A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) (18 page)

“So…how are you?” Josie asked. “Are you sleeping well?”

Genie sipped her coffee, trying to hide a smile and failing.

Josie raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You can’t stop being a doctor even when you’re having coffee with a friend, can you?”

Josie grinned and leaned back in her chair. “It’s difficult to switch it off, and besides, I’m interested. I was hoping to do some undercover work.”

Genie winked at her. “Me too.”

She’d put off calling her sister-in-law, hoping Josie would forget about their discussion. Josie had eventually called her, though, asking when she’d be able to come in. Genie had eventually admitted she’d rather not lie on the couch, and Josie had offered to catch up over coffee instead. Genie had agreed, although she’d suspected that Josie was still going to attempt to grill her, albeit in an informal setting, and she was right.

Two could play at that game, though.

“I’ll tell you what, let’s play a game,” Genie said. “I’ll answer one of your questions, and then you have to answer one of mine.”

Josie rolled her eyes. But she said, “All right. You answer mine first.”

Genie hesitated, looking away. It was Tuesday afternoon, and they were sitting outside Kelly’s bar which was situated on the banks of the Kerikeri inlet. Josie had suggested a venue out of Paihia for a change, and Genie had happily agreed. She liked Kerikeri. Jonah lived and worked there, and although she loved Paihia and the rest of the Bay of Islands, it was nice to go somewhere different.

“No,” she said eventually. “I’m not sleeping well.”

“Bad dreams?”

“Yeah.”

“About the accident?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Tell me about one of them.”

Genie smiled. “First, you have to answer a question.”

“Jeez. Okay.”

Genie thought about what to ask. She knew her brother was still smitten with his ex. Technically, they were still married, but they would have been separated for two years in December, and that meant Josie would be able to file for a divorce.

Genie was determined that wasn’t going to happen.

She decided to start lightly, though. “How many names did you put on your speed dating list?”

Josie’s lips curved up. “Three.”

“Which ones?”

“I can’t remember their names actually. I doubt I’ll actually date any of them.”

So what was the point? To make Beck jealous? Genie knew Josie would deny it, but that was almost certainly the reason.

“So tell me about your dream,” Josie prompted.

Genie sighed. Picking up a spoon, she stirred it absently through the foam on her coffee. “It’s always the same, actually. I’m in the truck, going along the road. It’s dry and dusty, and there are clouds of dust rising around me, obscuring my vision. Because of that, we don’t see disturbed ground or the bomb. The explosion comes out of nowhere. The truck is thrown up in the air, and then it rolls, over and over. I’m still in my seat because I’m wearing my seat belt, but it’s like being on a rollercoaster—I’m thrown around from side to side, then I’m hanging from the belt upside down, and then I’m slammed back into the seat.”

She swallowed hard, trying to stifle the panic that always rose inside her at the memory. “I can see land and sky and land again. I can’t breathe because my mouth is full of grit and my nostrils are full of smoke. Sometimes I dream there’s fire, but I don’t actually remember there being any, not until later, when the truck exploded. Eventually, the spinning stops. I can remember that moment where it balanced on two wheels—it hung there forever, and I thought it was never going to land. It did of course, crashing down onto its side.”

“Were you still in your seat?”

“Yes, hanging from the belt.”

“Where was Ciara?” Josie’s eyes were gentle.

“Beneath me.” She looked into the distance, but she wasn’t seeing the ducks on the river, or the tourists walking around the old Stone Store. Instead, she saw her best friend slumped there, eyes closed, her face white. So white. “In my dream, I always see playing cards. The Ace of Hearts usually, fluttering around me. I don’t know why—I don’t remember seeing any cards in the truck.”

“Why do you think you see those?”

“I don’t know. I guess the blood on her pale skin looked like the heart on the card.”

Genie jerked as Josie laid a hand on her arm. She looked down—she’d been counting out the beads on her bracelet, two by two, four by four, over and over again. It calmed her, focused her mind on something other than the notion that Ciara was dead, and was never coming back.

She lowered her hand. “Sorry.”

Josie smiled. “Don’t apologize. I’m guessing an Army doctor has discussed PTSD with you?”

Genie lifted her mug and sipped at the coffee. The hot milky liquid brought her back to earth, grounding her, and she took a deep breath and blew it out across the foam slowly. “Yes. I’m not stupid—I know the OCD is starting up again.”

“It went completely for a while?”

“Pretty much.”

Josie nodded. “You know whatever you’re feeling is normal, right? Survivor’s guilt, for example.”

“Yeah. I have that.”

