Page 65 of Contingently Yours
“No, thankyou. I’ve been all over the world, but you guys gave us the trip of a lifetime and made us feel at home wherever we went. We were grateful to have two good blokes like you handling all of this for us. If you guys ever need anything, give us a ring.”
Two good blokes…
He got it half right. After I assure them Lou will send over the contracts soon, they pile into their vehicle and drive away, and my gaze connects with Lucas’. I want Mason’s decree to be fully accurate. I want to go to a monster truck rally with the guy in front of me and hold his sweaty-ass hand while I’m there. I don’t care that he’s a guy or that it’d be a date, well past a twenty-something-night stand. Because when I’m with him, I feel like maybe I am good or can be.
Nodding at me, he motions to my foot. “You doing okay?”
Does he know how cute he looks when he tries to act like he doesn’t want to braid my hair? Braid it all you want, I want to tell him.
“Yeah. Right as rain.” It’s not. It still fucking hurts, and I want to whine the whine of the whiniest little bitch in Whine Town, but not tonight. He snuggled me and whittled me a tiny piano ornament. Whatever this is, it isn’t fake. At least, not if I have anything to say about it.
“I’ll go get us checked in. How about you take a load off in the bar? I’ll meet you there when I’m done.”
Ever the Boy Scout, he tries to argue, offering to help with the bags, but I shut it down. “I’m gonna need you to find two of the biggest and best entrees on the menu. Can you do that?”
Chuckling, he nods. “Sure.”
I thank heaven for his compliance kink, and head to the reception desk. Tossing down my platinum card, I book the nicest room available and arrange for our bags to be brought up for us. Trying not to limp, I make my way into the lounge, anxiously rubbing the little wooden piano in my pocket. Sidling up to the bar, I take advantage of his distracted state, where he’s studying a menu.
“You come here often, sweetheart?”
Head whipping toward me, he pauses and lets out a little snort. His hand moves, sliding a beer toward me—the brand I drink. Color me flattered. Familiarity is starting to look less suffocating and more like a soft, warm blanket.
“Ah…I see you’re expecting company.” Swiping it up, I take the stool next to him, angling my body toward his, and yet it doesn’t feel close enough. “Do you think he’ll mind if I drink his beer and keep you company for a while?”
A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “It’s a free country.” Frowning, he mumbles, “I think.”
Lucas… I want to put him in a preservation case and label it, ‘protect at all costs.’
Slinking my arm across the back of his stool, I assure him, “It is. But even if it wasn’t, he’s going to have to fuck off because I’m not letting you out of my sight for the rest of the evening.”
Staring at my mouth, he swallows, but then his gaze flicks to the bartender, who approaches at the most inopportune moment. Is he…ashamed to be seen with me in public?
“Did you decide?” the man asks.
“Uh, this looked good,” Lucas says, turning the menu toward me and pointing to a dish.
Every entrée has a niche name, a play on words after some Australian animal. The kind of marketing that makes youuncertain of what you’re actually getting. He’s clearly playing it safe with what looks like a hamburger.
“We’ll take two kangaroo skewers, two wallaby burgers with potato bites, two slices of devil’s cake, and two more beers each. Can you send all of that up to room five-oh-four?” I ask the server.
The man takes our order down and leaves to dispatch it to the kitchen. Lucas blinks over at me in surprise. “You want to eat in the room?”
“I thought you might be more comfortable up there.”
I retrieve my arm from his chair and turn my waist so I’m no longer caging him in. This is going downhill. I never stopped to consider that he might be apprehensive about his newfound explorations or that we’re no longer in our party of five bubble. I get it—he hasn’t spent endless hours with ‘The Shaw and Terry Show’ like I have. This is new for both of us, but it’s probably more uncharted territory for him than for me. We’re in a foreign country, though, so what does he care if anyone sees him? It’s not like he knows anyone here.
Picking at his beer label, he shrugs, his cheeks pink. “We were just seen outside with the most famous throuple in Australia. I don’t think we’d shock anybody.”
I think that might be his way of giving me a green light. Bravo Lucas. Grinning, I lean in and give him a peck on his lips.
“Yeah, but we wouldn’t want to steal their thunder,” I say huskily. “Why don’t we head up and relax? I’ll find us a flight for tomorrow while you get a shower. I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t get you home for all the babies’ activities on time after you saved my favorite toe.”
Chuckling, he blushes again, but doesn’t survey to see if we have an audience. This man surprises me at every turn. I don’t see a gender in front of me I’ve never been interested in before. Ijust see the person I want. Seeing that he might see the same is a vibe that has me floating on air.
I suppress the urge to pin him against the wall of the elevator and settle for brushing his pinky finger with mine. He brushes mine back, mouth-breathing like nobody’s business. Validation has never come in such subdued actions.
I have a point to prove tonight. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but know it involves me and Lucas being as close as possible for as long as possible. If I thought I was out of my element in the bush yesterday, I’m well out of the zone tonight. Something profound needs to happen; that much seems evident. Toe-saving, piano-whittling, soul-seeing…a lush suite with room service doesn’t seem like it’s enough. What the hell do romantic people do?
