Page 33 of Breathless

Fiona stared at Thoreau, and then Wyatt, with a question in her eyes. She looked as though she couldn’t quite decide what was going on but was determined to play along.

Leaning forward, she pressed her closed lips to his chastely.

He grumbled when she tried to pull away and cupped the back of her neck with his free hand. “That’s not a real hello.”

He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, tempting her with the spicy flavor of Thoreau’s creation until she opened her mouth for him. Tilting his head, he kissed her deep, groaning softly when she sucked lightly on his tongue and nipped his lower lip before backing away.

“Hello,” she said softly.

“Hello, Fiona.”

She licked her lips and smiled at Thoreau, who was watching silently. “Wyatt’s right. It tastes good.”

Thoreau gave her a look of sensual approval, and she cleared her throat. Wyatt had to admit the man had game, if he could get Fiona flustered with just a look.

And your assist, man. You did kiss her first.

That made him feel better.

“So why are we having a party in the first place?” she asked him.

“Wyatt got his bill of health from the doctor and can start working out and getting back to normal again. I’m creating another brewing masterpiece. You’re here.” Thoreau leaned back on the pillows and finished off his beer. “We figured it was about time we got to know each other better, so we’re sharing stories.”

She swallowed hard, looking anywhere but at either of them. Yup, definitely flustered. He wasn’t used to seeing her like this.

“You’ve been sharing stories without me?” She tossed back her juice like it was a shot of whisky. “I love stories. Any topic in particular?”

Wyatt snorted. “Mostly firsts and embarrassing kid shit. Now I know that I was right about him being class president and king nerd in middle school.”

“And I know more about the pranks he played in high school and his favorite sock.”

Wyatt picked up a stuffed date and aimed it at him threateningly. “We’re not talking about that sock again. Ever.”

“Okay, this sounds fun,” Fiona said with a relieved grin. “Please, don’t stop on my account.”

Thoreau reached up to push a few strands of hair back behind her ear, and Wyatt saw her shiver of awareness. “We weren’t planning on it. But you have to join in. Those are the rules. We all share.”

She held her breath for a moment, looking wary. “I’m in.”

Wyatt frowned. She wasn’t reacting the way they’d expected. She loved talking about feelings, right? She seemed fine with the level of sexual tension in the air, just not the sharing. At least, not when it came to her sharing.

What was that about?

“I think it was my turn,” Thoreau said into the silence. “I’ve already told you both enough about my sisters to be in trouble, so we’re moving on to brothers now. It’s pretty boring, honestly. Other than all four of us going through a phase where we hated being named for famous authors in history, we were normal. Robert had a lot of friends, so he was gone most of the time. I hung with my sisters, but occasionally Emerson would join Austen and me in our basement lab of horrors and we’d nearly blow the house up. By accident, obviously.”

“And now she has her own line of beauty products and you’re taking over the beer world.” Fiona raised what was left of her pineapple juice. “To Cassandra Wayne,” she toasted their mother. “For surviving your childhood.”

“Hear, hear,” Thoreau replied with an amused grin.

“Emerson is the dad?” Wyatt asked. “The one who’s always got one eye on his two boys?”

“He probably knows from experience how much trouble they can get into,” Fiona said, smiling when Thoreau nodded in emphatic agreement. “What about Hugo? What was he like before he became super cop, wonder nurse and soother of the savage Younger?”

“Clever,” Thoreau answered without hesitation. “Nice and thoughtful and really, insanely clever. He spent most of his time with Bronte when we were growing up, so it’s kind of funny that they both ended up marrying your relatives, Wyatt. Speaking of, she texted me a new picture of Baby Wilde. She can’t seem to get over his freckles.”

“Yeah, well William can’t get over his magical sperm.”

Fiona choked on her juice, reaching for a napkin and staring at Wyatt in shock. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

---