Page 57 of The Spite Date (Small Town Sisterhood #1)
NATURALLY…
Bea
Simon’s body is my new favorite wonder of the world.
I love learning everything about it.
Like that he’s highly ticklish for a few minutes after sex. That he’s genetically blessed, and that and some running and push-ups are all he claims it takes to keep his flat abs and biteable pecs and shoulders. That his penis is absolutely perfect.
It’s bigger than I expected when I finally see it in the light. Not circumcised. Silky smooth and thick and beautiful.
And highly effective.
He’s playing with my fingers as we cuddle on the table, my hand resting on his chest, my head too, listening to his heartbeat. “Your favorite movie is… Honeymoon for One ?” he guesses.
We’re at least a dozen questions deep in a game of let me guess things about you , and it’s so perfect and serene and comfortable, I never want to leave.
I furrow my brow. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that movie.”
“Razzle Dazzle flick. Quite good. Features a studly young British man who aims a volleyball incorrectly and is rather an arse about it, hitting a lovely woman, thus setting up the plot for Jonas Rutherford’s character to come to her rescue.”
“You think my favorite movie of all time is a made-for-TV Razzle Dazzle flick that you had a minor role in?”
“You’re my girlfriend, so by default, you’re obligated to say yes.”
I laugh so hard I snort. “You—you are the best kind of ridiculous.”
“Bloody hell. Here I go, exceeding expectations already. We are doomed, Beatrice. Doomed.”
“ Ever After ,” I tell him. “My favorite movie of all time is Ever After .”
“The Cinderella retelling?”
“My mom used to watch it all the time when I was growing up. It would get to the end, and she’d say, ‘See, Bea? She saves herself. It’s always a better movie when she saves herself,’ and my dad would ask if he could please assist if she ever needed to save herself, and she’d say only if he followed directions, and then they’d both laugh, and it always made me feel safe and happy, like nothing bad would ever happen because my parents loved each other and me and my brothers too much for anything bad to happen. ”
“I suppose that’s a reasonable second choice for a favorite movie.” He hugs me tighter and kisses my hair. “And Bea? You’ve done a remarkable job of saving not only yourself, but your family too. I have no doubt they’d be incredibly proud of you. And grateful as well.”
My eyes water, but I’m smiling as I blink the tears away. “So you know, my dad set the bar high. Reeeeeaalllly high. My expectations in this relationship are going to be absurd.”
“Darling, I’m acquainted with at least one of your ex-boyfriends, and I’m afraid, despite the example you had set for you in your youth, you don’t recognize the bar.”
I poke him in the stomach. “ Hey .”
“And then you went and decided to invite this guy to a late-night rendezvous?—”
“Booty call,” I correct.
He ignores me. “When I’ve warned you time and time again that my greatest pleasure in life is underperforming expectations.”
“Simon?”
“Yes?”
“If I told you I wanted pancakes for breakfast tomorrow, what would you do?”
“If I answer honestly, you’re making a liar of me, and if I answer dishonestly, you’ll know I’m lying.”
I can’t stop smiling. “How would you get me pancakes?”
“First, I’d secretly ask input from your roommate and brothers about your favorite kind of homemade pancakes, if there’s a mix you’re absurdly addicted to or if you prefer all fresh ingredients, and then I’d add sausage and bacon—both the American and the British kind, because I cannot make one without the other in case I ever convince everyone in my life of the superiority of British bacon—and likely a fruit salad, precut from the store for time’s sake, and I would arrive at your apartment ready to cook a full hour before you usually awake, with a local diner on speed dial in case I bungle it all to hell. ”
I shift onto my elbow and lift myself to look at him.
He purses his lips together and looks away, which cracks me up.
“You’re a terrible bad boyfriend.”
He looks at me again. “You’re merely saying that because I discovered your secret love of those horrific marshmallow treats and made sure you had enough that you’d make yourself quite ill on them, thus never desiring them again.”
The way his eyes twinkle as he says it, the way he’s tucking my hair behind my ear, the way this is just so comfortable and easy even while it’s not easy at all to find private time together right now—there’s no I could fall in love with this man .
There’s I’m already there .
