Page 94 of From Best Friend to Bride
Si took a deep breath and laid his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me. “Deli, you’re a very beautiful young woman.”
I leant away from him, stilling my hand inside the pint glass. “Si, please, I’m married.”
Lucy snorted again.
“You idiot.” He tapped the side of my head and stepped back. “I’m just saying. You’re an attractive young lady, and Fred is a man in the prime of his life. Mornings might be a little uncomfortable for him.”
I stared at him for a moment, but nothing came out, so I turned to my sister instead.
She whistled and quickly pointed upwards.
Ah.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not possible. He doesn’t see me like that.”
“Maybe not before,” Si said. “But that was then, and this is now. Things change.”
“Especially when there are more opportunities to see each other naked,” Lucy piped up. “And you two have a lot of those now.”
I stared at her. “You aren’t helping.”
“No, no, I am.” She rested her forearms on the bar before flinching and sitting back up. “Ooh, sticky.”
I grabbed the cleaner, gave it a quick spritz, and wiped it down, finishing off with her forearms when she held them up.
“Where was I?”
“You were about to explain to me why seeing someone naked a lot is helpful to my current situation.”
“Ah, of course.” She cleared her throat and wriggled in her seat, then resumed her previous position without the stickiness on the bar. “It’s really quite simple. Seeing a handsome, naked man, gives one a straight hit of dopamine. Cranks up the serotonin production. Gives the oestrogen the old yee-haw.”
Maybe her pregnancy was getting to her brain.
Then again, she might have been onto something. Seeing Fred naked wasn’t exactly a hardship, after all. He was handsome, perfectly sculpted where a good man should be, and water droplets really knew their way around his muscles.
“Huh,” I said flatly. I quickly shook my head to dismiss those unholy thoughts. “No, that’s not it. He doesn’t see me naked.”
“But you see him naked,” she pointed out as Si left to serve someone. “Have you considered he might be shy about it?”
“If he’s shy about it, he should start taking his clothes into the bathroom with him,” I replied. “He’s the one who flaunts it about the place. I’m not stalking him just to get a glimpse at his abs.”
“I might,” she mused. “Hey, did you break into that bucket yet?”
I paused. “What? No. How do you know about it?”
“I put some lube in.” She grinned. “I was hoping you’d give me some tips on some of those toys. My hormones are a little whackadoodle right now, but Harvey is working a lot, and I need some help downstairs. Know what I mean?”
How about that? The pregnancywasgetting to her brain. I was right.
“This half of the pub knows what you mean, Luce.” Luckily for her, there were only a handful of people in the entire place this afternoon. The only one was in earshot was old Valerie, and it was a fifty-fifty chance she’d turned off her leopard print hearing aid so she couldn’t hear her son calling her to tell her to stop drinking.
That was icon behaviour, if you asked me.
“But no, no recommendations. Sorry.” I sighed and held up her empty glass.
“No. I’ll be peeing all afternoon if I have anymore.” She shifted on the stool again. “Si might be right, though, you know.Fred is a man. You are sleeping in the same bed. Wouldn’t it be weirder if hewasn’treacting to you being there?”
I pursed my lips. “No. I’m used to him not reacting. I even asked him if he could get it up once.”
