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“Aww Connor, don’t you fret my love. I’m not going anywhere so you won’t have to miss me.” Sondra took hold of his chin and kissed him square on the mouth with an exaggerated smack. Then pinched his cheek hard.
“You see what I have to put up with?”
“Says the man who drew a pink penis on my face in the middle of the night before my wedding.”
Connor snorted a laugh. “You started it.”
Simon chuckled then patted his lap. “Come sit with me, Sunny.”
Sondra went around to Simon and draped herself across his lap where she fit so perfectly. He didn’t hesitate—his arm curled around her, anchoring her as his free hand slid into her hair. Their eyes met, a spark igniting between them, and then his mouth was on hers. The kiss was deep, slow, and unhurried, a claiming and a surrender all at once. Neither of them cared that there were others in the room. Right now, there was only the heat of his lips, the taste of him, the way his fingers tightened at her waist.
“Do you two need to get a room?” Keefe asked.
“Or a hydrangea bush,” Connor added in jest as he tipped his beer to drink.
“Hydrangea?” Keefe asked.
Connor nodded and swallowed his drink. “You don’t know about that? I caught them at it behind the hydrangea bushes at my wedding. Sondra waved at me—with her foot.” He wiggled his fingers hello mimicking what Sondra had done.
Keefe nearly spit out his beer laughing.
Meanwhile, Simon and Sondra took their time wrapping it up. Their kiss had nearly ended—until Keefe decided to tease them. Just for that, Simon held onto her a little longer and just before breaking free, Sondra added a nibble of Simon’s bottom lip.
Without looking away from Simon, Sondra addressed Connor and Keefe. “Are you through or should we continue?”
“Let’s hope they aren’t through,” Simon murmured and leaned in for another taste.
Keefe was the first to relent. “All right, all right, we’re done teasing you. You can stop sucking her face off now.”
Simon leaned back and admired his beautiful wife for a moment before saying anything. Although part of their moment had been simply for show, the emotion behind it wasn’t. “What are you doing out here anyway, Sunny? I thought you wanted to visit Darcie,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk.
Equally satisfied, Sondra smiled and flicked her hair off from her shoulder. “I thought I’d let Darcie and Sophie get better acquainted. Besides, I missed your face.” She looked adoringly into her husband’s eyes and he squeezed her bottom. She took his beer from his hand and took a swig. “That and I think I upset Sophie.”
“How so?”
“I was only encouraging her to go on a date and she didn’t yell at me or anything but she didn’t like it either.”
“Pfft, don’t take it personally. She gets that way with anyone who mentions dating to her. That’s how I got this.” Keefe turned his head to show off the bruise left by a coffee cup she’d thrown at him. “I heard her on the phone with her friend Emma the other day and she did the same to her.”
“That’s not how I heard it. I heard you lied to her and invited Liam over without telling her,” said Connor with a grin.
Keefe feigned offense. “I only did what was necessary to, you know, shove her in the right direction.”
Whether Sophie was like this with everyone or not didn’t change how Sondra felt. “I should have minded my own business.” Which everyone knew wasn’t Sondra’s strong point. She couldn’t mind her own business if her life depended on it. “Well, I thought it best if I gave her some space. Anyway, I was going to make us all sandwiches.” Keefe grew uneasy in his seat. “Just some cold meat and cheese, maybe pickles. Things that are already prepared so you can calm down Keefe.”
Keefe was already up and out of his seat and halfway to the kitchen. “Why don’t you let me whip us all up some lunch? I planned on doing that, anyway. I brought some groceries with me.”
“Need any help?”
“No!” said all three in unison.
Chapter7
Sophie emergedfrom her bedroom looking effortlessly put together, her dark hair falling in soft waves, her makeup just enough to enhance her features. At least, that’s what she wished she looked like. What she really looked like was a middle-aged divorcee who hadn’t put a swipe of makeup on in God only knows how long and whose wardrobe comprised of jeans, sweatpants, sweaters, and a couple of pairs of well-worn coveralls.
She smoothed her sweater and ignored the way her stomach twisted—not with nerves for the date, but because a small part of her still questioned whether this was a good idea. The guy seemed nice enough—not that she really knew him. They had just met that same morning. But everyone she cared about seemed to want her to date again, and she had to start somewhere.
Keefe who was sitting at the kitchen counter looking over tile samples looked up in surprise. “You look nice sis. What’s the occasion?”
