Just then, she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, a small, innocuous gesture that nevertheless told him she wanted the same.
Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers.
He closed his eyes, enjoying being near to her and sharing this intimate moment. Her hands splayed on his chest, and she sighed, but she didn’t pull away. He pressed his lips to hers a second time, then a longer third, before lifting his head.
Her lips curved up, a light flush touching her cheeks. “Thank you.”
That made him laugh, and he hugged her again. “You’re very welcome.”
She slid her arms around him. “You’re a good kisser.”
“Well, thank you for that.”
“And thank you for saying you’re glad I survived.”
“I am. I missed you, you know.”
She swallowed. “I missed you too.”
He sighed. “You want me to go?”
She gave a little shake of her head.
He smiled. “Come on then. I’ve got an idea.”
Chapter Seven
Niall held out a hand, and Genie gave a shy smile and slid hers into it. He waited while she picked up her cane, and then she followed him across the bedroom and back into the living room.
She thought she was being amazingly calm considering inside her fireworks were going off all over the place. She tried to calm herself, knowing it hadn’t been a romantic embrace. It had been born out of a need to comfort, out of grief and sadness. They were practically siblings, and it was little more than the kind of kiss a brother would give his sister if she were on the verge of tears.
Only it wasn’t, of course. She’d have thrown up if Jonah or Beck had kissed her like that, on the mouth, with such tenderness and affection that it had turned her insides as gooey as a melted Malteser.
That didn’t mean it was a romantic kiss, though. She was sensible enough to see the truth. They’d both been sad, and he’d wanted to comfort her, to tell her he loved her—the way one sibling loves another—and that he was glad she’d survived the accident.
And yet…
“Sit down,” he said, jolting her out of her musings, and she sat on the sofa. He walked across to the slim black box beside the TV, picked up the two controllers, and pressed the button to turn the console on.
“Gaming?” She raised an eyebrow, not sure if she was in the mood. “You want me to beat you again at Call of Duty?”
He grinned. “Hold on.” He ejected the current disk, selected one from the pile next to the console, and inserted it. Then he flicked on the TV and came to sit beside her.
He gave her one of the controllers. She laughed as the screen came on to show Little Big Planet. “Seriously?”
“There is a method to my madness.” He loaded up the game, and when it came to selecting characters, took her controller and scrolled down the little sack figures until he came to one dressed as Wonder Woman. Genie pressed the fingers of her free hand to her mouth. It was Ciara’s character. Last time they’d been home on leave, the two girls had played this game with Niall and Jonah, and Ciara had fallen in love with the tiny sack figure with its blue costume and red cape.
“I’ll take yours,” he said, choosing the one in the Jack Sparrow outfit. “Come on.”
He started up a chapter, and they proceeded to take the characters through the adventure, laughing as they fell off cliffs, got burned on hot coals, and electrocuted on wire fences.
“Do you do this often?” She negotiated a jump, failed, and fell into the flames. “Damn it. Take Ciara’s character out, I mean.”
“I’ve done it a couple of times.” He tried the jump and made it. “Ha. Sucker. I don’t know why, but it feels like a connection to her. Is that stupid?”
“No, not at all. I guess it’s no different than wearing a loved one’s sweater.” Still, his sensitivity surprised her. He was right—it did feel like a connection to Ciara.
It was difficult to concentrate—her brain wanted to think about the kiss, how it had felt and what it meant, but she forced the thoughts away to dwell on later when she was alone.
Instead, she started thinking about the lists on the table. All those things that Ciara had wanted to do… It made Genie immeasurably sad that she would never be able to fulfil those dreams. She had to find a way to deal with her grief rather than dwell on it, or her damned knee was never going to heal.
They played for a while longer, until they reached the end of the level, and then Niall switched it off and they finished off their final drinks.
“I’ve been thinking,” Genie said.
“Uh-oh.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, and leaned forward to pick up Ciara’s bucket list. “While we were playing, I was thinking about what you said about having a connection to Ciara. You were right—I need that at the moment. I suppose I’m not quite ready to say goodbye to her yet.”
“Perhaps it’s because you missed the funeral,” he suggested.
“Maybe.” She ran her fingers over the list. “I’m not an idiot—I know we have to move on, and we can’t spend the rest of our lives grieving. But it’s only been six weeks, and I need to carry that connection on for a while, you know?”
