By the Book (6 page)

“Oh. The book.
Your
book, I mean.”

“I’m inclined to send you on your way with a
please don’t tell me my baby’s ugly
while I crawl into the corner and suck my thumb.”

“Shut
up
.” I laughed as I looked at the paperback, titled
Act of Contrition
, then flipped it over to read the blurb on the back.

“Honestly. I’ll be constantly hitting refresh on my e-mail in-box or checking my text messages until I hear from you again.”

I caught his eye, then quickly looked away.

“I mean, for your opinion on the book. I’ll be scared you’ll tell me I suck more than a Bangkok lady boy. Bit of a late birthday present, and unwrapped because I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Daniel shrugged. “Hope the day went well.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “You could say that.”

Again his brow lifted.

I wanted to tell him and didn’t want to tell him. Two blokes, sitting in a diner waiting for their order to arrive? Normally if one had a story like
mine
to tell, he wouldn’t hold back.
Listen to how much of a stud I am
. But Daniel and I had known each other a relatively short period of time, and I didn’t know if sexual exploits were up for discussion, if our dynamic was such that telling him would score me man points or destroy any hope of male bonding.

“I don’t know how far I can go.”

“All the way, of course.” He winked.

“Well, when you put it like that.” I laid the book to one side on the table, tapped it a few times absentmindedly before clasping my hands together in front of me. “What does every man want for his birthday?”

“An Xbox?”

Smiling, I shook my head.

“Candy and hand jobs? Wait—a pony!”

“You want a
pony
for your birthday?”

“Okay, nipple clamps and a butt plug.”

“You’re a sick man, Daniel Cross.”

“Yeah, I mean, how many butt plugs does one man need?”

My eyebrows shot up, and I had no idea what to say to that, eventually settling on, “You’re in the right arena though.”

“Your girlfriend bought you a b—”

“No, she did
not
.”

“Damn. So you were saying?”

I took a deep breath.
Jesus. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation
. “Her best friend.” My heart thundered.

“What about her…? No
way
.” Daniel’s words drew the attention of surrounding diners, and he waited a few seconds for their scrutiny to die away, then leaned in closer. “She…? You…?”

I nodded. Once. Twice. Slowly.

“Jesus. Now I
definitely
have to meet her.” Daniel sat back, shaking his head, a grin of admiration splitting his face. “I don’t know whether to shake your hand or…” A quiet huff of laughter. “She gave you a free pass to run off with her best mate for the night?”

“Oh no.” Now I’d said it, now he’d accepted it, it was
almost
fun. Certainly a relief that he hadn’t reacted with, well, whatever. “She was there.”

“Reece Hutton. I think you’re my hero.”

“And to think I was nervous about telling you.”

“Are you kidding? I mean, who hasn’t had a threesome at least once in their life?”

“You have?”

“Sure. Both flavors.”

“What?”
Christ. Someone up there is having a monumental laugh at my expense. We have more in common than Daniel realizes and…and…

“I mean, it’s easy to score these days, but it’s usually with casual friends, you know? Your girlfriend and her best mate, though? Fuck. I think there’s a South Sea island with an obscure tribe who worship you as their god. Well, damn if that doesn’t piss all over my pathetic pseudo birthday gift.”

I followed the direction of his nod, looked at the paperback again. “How many people can say they’ve had a book published?”

Daniel leaned across the table. “How many people can say they’ve fucked two people at once?” he whispered.

“Well, you have,” I shot back.

“And aren’t we just a couple of damnable perverts?”

The world froze. The background noise in the diner faded to nothing, and Daniel and I existed in our own little bubble until—

The bubble popped.

“I have a newfound admiration for you, Reece.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But it’s refreshing to meet someone who freely admits to being
adventurous
,” he added, and the way he said that one word sent a shiver down my spine.

I had no idea what to make of the directness of his stare and had the feeling that his leaning forward again, grinning, was his way of breaking the spell he kept weaving.
I’ll say something to make Reece uncomfortable, then pretend I didn’t, just to keep him on his toes. I’m Daniel Cross. I’m in charge
. “Yeah, uh, is it all right if I show this to Georgia as well?” I laid my hand atop the book as if to remind myself it was there.

