Page 6 of That Sik Luv

His face stretches to a scowl. “But what? That’s it. I’m congratulating you on a very impressive job well done. There’s no getting around it. You’re a force. Figure there’s nothing to do but form an alliance, right?”

“What’s the catch?” I ask, still suspicious of his change in behavior.

He raises his hands. “No catch, I swear.” He smiles a genuine smile that fades into a face of seriousness as he nods. “It’s time for my family to face the inevitable and evolve with the times. I’m happy for you, Bri.”

He’s never called me Bri before. Only murmurs of wart, pest, or eternal stain of condemnation. I wasn’t even sure if he truly knew my name through grade school.

He leans forward, his elbows onto his knees now, hunched over as he turns his head back to me and stares with eyes that somehow smolder, our bodies sitting even closer than before, our thighs practically sealed together.

My brother may be right about him.

“Well, thank you,” I whisper, the conversation becoming strangely intimate.

His lips pull again into a half-smirk as those eyes gaze down at my lips. Feeling the heat practically warming me from his glance, I roll them inward, rubbing them together.

“Walk with me?” he asks, my eyes falling upon his outstretched hand, waiting for me to grab it. “I’d love to show you the grounds.”

My teeth press into my bottom lip, looking for the catch. But his eyes soften as he stands, still holding his hand out for me.

With a quick breath and the confidence of a leader, I place my hand in his.

An alliance it is.

Chapter four

Run

Wewalkarmandarm around the Manor as he shows me the grounds.

Eyes are on us everywhere we go, silent whispers of conversations floating around, weaving their webs of suspicion and gossip.

“Being the only son in the family has left me to take on the role of carrying the Westwood name into the church,” he explains, pointing towards the fountain to direct me where we’re headed.

“Is this a role you feel you’ve fallen into or chosen?”

He turns his head down to look at me, a lopsided grin in place.

“Smart, Briony. You’re smart.” He chuckles before his face drops in seriousness. “But I’ve chosen this. I want it. There’s nothing I’d like more than to bring a bishop title to the family name. But it’s not simply the title that has me passionate, it’s becoming the vessel in which to spread the word. What’s more honorable than that?”

I continue walking alongside him, absorbing his words, until we approach the fountain. The water bubbles over the enormous sculpture of an angel in the moonlight; the darkness pulls my eyes down, making the pool at the bottom seem somewhat eerie in its black abyss.

“I’m glad you sought me out tonight,” he says, turning to face me as he grabs my hands in his before us. “I’ve been hoping for the opportunity to talk alone. It’s time I put the childishness aside.”

My breath hitches as his thumbs gently caress the grooves of my knuckles.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” he continues, staring at me with sympathetic eyes.

He moves in closer, placing our hands together against the firm mounds of his pecs beneath his collared dress shirt as he gazes down at me.

“You’ve really grown up these last couple of years.” He swallows, straightening his spine, as his eyes trail down my form to my heels and back. “Sorry it took me so long to catch up.”

Baret was right.

My chest feels tight as his thumbs continue their gentle strokes, his direct eye contact, making the world around us hazy. Heat is building somewhere in the pit of my gut, threatening to cripple me of my control, and I need an escape.

“Restroom?” I ask, closing my eyes tightly, breaking that contact, and clearing my throat. His brow is cocked when I finally reopen my eyes. “I’m sorry. Can you tell me where the restroom is?”

I have to get out of here.

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