“Why have I not taken you up on that offer to have your roommate supervise my children so that we can see each other more often?” he murmurs while I settle back against him.
“Because she’s been distracted and busy and stressed about her sister. I’m not sure she’s sleeping more than three or four hours a night right now. And also because you know you’re going to miss your boys when you leave in a few weeks.”
“But I shall miss you too.”
“I can come see you easier than they can. And I’ll have you all to myself then.”
“I’ll be terribly busy for some of those weeks.”
“Griff’s playing a series in LA not long after you leave, and I’ve never seen LA at all. Vacations haven’t been a high priority the past ten years.” And things have finally been picking up for the burger bus, so I could afford to take a week or so off.
“Why are you so very perfect?”
I shake my head. “That’s the afterglow talking.”
“No, I’ve thought it to myself more than once lately.
When you showed Eddie how to throw a baseball after lunch the other day.
When you bandaged my finger after my failed attempt at cutting a watermelon.
When you sent me that very kind text message reminding me that every parent has hard days, harder when they’re flying solo.
And then that other text message about touching your own breasts and thinking of me.
That was top notch as far as perfection and text messages go. ”
“Those are little things that anyone could do.”
He shifts on the table to face me, as serious as I’ve ever seen him, short of when he was mad after that dinner at Ryker’s place.
“But I trust you have pure intentions when you do them. You take in family and give them a place to belong in your heart. Not just your brothers. Daphne too. Me. My boys. Their mother. The world I grew up in, the world I’ve known my entire life—this idea of family was quite foreign.
Even the relationship I’ve had with Lana—while we’re rather good friends, were it not for the boys, I dare say she would not choose to be part of my life, and I could hardly blame her.
But you have family. You make it, you have it, and you give it, you make me feel as though you want me to be part of it, and it feels wonderful to belong to something I never thought was real. ”
I blink against another wave of hot eyes and stinging nose. “You are a good man, Simon, and you deserve the very best family. It’s an honor to share mine with you.”
“Yours is the best for you being the heart of it.”
“You’re very good at making a girl feel special.”
He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “You are special.”
I snuggle closer to him, feeling his cock harden against my thigh as I kiss his neck. “You are too.”
“Nowhere near as special as you.”
“ Simon .”
“Do you know every time you chide me, I think of ten more things I would like to do with you? And not all of them involve being naked.”
“Just most?”
“Naturally. Though I am hoping that you arrive at my murder mystery dinner party in that red dress you wore on our first date.”
“I still can’t believe you’re—no, wait. Yes, I can.”
“I’ve been working on the script for it. It’s terrible.”
I laugh and press myself against his erection. “Is it?”
“The worst thing I’ve ever written.”
“Simon.”
He slides his hand over my hip, smiling. “Truly. You wearing the red dress will be necessary to distract everyone from realizing it’s rubbish.”
There’s a knock at the back door.
“Bloody hell,” Simon mutters.
“Boss? Just heard on the radio that a police cruiser is headed this way.”
I growl softly.
Probably Logan.
He’s hung out near my bus a few times this summer, scaring people away. It would fit for him to be the one to catch us out here.
Simon smiles at me. “Will you growl at me like that the next time we have an hour alone? I quite like it.”
How is it possible that I’m both irritated and the happiest I’ve felt in ages? “I quite like you.”
He scoots off the table and reaches for his pants. “Do you have a list of secret parking places so that we might do this again tomorrow night?”
“I’ll work on that.”
“Have you other clothes?”
“Floor of the kitchen.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want anyone else to have the pleasure of seeing you in only your lingerie.”
My breasts tingle. “Say lingerie again.”
“Tomorrow, when you send me the secret midnight bus location. Though I suppose I could simply buy this place instead. Then I would give us permission to be on the land.”
“ Simon .”
He grins.
And then he pockets my underwear.
Both the thong and the bra.
Butch knocks at the door again. “Got about three minutes, boss.”
Simon disappears into the kitchen and reemerges with the rest of my clothes. We rush through getting dressed, and then he’s kissing me hard and fast before dashing out the back door.
“We’ll follow you,” he calls. “Just in case you have trouble.”
He’s my trouble.
My favorite trouble.
And I don’t mind at all.
In fact, I think I love it.