“Through here, apparently.” I push open an ancient-looking gate that leads to a courtyard of ancient cobblestone.
“It’s kind of atmospheric,” Ryan murmurs, her eyes shining in the moonlight.
“If byatmosphericyou mean as spooky as shit, yeah.”
“Oh!”
“Careful.” I catch her as she wobbles, heels and cobblestones not being the best combination. “Can I?” I don’t really wait as I settle my arm around her back. My heart stills, lifting in its cavity as she slides me a soft smile and leans into me.
In that instant, I see us forty years from now. My arms still around her for practicality. For safety. For love. And always because of her tempting curves.
“Was that your stomach?” she asks, half laughing.
“It was singing to you.” Her expression is so feckin’ cute. “And I’m starvin’.”
“You’re always hungry.”
Hungry for you.“Yeah, but right now, I’m so hungry I’d eat the arse off a low-flying seagull.”
A door opens as we approach, and music pours out. Soft jazz and a song about love and dancing cheek to cheek.
As we enter, I can’t help but smile. “I can see Evie booked this.”
“That’s Oliver’s wife, right?”
“Yeah.”Don’t look so nervous, darlin’. They’re gonna love you because I do.“She’s a vet,” I say. “Animal mad. That’s probably how she ended up with him, come to think of it.”
“Because he’s an animal?” Her expression turns doubtful.
“As wily as a wolf. You’ll like him.”
“And Fin? What’s he like.”
“Ah, well, you’ll like him more. He’s like a golden retriever. Maybe a handsome Lab? Once upon a time, pre-Mila, he’d probably have had a go at humping your leg.”
“The reformed playboy,” she asserts, amusement filling her tone. “The wolf and the pooch. What does that make you?”
I give a shrug. “A horny toad?”
With a soft laugh, she slides her arm through mine. “Does that mean I need to kiss you to get my prince?”
“Stick with the toad that’s really a lizard.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Much sexier, I think. Especially with all that tongue action.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Her words are heavy with warning.
“What, this?” I make a lewd gesture. Gene Simmons has nothing on me.
God, I want this too. A lifetime of her telling me no and laughing anyway.Of course that would be the moment the hostess appears. Blond hair pulled back in a sparkly scarf, slacks, a white shirt, and spats, of all things, on her feet. I’m sensing a theme.
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she murmurs, pretending to have missed my oral air sex.
Sucks to be her.
“Table for Maven,” I say with a give-no-fucks assurance and a mile-wide grin.
