Page 94 of Catch a Kiwi
“Roman,” she said. “I can’t justleaveher.”
I nearly groaned, but said, “Fine. Do what you have to do.”
In answer, she turned, put a hand on my shoulder again, rose onto her toes, touched her lips to mine, and smiled into my eyes. “Later on,” she said, “do you want to go to dinner with me?”
“Yeh,” I said, my hand going to that sweet indentation of waist as if she had a homing device there. “If I get to take you somewhere good. And I get to pay. No strop allowed.”
“Hmm,” she said, a teasing light in her eyes. “You’re pretty demanding.”
“You have no idea,” I promised. “But you will.”
They called it “foreplay.” They should just call it “play,” because that was what we were doing here. And what we’d be doing later.
If I made it until then.
40
BURNING
Summer
It was like we were existing on two levels. All of me tingling with the awareness of Roman beside me, of the warmth and strength of his hand around mine, and also walking back without Delilah, because she didn’t want to leave the beach, and shewasnearly nineteen and about to start college, which meant I had to learn to let go, as terrifying as the idea was. Dropping Roman’s hand at the door to the house and taking a shower in the private ensuite of my bedroom, which had a pretty stunning view of the sea, washing off the salt and sand and knowing that he was doing the same thing on the floor above. Coming out in my robe—which I totally could have worn to the beach—with my hair carefully blow-dried, to put Roman’s shirt and my bikini and towel in the washing machine, then heading upstairs to get his and see if Delilah was back.
It's hard to let yourself get carried away when you have to remember the laundry. And your cousin. Not to mention your resolution.
Roman was on the deck, which I could have predicted—Kiwis, I’d already noticed, would always choose sitting outside over sitting inside, like there wasn’t enough time in the world to soak up those ridiculous levels of natural beauty—typing away on his laptop. His own hair was still damp, but he’d shaved again, because surely his skin was smoother than it had been when I’d been holding onto him in the water. I’d already noticed that he had a heavy beard, as if the testosterone just couldn’t be denied. I’d bet Hemi Te Mana did, too. Those were somebrothers.
When I sank down beside him, he looked up, his hands still on the keyboard, and said, “Bottle of wine on the kitchen bench. Sauvignon Blanc again, because nothing goes with the beach like a good Sauv Blanc. Some strawberries in there, too.”
“Mm.” I lay back in the chair, put my feet up on another one, and crossed my ankles. “I could be too lazy, especially if we’re going to have wine with dinner. I feel like I could fall asleep right now.”
“Go on and do it, then,” he said. “We’ve got time. Booking’s for seven.”
I tried to raise an eyebrow the way he did, but my eyebrows insisted on working together. “You made a booking?”
“I did. For two. Delilah can take that card I gave you and order whatever she wants, but I’ve been waiting for our first date a long time, and I intend to have it.”
“Hey,” I said, with the final remnants of my brainpower. “We’ve had dates. Two walks and a swim date. That waterfall thing you mentioned on your card, with kissing and everything. Also lunch at a café.”
“It’s not a date when you practically run out on me,” he said. “It’s a date when you tell me you want romance and I give it to you.”
“Did I tell you that?” The tingles were right back again,just like that. I was still sleepy. I was also melting. Something about the way he said it, so strong and so sure.
“Seemed like it to me,” he said. “If not, tell me now, because otherwise? That’s where I’m going.”
“Am I just supposed to succumb, then?” I asked. “Let you lead the way?” I’d meant it to come out combative, possibly. At least assertive. Somehow, though, the words didn’t leave my mouth the way they’d formed in my brain.
His smile started slow. It was lopsided, and it was devastating. “Yeh,” he said. “That works for me.”
Oh, man. I was sliding fast, and I was almost out of rope. Which was the moment when the door banged and Delilah called out, “Hi, honey, I’m home!” Which caused Roman to close his eyes and swear under his breath. The word was dirty, and eventhatworked for me.
“Hey,” I called out, not getting up. “We’re out here.”
“Well, duh,” Delilah said, coming out to join us. “I saw you from the street. Didn’t you see me?”
“Uh … no.” I tried not to blush.
“Huh.” She looked me over. Naked under my silky robe, with my feet bare and no makeup. I’d been too lazy. “There’s a bottle of wine in an ice bucket in the kitchen,” she said. “I’m getting a glass. Want one?”