“It’s common to have problems falling or staying asleep. To have nightmares. To be irritable, or angry. It’s all perfectly normal.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you feel angry?”

“Angry? Not really. Guilty, yes.”

A frown flickered on Josie’s brow. “Genie, you have cried, right? You have grieved?”

“That’s another question. My turn first.”

This time Josie didn’t smile, but Genie wasn’t ready for that conversation yet. “Do you still love Beck?”

Josie’s eyes widened comically like a cartoon character’s. “Wow. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“You have to answer. It’s the law. And you have to tell me the truth, because I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“The truth?” Josie caught her bottom lip between her teeth and looked away. “I don’t know.”

She looked so sad that tears pricked Genie’s eyes.
How odd
, she thought. She could cry for another person. Just not for herself. “I think you do,” she whispered.

“Maybe.”

“So don’t you think you should try to make it work again? I know Beck wants to?”

“It’s not going to happen, love.”

“It might if you let him try.”

A spark of panic appeared in Josie’s brown eyes. “I can’t. I’ve tried but I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Genie soothed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Josie rubbed her nose. “It’s all right. It’s just that it’s difficult talking to you about this—you are his sister after all.”

“I’m your friend, too. And I know he’s not the easiest person on the planet to live with. He has issues—don’t we all? But he does love you.” Genie’s heart went out to them. She wished they’d talk to her about what had gone wrong, but they’d obviously both decided at the time that they were going to keep it between themselves. It made it extra hard for their friends and family, who loved them dearly and wanted to help. But the two of them had slid away from each other like icebergs in a cold ocean, and nobody had been able to bring them back together.

She decided to give it one last stab. “Wouldn’t it be worth trying, for Teddy’s sake? He must miss his dad being around.”

Immediately the words left her mouth, she realized it was a mistake. Josie’s expression hardened and her eyes cooled. “Don’t even go there, Genie. Don’t you think my mum’s tried that angle? This is nothing to do with Edward. I hate that he misses Beck, but it would be the worst thing to get back together just because of him. It’s worse for a child to see their parents unhappy than just to see less of them.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s okay.” Josie cleared her throat and took a big swallow of her coffee, and some of the tension went out of her body. “Anyway, we were talking about you. Have you really not cried since Ciara died?”

“No. I’ve tried. But whenever I think of her, I just get a hot feeling behind my eyelids.”

“Why do you think that is?”

Genie shrugged.

Josie watched a fantail bird fluttering in the nearby pear tree. “Tell me about Niall.”

“What about Niall?”

Josie grinned. “This isn’t doctor speak. This is nosey-friend speak. How long has it been going on?”

Genie contemplated denying it, but couldn’t summon the energy. “Oh, not long. About eighteen years, give or take.”

“Ha! Thought so.”

Genie blew out a breath. “It only started a few weeks ago, when I came home. And we didn’t plan it. We’re doing some of Ciara’s bucket list together, and it just…happened.”

“He and Tamsin definitely over?”

“So he says. I think Tamsin hoped otherwise.”

“Yeah, I saw them at the speed dating. She looked pretty angry.”

“He didn’t put her name down, although she listed his. I think she was embarrassed more than anything. There’s nothing worse than opening yourself up to someone and then they stab you in the vitals.”

“Is that what you’re worried will happen with Niall?”

“Of course. Didn’t stop me, though.” Genie chuckled.

Josie finished off her coffee. “So where’s it going?”

“God, I don’t know. Don’t ask me questions like that.”

“Fair enough. But you like him, though?”

Genie trailed a finger through a drop of moisture on the table. “Yes, I like him.”

“Beck said you’re staying at Niall’s place now?”

“Yeah.” He’d talked her into staying the night, and she had, with full intention of returning to Beck’s house. But the morning had come, and she’d stayed the next day, and each evening Niall had taken her to bed and made love to her. Every time, she’d fallen asleep afterward, and when she’d eventually awoken, she couldn’t be bothered to move. He always looked smug the next morning, so she suspected that had been his plan all along.

Deep down, she knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay.
I’m digging my own grave
, she thought, and then winced at the analogy. Her eyes grew hot, but no tears appeared.

Josie frowned, obviously seeing her distress. “Genie, tell me why you haven’t cried. This is doctor me, by the way.”

She’d been so determined she would never tell anyone what happened that day, but all of a sudden, Genie was tired of keeping secrets. “I’ll tell you,” she whispered, “but you’re a doctor, right? You’re not allowed to tell anyone else, even though this is informal and we’re just having coffee?”

“That’s right.”

“Don’t tell Beck.”

“I won’t.”

“And for God’s sake, don’t tell Niall.”