“Here you go, gentlemen. Well…” Piper paused by our table before laying down the plates. “Gentleman and Reece. Bugger, I forgot the cutlery; gimme a minute.”

“Are you allowed to say ‘bugger’ to a customer?” I asked.

“I wasn’t saying it
to
you. I was saying it
towards
you.” Seconds later, she returned with our knives and forks, grinned at Daniel, then stuck her tongue out at me.

“That makes all the difference. Shouldn’t you say ‘bon appétit’ or something?”

“Shut up and eat your egg salad, bitch. I’ll get your coffees.”

“You know,” Daniel gestured at her retreating back with his fork. “I like her. I like her a lot.”

“Fancy yourself as a ladies’ man, do you?”

“Ladies, men, anything with a pulse,” Daniel shot back. “And feel free to pass the book on to Georgia after you’re done. If I’d known there were two of you, I would have brought another copy.”

“It’s all right. We share everything.”

He looked up. Smirked. “I’ll just bet you do, Hutton. I’ll just bet you do.” Those perfectly arched eyebrows lifted, and he threatened the ghost of a smile, instead licking his lips. Slowly. “I know what you meant. I’m just being a slut again. I’m also an attention whore, so I’d love to know what you both think. I just hope you don’t hate it.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll sit you down and get you drunk before telling you which parts sucked.”

“Cool. I’m always up for a drunken session of…criticism.”

“Jesus, Cross.”

“What? What?”

“If I was a woman, I’d think you were—” Suddenly my throat dried, closed up.

“You’d think I was what? Flirting? Here’s the thing. Do you have a pulse?”

Oh fuck, yes. Judging by the pounding in my ears, yes
. “Of course.”

“Then I’m flirting.”

“Coffee, coffee, coffee. Get that down your necks. No wisecracks from you, Hutton,” Piper warned.

I don’t think I’m capable.

“Daniel, enjoy your coffee. Reece, I don’t much care. Enjoy your meal, or whatever bollocks polite waitstaff come out with. Ciao.” Piper gave a demure finger wave and disappeared, leaving us to it.

Whatever “it” was.

“What a woman,” Daniel said, looking after her. “So, Georgia.”

“Christ, do you ever switch it off?”

“You think I have an off switch? Aw, does this mean you won’t speak to me anymore?” He pouted. “And I
so
need your approval.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well, if it’s approval you’re after, I’m sure Georgia will want to meet you after she finds out I’ve been gifted a paperback from a real live novelist.”

“I’d love to meet her. You could always invite me round for dinner and spend the evening stroking my”—he reached for his coffee mug, downed a large gulp, and set it down again. He paused—“ego.”

“You…”

“Yes?” Those raised brows, the wide smile. Daniel Cross couldn’t look innocent if his life depended on it.

“Nothing.”

“Anyway, won’t Georgia mind about you inviting me round without her say-so, if she’ll be there too?”

“When did I…?”

“Just now.”

“I did?” I felt like I was on a runaway train with no emergency stop. “Well, maybe dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yes. It’s that meal between lunch and supper. One evening. And no, she won’t mind at all. She’d love to meet you.”

“As long as you don’t talk me up, make me seem all glamorous. I’ll turn out a disappointment when I show up on the doorstep looking like a normal human being. But be warned. I drink like a fish, and I won’t do the washing up afterwards.”

“Ah, that’s the price of my lamb casserole. You’re not vegetarian, are you? You do eat meat?”

“I definitely do.” He laughed.

Well done, Hutton. Completely the wrong thing to say
. The undercurrent was there.

“Just don’t go silent on me again, even if you
are
occupied with fucking your girl’s friends; I’ll get paranoid about what you think of
Contrition
.”

“I told you. We’ll get you drunk.”

“And take advantage?”

“No off switch. Of course,” I muttered.

“Alcohol helps
any
situation, Reece. Whether it’s taking advantage
or
soothing my bruised writerly ego.”

“Good. We’ll do that then.” I laughed, comfortable
and
jittery in his company. “I’ll speak to Georgia. See what she says. We’ll arrange a date.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Ah. There it was again. That undercurrent.

I just hoped I was a strong enough swimmer.

