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She shrugged. “You asked. And for the record, I didn’t go back for seconds.” Gesturing to Alistair, she waved him on.
“Definitely not rotting shark, that’s for sure. I did have tuna eyeballs. Had that over in Japan when I was in the service.”
Hope looked at him and smiled. “Thank you for your service.”
Alistair’s return smile was swift, and damn, he was attractive. “You’re welcome.”
Erick cleared his throat. “I’ll go next.” He made a big production of holding out his block.
Hope tugged the quilt that had been on the chair over her lap as she settled in deeper. The wind had picked up outside and she was glad she was inside. The fire popped and crackled and she loved the smoky campfire smell wafting around.
“Does your current car have a name? What is it?” He pinned her with a look. “Hope?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” Wendy asked. “You didn’t name your car?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Don’t have one. So nothing to name.”
“Mine’s Petey.” Wendy grinned. “He’s a cute little Cooper. Green and white.” A finger over her shoulder. “I’d say we could go see him but he’s probably buried.”
“I didn’t name mine,” Sonya added. “My friend says I should but he wanted to give it a girl’s name.” She shook her head. “Lucy, after the show. It’s a red sports car.”
“Mine’s Betty,” Erick said. “Big old Ford pickup out there. My dad had it before he passed and the name stuck.”
Reaching out, Hope patted his arm. “Sorry you lost your father.”
“Been a few years, but thank you.”
She removed her hand, returning it to her lap.
“Alistair, what about you?” Erick glanced at her briefly after he’d asked Alistair.
“Candy, of course.”
They all laughed.
“What are you driving?” Wendy angled toward him. “A new Ferrari or something like that?”
Hope shook her head. “No, I see him in a classic.” The man looked at her, eyebrows up.
“Really?”
“Yes, something like a Stingray from the fifties.”
Alistair grinned and leaned forward. “You’re good, Hope. And you’re right. That’s what I have. You’ll have to let me take you for a drive.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“What does?” Mitchell’s low voice reverberated through her.
She gulped and looked over her shoulder to watch him stride closer. No jacket but his sweater and jeans were completely unfair to her senses. He brought with him the crisp smell of outdoors. His face was ruddy from the cold but his eyes…those burned hot.
Alistair answered, “Me taking Hope for a ride in my vintage ’Vette.”
Mitchell barely glanced at the man but stayed focused on her face. “That a fact?”
“He offered.” God, why do I feel like I’m cheating on him? It’s not like they had any claim on each other. “Are you here to play the game with us? You look a little cold.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He swiped a chair and wedged it between her and Erick, making the man move over a few inches.
Wendy and Sonya tried to hide their amusement behind their hands. Failed, but at least they made the attempt. Alistair didn’t even do that. His headshake was obvious, as was the grin.
Once he was apparently content between her and Erick, Mitchell draped his arm along the top of her chair. “What are we playing?”
“We were playing Jenga but that collapsed, due to allergies, so we’re asking questions from the blocks now.” Wendy stretched out her legs. “You can probably share with Hope.”
“Perfect.” Mitchell somehow moved closer.
Because suddenly there aren’t any more blocks?
“There’s a bag of blocks over there,” she said, pointing by Erick.
He reached into her lap and picked one up. “Good for them. Should I go next, then?”
Everyone but Hope said yes.
“What is,” he began, staring down at her, “the most satisfying noise?”
Heat slammed her and she gulped. “It doesn’t say that,” Hope protested.
Mitchell turned the block and brought it close to her face. “Sure it does.”
She read it as uncertainty welled up in her gut. “It does.”
“Can’t wait to hear your answer,” he whispered in her ear before pulling away. “Who answers first? Me? Or someone else?”
“Does it matter?” Erick groused. “You’re going to do what you want anyway.”
“True,” Mitchell said without shame. “I’ll answer. Up until now I would have said the roar of the crowd at a game, namely after we won the championship. Now,” he took a deep breath, “I’ve found a different sound to crave.”
Silence fell over them all. Holy crap, she could feel his gaze—and everyone else’s—on her and she kept hers firmly on her lap.
“Who’s next?” His voice was smooth as he posed the question.
“Not sure how I’m going to follow that up,” Sonya said. “But for me it’s the sound of my nieces and nephews when they come to visit.”
His hand brushed over Hope’s skin and she trembled. It didn’t make any sense. Mitchell wasn’t looking at her. Sonya had his attention as she spoke, then he turned it to Wendy as she answered the question. But all Hope could focus on was the fleeting brush of his fingertips over her hypersensitive skin. They weren’t even cold, even though she knew he’d been outside. The material of his pants was damp toward the bottom and she nearly opened her mouth to mention how he should change into something dry.
