Page 42 of One More Shot
‘How many weddings have you been to?’ he asks, stretching his legs out in front of us.
‘As a guest or…’
He shrugs. ‘Just in general.’
I lean backwards and my hand brushes against his. It’s not quite electricity that shoots through my veins at the contact, it’s more like an unexplainable warmth that starts at the tip of my fingers and spreads like wildfire through me.
I snatch my hand back and stare determinedly at the setting sun. ‘Probably coming up to about two hundred now,’ I murmur. Beside me, I feel Dane shift slightly but I don’t look. ‘Why?’
He clicks his tongue and even without seeing his face, I can easily picture the teasing grin that’s curving his lips right now. ‘Let me know what you think about this opener for my best man speech.’ He clears his throat dramatically. ‘The Oxford Dictionary defines love as—’
‘Absolutelynot.’ A cackle splutters out of me and I finally turn to look at him. I was right. He’s grinning down at me. One of his locs has fallen out of the bun he keeps them in and my fingers twitch to reach forward and slide it back into place.
‘You don’t like it? I thought it was a pretty good opener.’
‘If you start your speech with that, I’ll drag you out of the wedding myself.’
‘That doesn’t sound too bad,’ Dane laughs, a teasing glint in his eyes. ‘Depending onwhereyou’re dragging me, of course.’
And here we are again. I should start timing how long it takes for Dane to bring a harmless conversation back into flirting territory.
‘How about straight into the Ligurian Sea?’ I ask, refusing to take the bait.
My reluctance to engage doesn’t seem to bother him at all. His grin widens fractionally. ‘Will you be joining me?’
‘Can’t swim,’ I throw back.
‘That’s fine.’ Something flashes in his eyes. ‘I can hold you.’
That gets a snort out of me. ‘Love the enthusiasm, but—’
‘But what?’ Dane looks me up and down slowly through hooded eyes. At some point during this back and forth, we’ve shifted slightly and the space between us is minimal. ‘If you’re about to say that you don’t think I can handle holding you up—’ He leans in and suddenly there’s barelyan inch between us. ‘I didn’t have any problem with it two years ago, and I definitely don’t now.’
Memories flash through my mind.
Dane holding me up against the wall, peppering my neck with soft, wet kisses. Me, pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top. The little groan that fell from his lips as he gripped my still hovering thighs and pulled me firmly down onto him with no hesitation. The way his dick, hard and wanting, felt pressed against my thighs.
The grin on his face is irritatingly self-assured as he pulls away and I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that the memories replaying in his mind right now are identical to mine.
‘Do you like making this wholefriendsthing difficult?’ I ask, because there’s no point in pretending like he can’t plainly see what’s written across my face.
His smile doesn’t waver. ‘It is fun,’ he concedes. ‘And I like making you blush.’
‘I don’t blush.’
‘Hm.’ He reaches over, closes the gap between us again, and runs a thumb along my cheek.
I’ve noticed that he likes doing that. Holding my face with a tenderness that always surprises me. I don’t think anyone’s ever held me like that before.
‘Your cheeks are warm,’ he murmurs before he pulls away. ‘I think that’s the very definition of a blush.’
‘Maybe it’s my turn to make you blush.’
‘Shoot.’
There are a lot of things I could say right now. I could follow his lead and lean into the flirtatious rhythm we’ve struck up tonight. I’m doubtful that it would make him blush, but I’m pretty sure he’d enjoy it.
There’s a quip on the tip of my tongue when something else jumps into the forefront of my mind. ‘How come you haven’t brought Cash here?’ I ask, instinctively voicing the question that’s been ruminating in my mind for the last month or so.