Chapter Four

“So.” Georgia speared the last piece of lamb with her fork and jabbed it in midair in my direction before eating. “Are you gonna tell him what we’re
really
thinking?”

Bitch
, I said with my eyes.
You deliberately waited until I was sipping my wine before you said that.

“Pardon?” I cleared my throat and took another sip before she could speak again, this time to fortify myself rather than wash down the last of dinner.

Daniel, also seated at my small—intimate—dining table, looked from Georgia to me and back again.

Georgia’s gaze met Daniel’s, and she smiled, licking her lips. Ostensibly to taste the last of the casserole sauce, but she knew damned well what she did to me.

And with any luck, Daniel too.

“Yes. I think we should tell him why he’s really here.” She spoke to me but looked at Daniel, and his eyebrows lifted…in expectation? Curiosity?

He definitely wasn’t bothered if his barely there smile was anything to go by. A vague twist of his lips spoke of amusement rather than discomfort. And the fact that he didn’t break eye contact with
my girlfriend
spoke a thousand words.

Not yet, Georgia, I silently urged. Not yet, for God’s sake.

“Sure, we’re being friendly. Reece invited an acquaintance round for dinner.” Georgia’s voice trailed away, and she lifted her wineglass to her lips, drained it in one go, and set it back down again.

The way she stroked the stem between forefinger and thumb made my eyes water.

If I wasn’t mistaken, it drew Daniel’s attention too, if only for a split second before he returned to maintaining some semblance of respectability. The waver in his posture was gone so quickly I wondered if it had ever occurred at all and if he, too, felt the need to cross his legs.

“Specifically so we can all get to know each other better,” Georgia drawled, resting her elbow on the table, cupping her face in one curved palm. Ever the coquette, she inclined her head and—
dear God, Georgia, did you just bat your eyelashes?

Daniel cleared his throat, leaned back in the dining chair, and ran his hands along his legs. Just once, but enough to tell me Georgia had aroused his interest.

Not scared him, no. Daniel Cross was too secure to be unsettled by some mild flirtation, but this change from genial dinner companion to wineglass-stem-stroking vixen probably made him wonder when the switcheroo had happened.

I doubted very much that a glance from Georgia’s baby blues had his palms sweating, so I put it down to a desperate need to do something with his hands. But even that need would suggest she’d riled him. Shaken, if only temporarily, his rock-solid foundations.

I caught a glimpse of the way his fingers curved over his thighs, and something flickered in the back of my mind, one step away from enlightenment.

Daniel’s hands completed their slow reach to his knees and paused. Turned, fingers to the insides of his thighs, elbows slightly bent as his hands returned, but only halfway. He stopped, fingertips playing against the seam of his inside leg. Barely. Only enough to be noticed by someone who was desperately trying not to notice.

“Hmm,” was all he said, breaking a silence I hadn’t even noticed had descended.

Startled, I flicked a glance at Georgia. Her eyes met mine, but I knew she’d been looking at Daniel’s hands too. Her gaze had lifted to look at me, so they must have previously been scrutinizing something lower.

And that teasing enlightenment finally revealed itself in the knowledge Daniel had done it deliberately. Unsettled? No. Aware of Georgia’s flirtation? Of course. Possessed of the ability to respond in ways so subtle I questioned my reasoning on the matter? Definitely.

Something told me Daniel was keeping the rest of himself still so our attention would be drawn to the most restrained of movements, even if the only movement came from his hands on his thighs, fingers leading the way to—

“But…” Licking her lips with noticeably more relish than when she’d had food in her mouth rather than Daniel on her mind, she closed the gap between herself and my other guest by little more than an inch.

But I saw it. And Daniel would too if he had a writer’s attention to detail. If he knew how these things advanced by degrees.

“There’s something we’ve been skirting around all evening that none of us have tackled head-on,” Georgia said in a not-whisper. Quiet, low, seductive. This was her “I’m talking to you and only you” voice. The one that could have formed any words known to man and made them all sound like
you are the center of my universe.

“Oh?” Daniel’s eyebrows lifted, defining amusement. “Enlighten me.”

Georgia’s smile grew wider, and her gaze dipped—no doubt to Daniel’s mouth; she had a thing for lips and what they could do to her and
oh God, she’s thinking about him in that way; she wants him.