“Cousin, actually. There are a lot of us.” I correct politely.
She grins at me. “I see. Well, thanks all the same for coming, and for paying your respects to my dear mama.”
“You’re welcome, lass.” I nod once, going for gallant.
“Excuse me.” Cindy states, moving on to the next introduction. I’ll assume that she’s already been acquainted with Declan, or at least shes knows who he is.
I turn to Steph. “See? I can be civilized.”
She speaks through gritted teeth. “Fine. You’ve made your point. Now leave.”
“I’m staying for the funeral, Steph. I’ve got my cousin and Rory here, and my Uncle Dougall is expecting us to stay, so I am, regardless of whether or not you approve.”
“God, you are such a pussy.” She hisses.
“Are we back to that again.” I comment under my breath. “Look, can’t you just retract your claws for an hour.”
She pulls the cuff of my suit jacket, guiding me to the hallway, away from earshot. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to pull, but you have no business being here, Malcolm.”
“What is wrong with you? Can’t a guy show respect? Do you really have that little confidence in men, Steph? Who the hell has bit you in the past? I’d like fucking names.” My voice is direct, almost a squeak I’m so adamant, and my eyes are all over her face, trying like hell to read her. But it’s impossible. She’s like a Rubik's Cube. Only experts can crack this lass’s code.
“Malcolm, now is not the time to analyze me, okay.” She says, taking it down to brass tacks, using a tone I’ll assume is reserved for the sharks she deals with in business.
“I’m not analyzing you, Stephanie. Look, regardless of what sort of...tension there is between us...your granny passed, and I know about it. Therefore, I should be here to pay my respects. Think of us as friends.” I use a somewhat condescending tone, to let her know that she’s being ridiculous. “If you knew that your friend’s granny passed away, you’d be there for the funeral, right?”
“You have no business being here.”
“If it helps, pretend that I’m here for Moira then, okay.” I mutter under my breath, walking away from her.
She grabs my sleeve again and pulls me into the coat room, which is the first door on our right. She closes it and sets her back to it, preventing anyone from coming in without pushing her out of the way first. “What the...fuck!” I growl, not sure what to expect.
Her lips crush on mine as she forces her tongue inside my mouth. My cock instantly wakes up, and it’s just thanks to God that I jerked off recently, otherwise I don’t know how I would push her away. I let her kiss me voraciously, letting her get it out of her system, but I make no move to her. It takes her five seconds to realize that I’m not reciprocating. With a wounded and surprised expression on her face, she pulls back. “What the fuck is your problem? Are you fucking gay or something?”
My cock is pulsing under my zipper. I’d bet a million dollars that she can feel it, too. “You and I both know that that is impossible lass.”
“Then...why...what is your problem?” She’s sexually frustrated. I’m sexually frustrated, too.
“I’m not going to take you here. Not at your granny’s funeral, and not in a fucking coat closet, Steph. It isn’t right. We’ll both live to regret it.” I want to add ‘you mean more to me than that’, but I refrain, since she looks like she may slap me.
Her nostrils flare. Her chest heaves. “You really are a fucking pussy, Malcolm.”
“Look, do you think that I enjoy this? You think that I like being fucking teased like this, do you? If you want to fuck around, then let’s do it right, okay? You come to my place tonight and we’ll fuck like rabbits all night long, okay? Then maybe we can get past this whole psychotic game of yours, Stephanie!” I don’t mean to reject her yet again, but this is sick. We’re in a fucking funeral home for chrissake.
She says nothing. Her face says it all. This has put the nail in the casket, pardon the pun. She smooths her suit and hair, opens the door, and walks out, looking at me with venom in her eyes.
“Well, that ought to do it.” I say on exhale, through a soft grunt, as I watch her walk back down the hall, and I follow not so closely behind. Declan appears to be looking for me, and when he sees me, he motions me over.
“Where the fuck were you? I’ve got Rory scouting the place out.” He whispers. There’s an edge to his voice.
“Never mind that. Let’s go take our seats and get this over with.” I growl softly.
“Uh oh.” Declan says, catching on. He sends a text to Rory as we head back into the chapel and take our seats. Rory appears a minute later, and he takes a seat on the other side of Declan. The service starts up. Thankfully, we’re in the back, and out of sight, because the sermon lasts well over twenty minutes. I actually catch myself nodding off a few times.
I lean to my right and whisper in Declan’s ear. “When I die, cut to the chase, man. ‘You’re dead. We’ll see you on the other side’, and done.”
Declan smiles behind his hand. Then, making matters worse, an old lady, I’m gathering from the old age home, gets up and sings a psalm horribly. Her voice is shaky and weak, and I swear I can hear Leery inside the casket telling her to shut the fuck up. I’m so bored that when Declan asks me under his breath what happened with me and Steph, I almost consider explaining. “What was that, a broom closet?”
“Coat.”