Page 82 of Wrapped with a Beau

She does, until everything tightens and his thrusts become erratic. Moments before they both crest, he buries his face in her sweaty neck, kissing the flushed skin.

“Ves, I’m all gross,” she says with a giggle.

He lifts his head to look at her. “You? Never.”

His words are so solemn, his eyes so serious, that she laughs again.

With a growl, he pins her arms to the headboard and in one swift stroke, Elisha isn’t laughing anymore.

She’s moaning his name instead.

Chapter Forty

Elisha

You’re late,” Arun says instead of hello when Elisha and Ves turn up at 7:05 p.m. “But you’re here and it’s almost Christmas and you brought my favorite wine, so you’re forgiven.” He hugs Ves with both arms, then turns to Elisha. “Are you a hugger?”

She laughs and throws her arms around him. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to my best friend.” Arun’s hug is extra tight, like he’s committing something he can’t put into words behind the gesture. “Come in, Cade’s dying to meet you.”

The Iyers’ apartment is as wonderfully eclectic as the couple themselves. Elisha can easily pinpoint each man’s influence on the modern-slash-shabby-chic aesthetic: soft black walls, leather sectional, and monochrome photography blended with plenty of floral soft furnishings and worn furniture, replete with nicks and scratches. Arun wears a sharp navy suit and his hair is styled in a suave undercut, all clean lines and lots of volume. A bit like he’s auditioning for the next Bond. Cade, on the other hand, wears a kiss the cook apron and Birkenstocks, and looks like he listens to James Blunt.

“So glad you could both make it,” Cade enthuses. He has a light French accent and shoulder-length curls that he brushes back with an impatient sound. He apologetically gestures to his spattered apron. “Sorry, thanks to this mess, I won’t hug you. Someone insisted on throwing a dinner party and then had a panic attack at the idea of cooking for eight people.”

Arun winces and takes the bottle of wine from Ves. “It’s true. I may have woken up at two in the morning to panic-google ‘How to take the stress out of cooking.’ ”

Cade gives him a lopsided smile and prompts, “And the answer is?”

Arun sighs. “Get your ridiculously hot, super-thoughtful husband to do it for you.”

“I must have missed the part in your vows when you promised to do everything Arun delegates,” Ves drawls, giving Cade a wink and slinging his arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

“Oh no, they were in there,” says Arun. “So obvious they didn’t even need to be spoken. Went unsaid. But they were definitely there.”

“I don’t think marriage vows written in invisible ink are enforceable,” says Ves.

“Fuck off,” says Arun, putting him in a headlock to mess with his hair.

Elisha watches with her mouth open. Who is this Ves?

Boyish, carefree, not even bothering to smooth himself after a bit of roughhouse? In Piney Peaks, she’s sure, if someone had grabbed him like that, he would have immediately fixed his hair and then gotten all stony jawed and monosyllabic until the sulk wore off. Actually, no, back home no one would have thought he was even approachable enough to, well, approach.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine?” Cade asks. He nods toward the two men, who are already poring over one of the thickest books Elisha’s ever seen. “It’s one of the most anticipated fantasy novels for next year and Arun scored an early copy for Ves. Trust me, they’ll be occupied for the next ten minutes with that.”

“Actually, feel free to put me to work. I’m more than happy to help.” And, selfishly, she wants to know more about Ves, and she’s not sure Arun will spill all the messy details about his best friend.

Cade grins like she’s already won him over. He hands her a fork and a big mixing bowl. “Awesome, can you smash these garlicky potatoes?”

“Oh my god, are you a chef?” she asks in amazement. On the counter, he already has bacon-wrapped haloumi drizzled with herb pesto and speared with toothpicks, and champagne chilling in a bucket of ice. Between the cauliflower gratin broiling in the oven, beer-braised pork resting on a chopping board, and cheddar rolls keeping warm in the bread basket, the kitchen smells orgasmic.

“Ves, I love her!” Cade shouts. When Arun and Ves come out of their book-infused stupor, he waves his hand at them to go back to what they were doing. “No, I wish. I work in finance. Specifically financial crime risk assessment. I worked as an analyst in France for many years until my firm moved me to New York.” He gives her a nod of approval when he sees her work with the potatoes. Thankfully, he gave her an easy job. “What about you? Arun said you’re a film liaison? What is that like?”

“Yeah, I help coordinate location work, but more importantly, at least to me, I do a lot of the groundwork to show film and TV stakeholders how our town can work for them. There’s a ton of places all over the U.S.—the world, really—that could be revitalized. So many movies get tax incentives to film in Canada and Australia these days that people don’t always think to look closer to home.”

“You’re doing a good thing for your town, Elisha.” Quietly, he adds, “You’ve been good for Ves, too. He looks more than just content—he looks happy.”

Finally, an opening for her to dig a bit more. But just as she’s about to ask him to share some stories about Ves, there’s a commotion at the front door. Suddenly, more people are pouring into the house. It then hits Elisha: this is a real, actual adult dinner party.

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