“Genie, I promise.”

So Genie told her.

It was the following Saturday, and they’d taken the boat over to Russell again, although this time Niall took the road toward the town center. It wove through mangroves and then higher through deep bush, rosellas occasionally swooping by the car, brightening up the greenery with their rainbow colors.

Genie was very quiet. She’d been quieter than normal all week, except when he took her to bed, when she was her usual vocal self. He wasn’t sure what was troubling her, whether it was thinking about Ciara, returning to the Army, the accident, or what was happening between the two of them. He had asked once or twice, but she’d moved the conversation on, so she obviously didn’t want to talk about it, and he didn’t want to press her. He felt as if what they had at that moment was fragile, like a snowglobe, full of beauty, but he was wary of handling it with anything other than kid gloves in case it broke in his hands.

He’d booked a night away with the bucket list in mind, hoping it might cheer Genie up, and she’d seemed excited to be going, although once again she’d fallen quiet. He glanced across at her, wondering if she’d changed her mind.

“You okay?” he asked, unable to stop himself. He wanted her to be happy. She had such a lovely smile, and he wanted to make her eyes light up.

She tore her gaze away from the window. “Sure.”

“Only you seem…distracted. If you’ve changed your mind about going away, you only have to say.”
You might break my heart though,
he thought. But he didn’t say it.

Her lips curved a little. “No, I haven’t changed my mind.”

He blew out a breath. “Thank God.”

“Aw.” Her eyes lit with mischievousness. “Afraid you wouldn’t get your leg over again?”

“Absolutely. I’ve thought about nothing else all morning.” It wasn’t a lie, either. Part of him had thought that once he’d slept with her, it would take away the mystery, and the strange attraction that had sparked between them for so long would gradually fade away. It hadn’t. The spark had grown into a roaring fire, and every time they slept together was like throwing lighter fuel on it. He couldn’t get enough of her.

She observed him for a moment. He glanced across warily, recognizing the playful glint in her eye.

“Pull over,” she said.

“What? Why?”

“I want to tell you something.”

He frowned. “Can’t it wait until we get there? We’ll only be about ten minutes.”

“No. Pull over—there, look.” She gestured to a lay-by.

He indicated, slowed, and stopped the car. Genie gestured for him to turn off the engine, so he did. There was nobody else on the road, and when the engine died and he lowered the window, the car filled with the smells and sounds of summer.

“What’s up?” he asked more gently. She’d turned in the seat, and he could sense a restless, edgy air to her.

She wore cropped jeans and a tight black vest with shoestring straps, and she didn’t appear to be wearing a bra. Her nipples showed through the cotton, tight like buttons. It wasn’t cold in the car. He swallowed and fought against a sudden surge of desire.

She moved forward, shifting in her seat so she could lean against him, and she tilted her head to rest her lips against his jaw. Placing soft kisses up to his ear, she whispered, “I want you.”

His heart thudded, sounding loud in his ears. “I want you too.”

“Now.”

He gave a short laugh. “I think we’re a little too old and inflexible for making out in a car in a public place. I’ll dislocate something.”

Her warm breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine. “You don’t have to move.” She touched her tongue to the lobe, and at the same time, the hand that rested on his chest moved down to the button of his jeans.

His eyes widened. “Ah…” She slid down the zipper, and he put his hand over hers. “Not here.”

“Yes, here.” She squeezed her fingers, tightening them around his erection, and he stifled a groan. She chuckled and nibbled his earlobe. “Your lips say no but your body says yes.”

“It’s like a stray dog—it doesn’t do what it’s told.”

“I bet it comes when it’s called though.” In an expert move, she pulled the elastic waist of his boxers out and slipped her hand inside.

“For God’s sake…” He fought with her, but she was surprisingly strong. He was too worried about knocking her knee or receiving an elbow in the balls to manhandle her too much. He managed to catch one of her hands, but she just used the other to free his erection, and before he could stop her, she gave him several long strokes.

All his senses skidded to a halt, and he stopped fighting her. His breath hitched, his lips parting. She wore a look of lazy admiration as she watched her hand repeatedly reveal the head of his erection, then close the skin over it again.

“In a moment,” she said, “I’m going to go down on you, Niall.” Her eyes came up to look into his, filled with heat and desire. She put her mouth close to his ear and continued to stroke him as she spoke huskily. “I’m going to take you in my mouth, and I want you to close your eyes and think about how you’re plunging between my lips. I want you to think about my tongue teasing here…” and she rubbed her thumb over the moisture on the end, “and how I’m going to lick this up.” She grazed her teeth on his earlobe. “And I want you to imagine how it’s going to feel when you finally come and fill up my mouth. You know what? I’m going to swallow it, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”

By now, he was so hard he thought he could have come just listening to her erotic words. But she was obviously determined to do more than just describe the act. Her grip was firm, her touch sure, and when she finally shifted again in the seat and lowered her head, he was unable to do anything except let his head fall back on the headrest and stare up at the roof of the car.

