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‘Are you sure there’s nothing on me?’ He turned so she could inspect his back.
She was faced with perfect golden skin, sculptured shoulder blades, a defined set of muscles sweeping over his shoulders and cascading down his back into the waistband of his jeans. Another awkward swallow followed. ‘You’re… perfect.’ Understatement.
He turned and enveloped her in a tight hug. ‘Thank God you were here,’ he said, squeezing the breath out of her. ‘Sorry for the meltdown.’
She was in direct contact with his bare torso and her heart began to flutter like a butterfly trapped under glass. Thank heavens she wasn’t the one with the heart condition – this would have sent her into coronary failure for sure.
She thought back to that day when she’d stumbled across him naked, getting out of the shower. Here she was, a few weeks later, wrapped in those same arms, pressed against that smooth bare chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles, tasting the saltiness of his skin, and aware of every nerve ending in her body.
The hug lasted quite a while – as if they were both suffering from the comedown of an extreme adrenaline rush and reluctant to let go.
It was only as their respective heart rates subsided that things started to change. Slowly at first, a friendly hug morphing, from the platonic need for comfort, into something more primal. His fingers splayed as he explored the contours of her back, leaving a trail of heat through the thin fabric of her top. His breathing grew shallow and his lips slowly began caressing the crook of her neck, hitting a nerve that sent shock waves hurtling down to her nether regions.
Driven on by such a surge of wanting, her hands skimmed over the length of his spine, noting where each vertebra beganand ended. She breathed in his scent, her tongue trailing over his collarbone…
His sharp intake of breath matched hers.
She’d licked him?
There was a pause.
He drew back and his eyes locked on hers.
The heat in his expression was nothing like she’d ever experienced before.
It didn’t take a genius to work out what was coming next.
And it wasn’t playing Pop-Up Pirate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
New Year’s Eve
Rose Court was suspiciously quiet when Calvin jogged up the steps and opened the front door. His footsteps echoed on the stone flooring as he crossed the lobby. ‘Anyone here?’ he called out, depositing his suitcase by the coat stand.
‘In here!’ Granny Esme shouted from the dining room.
Considering how quiet the place was, he was dumfounded when he headed into the dining room and discovered everyone congregated there. The sight made him stop with a jolt. ‘What’s going on?’ he said, looking around at a sea of expectant faces.
‘Nothing’s going on,’ Esme said innocently, which meant that something was definitely going on. ‘Your mum called to say you were on your way back, so we wanted to be here to welcome you.’
Everyone nodded silently, increasing his suspicion. Why were they so quiet?
Rowan was sitting next to Esme, clutching her hand like they were on a ship about to sink. Geraldine sat opposite, with Suki asleep at her feet. Larry, Nelson and Natalie were squashed in between, with baby Jacob lying in his portable seat.
At the adjacent table, Hanna and Alex were looking solemn, as though they expected someone to die at any moment. When he glanced over, they both gave strained smiles, which in itself was alarming.
Hanna’s iPad was open on the table, Deshad’s face visible on the screen.
‘Did you have a good journey?’ Geraldine asked, sitting bolt upright in the chair, as though she had a rod up her back. ‘Have you eaten? Can I get you something?’
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ He scanned their faces, wondering what they were up to. They were never normally this polite. ‘Okay, what’s happened? Why are you all acting so weird?’
Rowan gripped Esme’s hand. ‘Nothing’s happened. Like Esme said, we just wanted to welcome you back.’
They all nodded.
‘And to see whether… perhaps, you’d made a decision about your future?’ Esme said, sounding tentative.
