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Wendy laughed. Licking her lips, Hope leaned forward to respond when movement to her left pulled her focus. Her savior stood in the shadows, but she felt his gaze on her.
At the last minute, she restrained herself from reaching out to him. Instead, she smiled and angled her head to look directly at Mitchell. “Coming to join us?”
Around her, the others fell silent. Hope wanted him to join her. Erm, them. Yes, them. Definitely them.
He stepped from the darkness.
“Hey, aren’t you—”
“Mitchell,” he interrupted Alistair. “The name is Mitchell.”
There was something odd in his tone, perhaps a bit edgy, but no one mentioned it. Alistair merely nodded.
“Of course,” Alistair replied. “Mitchell. I’m Alistair.”
Hope didn’t speak as introductions were made. She watched Mitchell. Tried—she’d failed but she had tried—to keep from thinking about him.
He made his way to her seat and sat beside her like he had every right. The fit was tight and intimate.
“How’s your leg?” He made like he would touch it but didn’t. Her disappointment was unappreciated.
“Better, thank you.”
He grunted, leaning back and resting his arm along the back. “What’s the game?”
It hit her. With the power outage, he didn’t want to drain his computer. He wasn’t here because his thoughts mirrored hers.
Even though she knew she shouldn’t be bothered by that, there was no stopping it from happening. No longer a logical woman, she seemed to be ruled by her ovaries and other, lower, parts of her body ruled by desire.
“We were about to find out the results of our marshmallow-eating competition.” She flicked her fingers between herself and Alistair. “We were the final two. Pretty sure a kiss is up for grabs.”
The man beside her tensed and she heard the slow drag of his fingers along the fabric behind her. Yeah, she wasn’t going to focus on that.
“As I was saying…” Wendy held her hands out before her, hovering over the table between those gathered. “The winner by an impressive two miniature green marshmallows is…drum roll, please…”
Hope, Alistair, and Sonya provided it. Mitchell was a statue beside her, and Erick was on his way back to the group with a new drink.
“Hope!”
The women cheered and she grinned.
“I didn’t even have my speech prepared. But I believe I get a kiss for winning.”
Alistair grinned and pushed up from his chair, even though he wasn’t that far from her. He swaggered to her side. He stopped and bent down.
“While the fire was part of it, the others being so close definitely wasn’t what I had planned for our first kiss.”
Everyone laughed at his overexaggerated pout. Except Mitchell.
Hope turned her cheek and tapped it. “Right here.”
Alistair brushed a kiss along the skin then whispered, “Your guardian is not a fan.”
Heat blossomed and she clucked her tongue. This was something she didn’t need to focus on.
Mitchell cleared his throat and Alistair stepped back, a grin firmly in place. “Can’t claim a date yet, Mitchell. The games are just getting started.”
The faintest brush of Mitchell’s fingers glanced along her nape. Hope couldn’t deny her attraction but she wasn’t here for pleasure. Or maybe she was.
Gah, she was confused.
“What’s next?” Erick questioned as Alistair reclaimed his seat.
Yes, a distraction. That’s precisely what I need.
“Wendy,” Sonya said. “Do you still have the list?”
“I do.”
Alistair waggled his eyebrows as he continued to stare at her. “Two words we need to save for later.”
Hope laughed. “Full of eternal optimism. I like it.” With a shake of her head, she leaned back. Another whisper of a touch along the nape of her neck. Not even a full touch, just the ephemeral possibility that there could be something more.
Didn’t matter. To her it was a cacophonous boom which pounded through her like her own fireworks display. Inside the sleeves of Mitchell’s sweatshirt—which she was contemplating stealing when they left this place—she allowed her fingers to curl into fists. It left her with a pit in her stomach that overflowed with longing. Her mind raced down a road it had zero business being on. She swallowed and glanced at Wendy.
“Yes. What’s next?”
A few more people joined the group and after introductions were made, they played another getting-to-know-you game. The man beside her barely moved, just shut people down when they asked him to join in.
The room, without the additional heat, had gotten cooler. However, the blazing fireplace made it bearable.
Sonya brought over a bunch of drinks and passed them around. Hope sipped on her water as she listened to the others talk about their jobs and the lives they led. Her eyes wouldn’t stay open and she fought off a yawn.
Once.
Twice.
The third time, she wasn’t so lucky. When she stirred again, she was up against Mitchell with his arm still stretched along the back of the seat they shared. She was not merely using him to slump against but like he was her very own body pillow. Her arms were around his middle, one pressed to the back of the seat and the other along the very hard planes of his abdomen.