She covered the tip with her mouth, and the sensation of being encased in warm, wet heat caused a long groan to escape him. Sliding her lips down his shaft, she explored him with her tongue. The rough surface stroked across every vein and ridge before she teased the bead of moisture that had formed on the end with the tip of her tongue.

She’d tied her hair back into a ponytail, and he wound it around his fingers before placing a hand on her head, feeling it dip as she slid her lips up and down.
Fuck
, that was sexy. He clenched his fingers, tightening his hold on her hair, and she moaned and sucked harder.

“Jesus. Gin.”

But she wasn’t done with him yet. While one hand massaged his shaft with firm strokes, she set up a relentless pace, taking him deeper in her mouth every time. To his surprise, she lifted her other hand, placed it on top of his where he held her head, and pushed lightly.

Up to that point, he’d let her be the guide as to how deep she took him, not wanting to hurt her or make her gag, but he didn’t have to be told twice. His breathing turning ragged, he held her in place and gave in to the urge to push up his hips, sending him deeper into her mouth. She moaned, coating his erection with saliva to ease his passage inside.

Heat built inside his balls, and his fingers tightened in her hair as she deep-throated him, the first time a woman had done that for him. Just the thought of it would have been his undoing—the act itself was enough to fast forward his climax, and it hit him like a baseball bat. He came hard, feeling jet after jet spurt into her waiting mouth, which she promptly swallowed down, her throat contracting around him.

“
Fuck
.” The word was vehement and heartfelt, and he was far from apologizing for it. He leaned his head back and groaned as his muscles continued to pulse while her mouth milked every last drop out of him.

When she eventually lifted her head, he was like a wrung-out dishcloth, empty and exhausted. He continued to stare at the roof of the car for a few moments longer, then rolled his head to look at her with a mixture of wonder and exasperation.

She wiped delicately at the corners of her mouth. “Mm.”

“Fucking hell.” He looked back at the roof, shaking his head.

She laughed. “What?”

“I just… I can’t… Jesus. You’ve scrambled my brain.”

Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek. “You taste heavenly.” Chuckling, she kissed up his jaw to his ear. “Do you need me to drive?”

“I want…just…give me a minute.” It was like being on a rollercoaster—he needed to regain his equilibrium and wait for the world to stop spinning. “Holy fuck, Gin, where did you learn to do that? No, wait, don’t tell me.”

She gave a wonderfully girlish giggle. “You’d never believe me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If it involves stories about practicing on other men, I really don’t want to know.”

“Oh, it’s not that. When we were first in the Army at Linton base together, some of the girls found an article in a woman’s magazine about training yourself not to gag.”

His eyebrows rose even higher. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. You have to practice on a vibrator. Take it deep into your mouth and hold it there a few times a day. After a while the instinct to gag becomes less strong. We used to practice together. We’d have competitions.” She fought a grin, and lost at the look on his face.

“Far out. If you’re going to tell me stories about practicing on each other again you’ll have to wait—I think I might have a coronary.”

She laughed. “No, I’ve never been into that. Guys all the way for me. But there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Shock filtered through him. He’d been about to say
I love you
, but managed to catch himself.

It had only been a dude’s reaction to her raunchy talk, he told himself, and it wouldn’t have been fair to say something like that to her. Not yet, not when he didn’t know where this was going. Still, the ease with which the words had formed on his lips surprised him. This girl was so open and easy to be with, so wonderfully sexy and giving. It was no wonder he wanted to pour his heart onto a plate for her.

“No,” he said, “there’s nothing wrong with fantasizing.” He lifted a hand to stroke her cheek, and she turned her face to kiss his palm. His heart swelled. For a moment, he let his mind wander, imagining that after their stay away they might return home to his place on a permanent basis. Genie would tell him she’d decided to leave the Army, and she wanted to stay at home for a while, and she’d be there every day when he got home from work, waiting for him.

Then reality kicked in, and he shoved the thought away crossly.
I suppose you also want her barefoot and pregnant
, he scolded himself, letting her go so she could clip her seatbelt back in.
You’re like a bloody caveman, Brennan.

But as he turned on the engine and pulled away, he could only think that the scenario he’d envisaged wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.