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How the bloody hell had the conversation gotten out of control so quickly? One minute they’d been talking about college classes for translators and the next they’d been discussing Finn Sullivan’s naked butt. Which she would hazard a guess wasn’t a patch on his older brother’s naked butt. Not that she was thinking about Ty’s naked butt. At all.
Just as she was trying to get that inappropriate thought the hell out of her head, Mercy piped up again. “Talking about Faith’s hot brothers, another one of them just walked into the pub.”
Dawn craned her neck to get a better look. But already Zelda’s heart was slamming into her ribcage with the force and fury of a sledgehammer—equal parts horror and euphoria. It couldn’t be? Could it? He’d promised he wouldn’t come into the pub while she was here? Then again, he’d promised not to contact her, too. Or hug her and cuddle her and spoon with her, unless erections were involved.
Don’t think about his bloody erection, are you nuts.
“It’s Ty,” Dawn said, and the last of the blood drained from Zel’s head, to crash into her already palpitating heart. “And it looks like he’s headed this way.”
So much for Ty Sullivan being a law-abiding citizen. The man couldn’t even follow a simple set of rules.
“That’s weird.” Faith swiveled round to look through the crowd, as Zelda shrank into the corner of the booth. “He hardly ever comes into the pub.”
Maybe he wasn’t even here to see her? It had been over a week since he’d contacted her. This didn’t have to be bad.
“Hey, Ty, how’s it going?” Faith said.
“Hi, sis,” came the clipped response in that deep, Brooklyn accent which detonated all over Zelda’s body.
She concentrated on her mojito, the blush now setting light to her scalp. If she didn’t look at him, maybe he’d go away. She wanted him to go away.
“I need to talk to Zelda.”
She could hear the barely leashed temper. She carried on staring at her mojito. She could feel four pairs of eyes on her. But only one set of them, the deep emerald green ones with flecks of gold in the irises, were making her feel as if it the top of her head was about to blow off.
“What do you need to talk to Zel about?” Faith said, cutting through the tension now crackling in the air.
“That’s between me and her.”
Zelda risked a glance and wished she hadn’t. He stood at the end of the booth, his eyes locked on hers. With his tie gone, and the shirt unbuttoned at the neck to reveal his tanned throat, he looked tall and dark in his rumpled business suit and completely and utterly gorgeous.
“Go away,” she managed, but the demand came out on a mortifying squeak of distress. “You promised you wouldn’t come here.”
“Fuck that. We need to talk.”
“We do not need to talk.”
“Is this something to do with Zelda’s citation?” Faith’s head swung back and forth between the two of them.
“Butt out, sis. This is between me and Zel.”
“Don’t talk to Faith like that.” Zel found her voice at last, the guilt consuming her.
“Forget it, Ty. No way am I butting out,” Faith said. “Until someone tells me what the hell is going on?”
“I’d say it was fairly obvious what’s going on,” Mercy observed, only the tiniest hint of her native Argentina still present in her flawless English. “Zel and your brother are lovers.”
Zelda shot a horrified look at Mercy. “How did you know that?” she blurted out, then realized she’d revealed exactly what she had intended not to reveal.
“Simple,” Mercy replied with unshakeable pragmatism. “There are enough sparks flying between you two to give an innocent bystander an orgasm.”
“For the love of Christ, Mercy,” Faith groaned. “That’s my brother you’re talking about.”
“Faith, your brothers are hot,” Dawn jumped in, sending Zelda a sympathetic smile. “Deal with it.”
“Okay, enough of the chitchat, girls,” Ty cut in, not sounding amused. “Get the hell out of the booth, Faith, so Zel can come out of there and talk to me in private.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Zelda clamped her hand on Faith’s arm, in case her friend decided to obey her big brother’s surly command. “And neither is Faith.”
