“But he does know about the two of you,”Elizabeth clarified. “I told Matty he needed to be up front withhim.”
“And I was.” Matt turned his attention awayfrom the staff swapping out his cutlery and refilling his glasseswith impressive speed. “But neither of us have seen Scott in personsince we…”
Decided we were in love. While at a sexresort.
“Got serious,” Matt finished, and I knewwe’d been on the same perilous wavelength.
“Well, for god’s sake, don’t make a scene.”Catherine put her soup spoon down. “This is our mother’s birthdayweekend. Not a venue for another of your tired romanticdramas.”
Okay, I’ll be asking aboutthatlater…
“I should have asked before I invited him,”Elizabeth said with a sigh.
“Maybe that would be a good policy toimplement in the future.” Matt tugged at the slightly open collarof his shirt.
“Not to change the subject too abruptly,”Briony spoke up. “But I would like to circle back to the bearattack. What was that like, Uncle Matthew?”
Not as scary as the prospect of seeing mybrother tomorrow, that was for sure.
* * * *
“Well, this is a shit show,” I said as Mattclosed the bedroom door behind us. I hadn’t trusted myself to speakuntil I knew we were totally alone and would remain unheard. Also,until I was sure I could talk about it without crying. And Icouldn’t look at him. I stalked to the sofa and used the back of itfor balance as I took off my strappy heels.
Matt put a calming hand on my shoulder.“It’s going to be okay. What awful scenario are you picturing?”
I tossed up my hands. “I don’t know. I keephaving visions of a heated conversation that ends with him throwingyou across a table and upending a punch bowl.”
Matt found my zipper and tugged it down.“Scott and I are grown men. We don’t settle things with our fists.Anymore.”
I didn’t ask for further explanation on thatone.
“Let me guess,” Matt went on, peeling mydress down my arms. “You’ve never had a relationship with a grownman.”
“Does a brief fuck-buddy relationship with athirty-year-old count?” That wasn’t exactly a relationship. Mattknew that my dating history, the actual dating part, was amateur inthe extreme.
“Was the thirty-year-old the type of guy whowould wreck a garden party?”
“He once kicked a shopping cart for rollinginto his car,” I admitted.
“Well, as someone who’s never done that, Ithink you should trust me when I say that no punch bowl–relatedtragedies will occur tomorrow.” He kissed my neck. “And you shouldalso trust me when I say that I know what’s good for you.”
The dress whispered down my body to pool onthe floor.
“And right now, I think what’s good foryou…” He unhooked my bra and let that fall away too. “Would begetting bent over and railed from behind.”
His palms tickled as they skimmed down mythighs, and I giggled. “I thought you were going to pin medown.”
His breath teased my ear. “What gave you theimpression that we’re only doing this once tonight?”
Faster than I could respond, his hand was onmy neck, and he forced me firmly down over the back of thecouch.
I heard his zipper.
“Get those panties off or I’ll tear themoff,” he ordered sternly.
I hesitated for a split second to decidewhether to let him, then came down on the side of saving thepanties.
My dragon wouldn’t hesitate to rip myclothes off.