AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Depends what we’re gonna do.”
“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, I don’t think you’ve got the hang of how a baby’s made.”
That makes me laugh. He’s always known how to disarm me.
We’ve finished the wine, and the waiter comes over to take our plates. “Can I get you a dessert?” he asks.
I shake my head, and Huxley says, “No, I think we’re done with food. Maybe a whisky to finish?”
“Of course.”
“What’s the best you’ve got?”
“We have a thirty-two-year-old Bowmore.” He names the price of a single shot.
My eyebrows rise, but Huxley just nods. “Oh yeah, we’ll have two glasses of that, please. Doubles.”
The waiter smiles. “Of course. Are you happy staying here, or would you like to come inside? There’s an open fire.”
“That sounds great,” Huxley says, so we rise and go inside, over to the sofa in front of the log fire. He sits in the right-hand corner, and I sit in the middle next to him. He puts his arm around me, pulling me right up to him, and I lean against him, tingling at the notion of being so close.
Even though I’m still nervous, the wine has done its job. My joints feel loose, and my spine has relaxed. He’s right. I should just accept that we’re going to end up in bed together. There’s no point in fighting it. I can’t resist him, and I think he knows it.
I give him a mischievous look. “I’ve got something to admit.”
“Oh?”
“Once, a while ago, I overheard two women talking at a bar in Auckland. I was there with a couple of friends who were unconnected to you guys. I went up to order another round. It was impossible not to overhear their conversation as the bar was crowded and they were standing right next to me. One of them—a blonde—said to the other, who was a brunette, ‘So how was it? ’He was amazing,’ the brunette said. ‘He had incredible stamina. He went on for hours. And he actually knew how to get to my clitoris without a map.’”
His brows draw together. “It’d be funny if it wasn’t so sad.”
“The blonde said, ‘I hope you’re seeing him again,’ and the brunette replied, ‘Yeah, you’ll get to meet him if you stay.’ The guy walked in about half an hour later.”
“I hope you got his number,” he says, amused.
I give a small smile. “It was you, Huxley.”
His eyebrows rise. He hadn’t expected that. “Oh.”
“You didn’t see me. You left with her five minutes later.”
“When was this?”
“A few years ago. I think her name was Rachel?”
“Ah, yeah. I remember. Nice girl. She moved to Australia a few weeks after I’d met her. Not because of me. Well, I don’t think it was.”
I think about how much her words had affected me at the time. I was convinced I’d never discover for myself what he was like in bed, and I’d burned with jealousy that she’d been with him, and I would never get the chance.
And now I will. Holy moly.
“I couldn’t look you in the face for days without blushing,” I admit.
He chuckles. “Really?”
I glance at where the material of his shirt is stretched across his shoulders and run a finger down the seam. It’s like discovering yourself on a date with a movie star when you’ve had a poster of him on your wall since you were a kid. I tell myself I’m a confident, sassy woman, but inside I’m still the nineteen-year-old who had a huge crush on him, and whose heart he broke.
“I’ve tried so hard not to think about what it’d be like to go to bed with you,” I murmur. “I’d convinced myself the brunette in the bar must have been exaggerating. But I’m beginning to think she wasn’t, and I’m puzzled and terrified and excited all rolled into one.”
