Page 39 of The Honeymoon Hack
But I couldn’t look away. The way his biceps flexed as he picked up a mug. The definition in his calves as he shifted his weight. The Will who’d left for London had been fit, but this was something else entirely. Had I genuinely not noticed?
Or had I stopped myself from noticing?
I took a slow sip of juice, but barely tasted it. Should have gotten coffee. Something to blame for the way my pulse kickedup. Those arms had been around me this morning. One under my head, the other draped across my waist. His chest against my spine, our breathing in perfect sync. The way he’d said my name, his voice rough with sleep, when I’d tried sneaking away.
Warmth flooded through me, and I crossed my legs to fend off the building pressure. What had he been dreaming about? Because his cock had been hard against my ass, and god, the way my body had responded?—
Jesus, Brie, stop it. Focus on literally anything else.
But my eyes remained locked on him as he added milk to his coffee. With a yawn, he reached for a second mug, pouring coffee into it, too. Two sugars and a splash of milk. Exactly how I took it. Even half-asleep, he was?—
“—don’t you think, Brie?”
I blinked. Claire had asked me something. Heat crawled up my cheeks as I turned back to the conversation. “What? Sorry, I?—”
“I was saying to Pierre,” Claire gestured with her fork, her grin widening, “I want someone to look at me the way you look at your husband.”
Shit. Had I been that obvious?
“Speaking of looks,” Rav interjected smoothly, drawing Claire’s attention back to him, “the tattoo work on your arm is impressive. Is it original art or adapted from something?”
Thank god for Rav and his diversion.
Though he’d definitely caught me staring. Great. The last thing I needed was one more person insisting there was something else going on between me and my best friend.
Best friend, Brie. That’s it.
Claire started into a story about her sleeve tattoo but paused mid-sentence, turning back to me. “Will has a lot of tattoos on his arms. Is it all blackwork?”
“Yeah.” I glanced in his direction, then back at Claire. This was why I was a good partner for this job. I knew his tattoos as well as if they were my own. “Just on his arms and up around his shoulder.”
I’d been there the day he got his first ink. We’d arrived together to celebrate my eighteenth birthday, planning to get matching tattoos on our upper arms. But worries about its permanence rapidly spiraled into panic about what my mother would say when she found out.
He’d teased me mercilessly for four months about it, plus every time he got another.
“What was your wedding like?” Claire asked.
The original cover story was a big affair at the cathedral downtown. But we’d changed it on the flight to Miami. What was it? “Just us at the courthouse, actually. We wanted to do it fast. We might plan a bigger wedding later, but that’s not our thing, anyway.”
“No honeymoon either?” Claire asked, leaning forward like we were girlfriends sharing secrets.
“We’d talked about going to Santorini for a honeymoon,” I said, picking up details from Ashley and Will’s original backstory. “But that was when we’d been planning a more elaborate wedding. Then the job offers from Mnemis changed everything.” I shrugged. “We’re thinking a few days in Freeport after our first shift will have to do for now.”
Claire’s gaze fell to my left hand. “How did Will propose?”
My stomach dropped. The original proposal story included an over-the-top Times Square announcement. That didn’t suit us, and we hadn’t come up with a replacement story. I stared at my wedding ring, mind racing. Maybe change the subject. “Will’s not really a super romantic guy?—”
“Here you go, Bug.” Will slid into his seat, setting a mug in front of me.
“Thank you.” I wrapped both hands around the warm ceramic, inhaling the rich aroma. Exactly what I needed. “Feeling better?”
“Coffee’s helping.” He took a long sip from his own mug. His eyes were clearer now, more focused. “Everyone’s realized I’m a grumpy morning person, have they?”
Claire laughed, moving on from the proposal question. “Honestly, Will, grumpy morning people fit right in with Ronnie.”
“Is that a compliment or a warning?” Will settled back, his arm sliding across the back of my chair again.
“Both,” Claire grinned. “But speaking of fitting in, you mentioned working in a molecular lab earlier? At Dalhousie? That sounded interesting.”
