‘Rory!’ Fin’s eyes are wide as she delivers her chastisement. Not that this stops him.
‘Seriously, it’d bring a tear to your eye. I reckon our mother must’ve spent his formative years pulling him from the bathtub by his cock.’
‘Oh my God.’ Elbows on the table, Fin buries her face in hands.
‘That’s the only explanation for it. It’s obscene—that’s probably why he can’nae wear off the rack.’
‘Stop. Please stop! This is so inappropriate,’ Fin mumbles as she lifts her head. Even in the soft lighting, her cheeks are an obvious and uncomfortable pink.
She’s also not looking at me. Studiously so.
‘But that’s Rory.’ Picking up my glass, I drain the last of my own wine.
‘Has he always been like this?’ It’s amusing how quick she looks away.
‘I’m afraid so,’ I reply. ‘He’s probably a wee bit worse around you. I’d say it’s something to do with the way you blush.’ As expected, her cheeks deepen with that charming rosy hue. It’s not hard to see why Rory’s so into her. She’s intelligentandbeautiful—the former something he’s never taken much interest in up until now. She’s a curious mixture of vulnerability and strength. Rory’s smitten, no doubt, and for the very first time.
And I’m not going to wonder how far that blush goes.
Also studiously so.
‘You’re bloody beautiful.’ There’s a touch of wonder in my brother’s voice, and as Fin lowers her hand, her gaze glides to his like silk. The look that passes between the pair is so intimate and raw that I’m forced to look away.
I catch the eye of a passing waiter and successfully order Macallan for Rory and myself and brandy for Fin. And I probably catch his eye in more ways than one if the way his gaze flicks over me is any indication. It’s not a blatant look but a speculative one.
‘You should give him your number.’ I turn from the waiter’s slim shoulders and retreating form, expecting to be greeted by a knowing look, a raised brow, a teasing smile, or a combination of all three from my twin. Unusually, I get none of those. Instead, an earnest faced Rory stares back at me. It’s disconcerting. And annoying as shit. ‘Or you could take his?’
‘Why would I want to do that?’ My face is impassive, but my answer is pure sneer.
‘Because no man is an island, brother. We all need a little love.’
‘Get some original lines,’ I reply impassively, hiding my annoyance. I’m not interested in screwing the waiter, and he has no idea of my very particular proclivities.Because you never let anyone in; you just let them assume.Unsettled as much by my thoughts as his words, my fingers reach for my glass only to find it drained.Shit.I know what I’ll be faced with when I eventually look at him. Yep, that smug fucking expression because he knows he’s gotten under my skin.
‘You know—Fuck!’ Suddenly, he’s leaping from his chair.
‘Oh, babe, I’m so sorry!’ On her feet now, too, Fin begins dabbing her napkin against the dark stain spreading across his tailored grey pants. ‘I must’ve knocked my water glass with my elbow.’
‘Really?’ he replies, laughing and adjusting the damp fabric from his crotch. ‘You might want to stop rubbing there, titch.’ He takes her hands in his. ‘Or there might be another reason for my trousers being wet.’
‘Rory Tremaine,’ she chides with a gasp—a gasp tinged with laughter and feigned feminine shock. ‘You’re so dirty!’
‘Aye, so you told me last night.’ His eyes gleam with mirth as she stares up at him like she can’t quite believe what he’s just said. ‘Not with quite the same intonation but your mouth was open. A little like it is now, as I recall.’ He tilts his head to the side, his mouth fighting a massive fucking grin.
‘Do I need to make you an appointment with my friend the urologist, Rory?’ A tall blonde slides into the empty chair next to me, her voice husky and her tone teasing as her large purse hits the floor with a respondingthunk.‘Incontinence at your age is a worry. You’re sure you want to move in with him?’ Her facial expressions are a curious mixture of false pity and disgust, though the sparkle in her gaze belies pure mischief.
‘Nothing’s wrong with my pipes,’ Rory scoffs.
‘There’s no shame in it,’ she says, her gaze sliding to his wet pants pointedly. ‘Maybe I should book you in for a prostate exam, too? Though he might like it too much from what I’ve heard. Those bedroom walls are thin. What do you think?’ she asks, turning her attention to Fin.
‘I think you should stop teasing him.’
‘Me?’ She touches her tanned collarbone with the tips of her fingers, bringing attention to the dusting of freckles there. ‘I was merely offering sympathy to the man who just experienced a very embarrassing accident in view of the patrons of this fine dining establishment.’
‘Stop that,’ Fin chides, swiping her napkin at the blonde. ‘Kit, I don’t believe you’ve met Bea, my friend.’
Bea. The roommate? She’s definitelynotthe ugly friend.Compared to Fin, she’s tall—maybe five-foot-eight or nine? Her honey blonde hair is pulled into some sort of messy knot on the top of her head, and she wears nothing more than a lick of mascara as far as makeup goes. Maybe a little lipstick? It’s hard to tell if her lips are ordinarily that pink or if they’re flushed from the outdoors. And her eyes? They’re something. Brown with flecks of honey to match her hair.
Was she a dentist, did Fin say? Something medical, at any rate.
