Page 22 of Mr. Risky

We had been talking about being musicians, and I’d argued passionately that no matter what it cost, I wanted to make music my whole life.

Granger had listened, that little smile playing across his lips, but shook his head.

“That wouldn’t be me. It’s not in me to be an honorable penniless musician. I’d rather be rich.”

I had laughed, thinking he was making a joke.

But it turned out it was the truth. He would never had chosen me, it wasn’t in his nature. . .

The sea breeze smelled amazing, filling my nostrils with fresh salt. I wished all my memories of this town hadn’t been tainted by my mistake with Granger.

If only I hadn’t followed him down that hallway.

Maybe I’d be able to move toward my dream of living on the waterfront permanently. I should try to sign on with one of those big cruise ships. After all, truly devoting my life to being a musician needed the connections I was struggling to appreciate.

But if I wasn’t willing to play nice and suck up to Chamberlain or Hayden? How was I expecting to parlay this job into a career?

A knock on the door startled me out of my reverie.

Chapter Six

Iopened the door to see Pippa with a big smile on her face, holding up a charcuterie board, with Granger leaning against the doorframe beside her.

What the hell were they doing here?

“Thought we would come over to bring you a little Welcome-to-Oystar-Bay present. Or, you know, welcome back to Oystar Bay.”

When I stood frozen in the doorway, Pippa nudged my arm with the charcuterie board.

“Can we come in? This isn’t getting any lighter, you know.”

“Oh—sure, sure. Of course.”

She stepped through and before I could move aside, Granger brushed by me, so close I felt the drag of his rough fingers across my belly, the knock of his cock on my waistband.

His scent was all in my nostrils, deeply masculine and erotic, a hint of his plain shampoo mixed with salt. He spent a lot of time out fishing in the bay, there was always that taste of wind and sea on him.

I gritted my teeth and waved them onto the couch, while I sat on the less-comfortable chair opposite.

Pippa put the charcuterie board down on the table and sat down.

She was obviously determined to put the past behind us.

And so was I.

But as normal as I tried to act, Granger’s presence unnerved me.

Last night I’d had his cock so far down my throat I could still taste the cum there. Or maybe it was that once you tasted Granger, you couldn’t taste anything else.

Pippa talked about her fall plans for Hollingsworth House and asked if I wanted to sign up to train for a half-marathon together. Her sleeks fingers plucked fruit from the charcuterie board as she hand-fed Granger, placing cut strawberries and mango between his lips.

Granger acted like he’d never fucking strayed in his life, his tongue flicking out on Pippa’s fingers to wrap around the fruit, pull it deeper into his mouth with that cocky grin.

I tried to bring up my boyfriend as much as I could. Pippa obviously thought I could do better with her brother, though.

Could I ever be friends with Pippa again? Or would my guilt consume me?

Every minute they stayed was an agony. There was a very old piano in the corner and Pippa wanted us to sing together like we used to, so with dry and parched lips, I started to play as Granger brought out his fiddle.