Page 17 of Dreamboat

That set off a conversation about my job and why I chose to be a vet.

I always answer that question the same way I did today. I love animals. That started when I was a kid and I rescued an injured bird that was stranded on the sidewalk. My fascination only grew as I aged, so when it came time to start planning my life around where I wanted to study veterinary medicine, I made sure I took the right electives. I devoted as much time as I could to getting good grades and the day I graduated with my degree in hand, I knew I’d chosen the only path I could.

“How many drinks do you think I’ve had?” Delia asks me with a straight face.

I shrug. “Four?”

“For sure?”

I can’t help but laugh. “So, you’ve had four for sure?”

Her eyebrows pinch together. “Are you asking me because I was asking you?”

Slightly intoxicated Delia Hawthorne is a fucking treat. “Since I sat down, you’ve finished two.”

I hold up two fingers to clearly convey my point.

“So those two plus the two I had before you got here is four,” she deduces. “Or wait. Are you including the one I was finishing when you sat down as one of your two, or one of my two, plus two more.”

My mouth curves into a broad smile. “I think you’ve had enough for today.”

“I’m not drunk,” she announces. “Do you know how I know I’m not drunk?”

I lean closer to her, wishing I could kiss her right now. “How?”

She taps the tip of her nose with her index finger. “I can do this.”

I follow her lead and do the same with my finger on my nose. “So, I’m not drunk either?”

“Nope. You’re sober.”

I’m not quite that. I wouldn’t trust myself behind the wheel of a car at the moment, but I’m certain I’d pass any sobriety test.

“Roman told me if I couldn’t touch my nose I was drunk.” She shakes her head. “He would make me touch my nose when I’d get home after a party. That started when I was sixteen.”

“Roman is a hard-ass.”

Her head falls back in laughter, revealing the smooth column of her neck. She’s so sexy that it’s almost painful to be this close to her and not be touching her. I’ve struggled to keep my gaze off the way the fabric of her bikini top barely covers her ample tits. The bottoms look like they’re painted on. They’re snug enough that I anticipate that when I do get her naked she’ll be waxed smooth.

“Did Matthew tell you that?” she asks as her laughter fades.

“He did,” I acknowledge with a nod. “Matt’s the wild one, right? Roman is more rigid.”

“He’s a lawyer,” she reminds me. “He made a pledge to do right in the world, or something.”

“A pledge?”

She holds up her hand as if she’s set to give testimony in a trial. “I promise to not allow my siblings to have any fun, especially Delia.”

“Poor you.” I trace a fingertip over the bridge of her perfect nose. “You were denied fun.”

“I still had plenty of fun,” she whispers. “Don’t tell Roman, though.”

I lift a finger to cover my lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Her gaze follows the curve of my mouth. “Are all of my secrets safe with you?”

It’s my turn to raise my hand as if I’m swearing to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “I promise that all of your secrets are safe with me.”

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