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Vickie sucked in a sharp breath as his hand cupped her breast. The heat that blossomed low in her belly felt achingly familiar. She hadn’t forgotten how to be sexy after all. She just hadn’t met a man in years who made her feel this kind of desire.
She rose on her toes and kissed him, throwing her cares away as she ran her tongue along his lips, forcing them apart. His hand continued to knead her breast as she pressed into his mouth. They were taking each other, right there in her kitchen.
No, not in the kitchen. She pulled away, her breath ragged.
“When you get back from your truck, you’ll find me upstairs.”
His eyes went warm and tender.
“Yes, ma’am. I believe I will.”
“SONOFABI—” Mike glanced at his seven-year-old niece, Katie, and grimaced. “I mean son of abee, that hurt!” She giggled, and he pretended to be offended. “What’s so funny about your uncle Mike hurting himself?”
“Uncle Mike, you were going to swear!” Katie pointed at him, her other hand on her hip. Mary’s daughter was a carbon copy of her, with the same self-righteous attitude. “Momma says we swear a lot ’cuz we’re Irish. Do you think we swear ’cuz we’re Irish?”
“Total blasphemy!” Finn O’Hearn stepped out onto the patio, where Mike was attempting—and failing—to repair a loose railing. Owen Cooper was right behind him. Finn, who was actually born in Ireland, gave Katie an exaggerated look of seriousness. “Ireland is the land of poets.” He winked. “And even when we curse, weelevate it to artistry.” Finn then frowned at Mike. “Oi, you’re bleedin’, lad.”
Mike glanced at the cut on his palm, where the screwdriver had grazed him when it slid off the screw head. It burned, but it wasn’t deep enough for concern.
“I’m fine. Damn wood on this deck is tough as steel. I told Mary I’d secure the railing, but I don’t want to leave the screw sticking out where one of the kids can bump it and I can’t get the fu—” Katie was still watching with interest. “...freakin’thing to set all the way.”
Owen stepped forward, his hand out. “Give me the screwdriver.” He knelt on the step and leaned into the effort, getting all three screws in and flush with the wood. He stood, handing the screwdriver back to Mike with a grin.
“Don’t feel bad, boys. The world needs lawyers and professors, even if you can’t build anything.”
Finn scoffed. “Says the lad who plants flowers for a livin’.”
“I like flowers!” Katie announced proudly.
Owen tapped her nose with his finger. “As you should, young lady. That’s why the world needs landscapers and flower shops.” He pointed to Mike and Finn. “But we’ll still keep these fancy boys around, just because we like them, okay?”
The girl’s auburn curls bounced as she nodded in agreement before running back inside. Finn handed Mike one of the beers he was holding, giving another to Owen. They sat at the patio table and tapped the bottles together lightly in a toast before drinking.
There weren’t many things better than a cold beer on a hot June afternoon. It was Father’s Day, and Mary had insisted on having a house party, even though her husband Sam was practically immobilized by the contraption he was strapped into after having shoulder surgery a few days ago.
She wasn’t handling the work of entertaining alone—their grandmother, Maura, was in the kitchen with Finn’s wife, Bridget. Owen’s wife, Lucy, was sitting with the book club seniors at the dining room table, sharing some funny bridezilla stories from the flower shop. Mary was making Sam, a state legislator, comfortable in the recliner while Hazel did her best to keep up with their three kids. And Hazel’s mom was walking toward the open sliding doors to the deck.
Zoey’s hair was loose, with one side pinned back from her face with a plain barrette. She was wearing a dress—something rare enough that everyone made note of it. He could tell it annoyed her from the way the corners of her mouth tightened, even as she smiled at their comments. The pale yellow dress had tiny daisies scattered on it. It was loose, although he could definitely see her curves beneath the soft fabric as she walked. She wore white sandals, so flat and strappy that she may as well have been barefoot.
“Is this a meeting of the men’s club out here?” she asked, smiling, but carefully avoiding making direct eye contact with Mike. They’d discussed this cookout in great detail last night, and she’d given him a long list of dos and don’ts. Mary was her friend and his sister, so it would be awkward if they didn’t attend. But Zoey made it clear that they could not arrive together and could not even be seen together, unless in a group. They could not touch under any circumstances, and definitely could not sneak upstairs for a hot kiss, as Mike had suggested.
They’d successfully kept their relationship under wraps for three weeks now. They still texted jokes to each other, although the humor had turned a bit more risqué. They still had their friendly chats in the shop, and, depending on where Hazel was sleeping that night, they’d eventually find their way to Zoey’s bedroom or back to her dad’s old desk, now well fortified with blankets, cushions and pillows.
She’d even come to his place a couple of times, but she was so worried about the neighbors seeing her car that she’d parked on Main Street andwalkedthe four blocks to his house. Which meant, as a gentleman, he had to get dressed and walk her backto her car. Where he wasn’t allowed to kiss her, because it was Main Street and someone might see them. It was annoying, but worth it.
Because the sex was spectacular. It had nothing to do with what they did physically. It was the way sex with Zoey made himfeel.The way she gave herself to him so completely, yet never lost herself in the process. She was a partner—giving and taking and being direct about what she liked or didn’t like or wanted him to do again right away. It made the experience unlike any other he’d had with a woman. Making love with Zoey was just that good.
It wasn’t until this very moment, as she breezed onto the sunny deck wearing that dress and that smile, that he realized how challenging today would be. Keeping his feelings for her to himself—especially in front of friends and family—was going to be hellishly difficult. As Owen and Finn greeted her and made room for her to join them, Mike found himself standing and stepping away.
“Where’re you goin’?” Finn asked. “You can’t leave when a pretty woman arrives at the table.”
A wave of panic rose in his chest, making his lungs burn. This particular pretty woman was his best friend. His lover. The one who insisted they keep thingsfunandlightandcasual. Andsecret. She was staring up at him now with wide eyes and a blush of pink on each cheek. He couldn’t possibly stay anywhere near Zoey and pretend he wasn’t falling in love with her.
Oh, damn.He was falling in love with Zoey. The thought made him go both hot and cold all at once. Thrilled and terrified. He realized they were all still staring at him.
“Uh... I promised Mary I’d help with...things.” He stammered out the words and bolted into the house. He blinked a few times to acclimate his eyes after sitting in the sunshine. Mary stopped plumping pillows for Sam and looked over in surprise.
“Did you get stung by a bee or something?”
