Page 123 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
“Look at you,” I wave my hand up and down. “You know how they go when you look all ruggish and…”
“Sexy?” He offers.
“I hate that word.”
He cocks his head. “But if you didn’t would you say I was?”
“You’re just fishing for it now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You know you are!”
Frowns, leans on the counter, folds his arms across his bare chest. “Know I’m what?”
“Shut up.”
“Just say it!”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the way I feel about that word is the same as the word ‘moist’.”
He scrunches his face up. “Never say that again?”
“What? Moist?” I tilt my head. “Why? I love that word—”
Arthur goes to grab me but I jump down from the cabinet and go running through the living room and out onto the deck. He comes after me, catches me from behind, starts attacking my sides.
“Stop!” I scream, wriggling. “I’m going to wee!”
“Oh, hello.”
We both stop, Arthur puts me down, George stands there, hands on hips. “Not interrupting, am I?”
I stand there, trying not to laugh. “No.”
He raises his eyebrows at Arthur. He shrugs. “No.”
George squints at us, sort of tilts his head. Arthur reaches around, squeezes the back of my neck and I collapse into more fits of nauseating laughter.
George clears his throat, nods at Arthur. “Need you for a minute.”
“Why?” I ask.
Arthur goes serious then, completely polar opposite of how he was just a few seconds ago. “It’s nothing.”
I step in front of him, my back to George. “You better not be getting involved with them.”
He rolls his eyes. “Obviously I’m not.”
“Hm.”
He flashes me a quick smile, bends down, pecks a small kiss on the side of my mouth and then walks off, his hand sliding around my waist until he’s too far away to touch me anymore.
Makes me feel warm.
