
Her brow arched. “What is this, the 1700s? Will my honor and virtue come into question?” She tried to play it off as a quip, but fire laced her tone.
“There is a lot of press here tonight, and we know that they aren’t the best at reporting the truth. You don’t need them publishing another shit article—and God knows what they would say about Oliver and you. I wouldn’t want him toquestion your loyalty to the competition. Better you just walk the rest of the way by yourself.”
She considered my words as she looked down at her hands and messed with the lining of her gloves.
“You’re a good man, Knox.” She looked up at me. “He’s so lucky to have a friend like you.”
I nodded. I so badly wanted to grab her hand and walk her those last few yards. I wanted more than anything to tell her not to continue with all of this. To move here for me instead. To be with me instead. But that’s not who I was, and that wasn’t my story. This was about Oliver’s happily ever after, not mine.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please make your way inside. The results of the auction will be read in just a few short minutes,” the night’s emcee spoke over the loudspeakers.
I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and downed it in two gulps. I knew I was about to be thoroughly embarrassed when my name wasn’t read, because who would even bid and want to spend time with me?
Absolutely no one.
“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you,” Oliver asked from behind me.
“The Thornes’ landscaper was showing me the gardens. We were talking about potential plans for spring.”
“Mhm,” Oliver murmured, taking a sip from his glass of champagne.
Vince walked up to us. “Have you guys seen Birdie? Bronson was asking where she went but I can’t find her.”
Shit. Play it cool. I know she’s here; I watched her walk back into theparty.
“I talked to her about an hour ago, but haven’t seen her since, now that you mention it,” Oliver answered.
“What about you?” Vince asked.
“Nope. Haven’t seen her,” I lied.
Oliver looked at me quizzically in my peripheral vision. Did he know that I was lying? Had he seen us in the greenhouse somehow?Fuck.
