Page 44 of A Flighty Fake Boyfriend
“We are. And in temperament. Randy and Ransom are both married, and Ransom has two kids already. I suspect I’ll end up with a great many nieces and nephews. Regan’s engaged. I like all their significant others. We video chat all the time.”
“A big family must be so fun at Christmas. It snows, right?”
“Yes.”
“That must be heaven,” Epic said dreamily.
“I rarely make it home for the holidays.”
“You what?” He turned to me. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of work to be done, and winter is particularly good for fundraising.”
“Winter is good”—he smacked my arm—“forfundraising?”
“It is.” I rubbed the spot. “What’s with you?”
“I’m beginning to see what Luis meant when he said there is your work and what it takes to support your work and little else.”
“You have a flawless memory.”
“Shh.” Epic stifled another giggle. “That’s another secret.”
I filed that away.
“Why’d you break up with Luis?”
“Our lives went in different directions.”
“Nuh-uh. That’s the sanitized version. What really happened between you?”
“Luis felt I wasn’t giving one hundred percent to our relationship.”
“Were you?” He led me to a bench in the tropical garden near a cluster of plumeria and plunked himself down.
“Not even close.” I sat next to him, leaning forward, hands between my knees.
“What do you think of William? Do you think they work together?”
“It certainly appears that way,” I said carefully. “William seems to enjoy spoiling him.”
“I’ll say.”
“Multitasking is an ability I wish I had.” William never took his eyes off Luis while gliding around the party making every guest feel special. Whatever Luis wanted, whatever he needed, William had anticipated and simply manifested it.
“I enjoyed the party very much, Ryan.” He took my chin and tilted it so we were eye to eye. “May I kiss you?”
I…didn’t know what to say. The question—despite the heat between us at the pool earlier—caught me off guard.
My heart sped up. “Why?”
His eyebrow lifted. “It seems kinda self-explanatory at this point.”
Yeah, okay. But I’d imagined that when our first kiss happened, Epic wouldn’t be the one to initiate it. Did that bother me? Surprisingly, no.
“Okay.” It would be a damn shame to waste a pretty glorious moment. Fragile moonlight sifted over the fragrant garden, gleamed off banana leaves, limned delicate trumpet flowers, and made pale polka dots of the scatter of pebbles beneath our feet.
Epic used both hands to cup my face. He leaned toward me and pressed his lips to mine, a kiss so gentle at first, chaste even, that I barely felt it. Then he licked my lips, seeking to deepen our contact.