He nodded, and she wondered if he was thinking about Sinead, who clearly wasn’t able to move on yet either. “So…” he said.
She tapped the list in her hand. “I thought I might do some of Ciara’s bucket list, as she can’t do them herself.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Not all of them, that would be silly, but I might pick a few. I thought it might make it feel as if she’s not that far away, you know?”
He smiled. “Sure. I’ll tell you what—I’ll do it with you.”
She stared at him. “Seriously?”
“If you want,” he added. “If it’s something you’d rather do on your own, I’d understand.”
She had thought to do it on her own, but equally she could see he wasn’t ready to let his sister go yet either. And it could be fun to have a go at a few of the things together.
The kiss fluttered through her mind as if a gust of wind had whipped the torn up shreds of the memory into an eddy, but she pushed it away. This was about Ciara, not about trying to get into Niall’s boxers. “Of course not. It would be fun.”
He grinned. “So what’s our first task?”
Genie sat up straight and glanced through the list. “We’ll choose at random, shall we? If it’s anything too strenuous like the bike from Cape Reinga to Invercargill, we’ll choose again. And we both get one veto.”
He laughed. “Okay. Go on then, pick one.”
Her heart racing a little, Genie closed her eyes, circled her finger over the paper, and plonked it down. She read out the result.
“Take cooking lessons.”
Niall pulled a face. “I hate cooking.”
“Even more of a reason to take lessons then.” She winked at him. “You can veto.”
“Not this early on in the game. I have to keep that in case there’s something I really don’t want to do.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno. Learn Irish dancing or something.”
She chuckled and leaned back. “You don’t like dancing?”
“I don’t mind the odd waltz or foxtrot, but I wouldn’t tap dance if you paid me.”
She hadn’t known he could do the waltz. The thought of him in a suit, spinning her around the dance floor, gave her a little glow inside.
He raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“I’m just thinking about you in a suit.”
“Ain’t never gonna happen, girl.”
She waved the list. “There’s one on here that says go to a movie premiere—you’d have to wear a suit then.”
“Nope. I’d refuse and wear jeans, and we’d get escorted off the premises, and you’d be terribly embarrassed.”
She leaned her head on her hand, tiredness finally beginning to take over. “Didn’t you wear a s
uit to the funeral?”
Looking down, he rested a hand on her leg, just below her knee, the warmth comforting on the wounded limb. “I wore black trousers and a black tie with a white shirt. It was too hot for a jacket.”
Sadness filtered through Genie at the thought that Ciara had been cremated without her being there. “I never said goodbye,” she whispered.
“That’s why we’re doing this.” He gestured at the paper. “This can be your goodbye.”
“So we’re really going to do it?”
“Of course. Look, Kole has a mate who’s a chef.”
“Oh yeah, I met him once. Um…Fox, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. Nice guy. He runs cooking classes occasionally. I’ll call him and see if he’s got anything on at the moment.”
She nodded and nestled into the sofa cushion, struggling to keep her eyes open. “Are you going now?”
“You want me to?”
She shook her head.
He rubbed her knee gently. “Then I’ll stay for a while.”
Her eyes drifted shut, but he continued to stroke her leg, soothing and comforting, as if he was aware of the ache inside her that wouldn’t go away, and wanted somehow to ease her pain.
*
When Beck came in around two in the morning, Genie awoke to discover that Niall had left. It was warm in the house, but he’d removed her shoes and placed a sheet over her. His thoughtfulness made her smile.
“Come on, sleepy.” Beck led her through to the room she always stayed in when she returned home, kissed her forehead, and went out, closing the door behind him. Genie stripped, leaving just her knickers on, and climbed beneath the cool sheets. She turned onto her side, noting with surprise that for once there was no twinge in her knee, and looked out at the stars.
Now she was alone, she let her thoughts drift to the kiss. Deep down, she was certain it had been an affectionate gesture, born out of sadness and a need to comfort one another. And yet… The way he’d brushed across her bottom lip with his thumb, and the light in his eyes when she’d looked up at him, every cell in her body longing for him to kiss her… She could have sworn it was more than a consolatory act. It had been so innocent—not a hint of tongue, and while his hand had cupped her cheek, the other hand had stayed very properly on her hip without straying. And yet it had felt incredibly erotic, so intensely intimate. Was it all in her imagination, or had he felt it too? Was he lying awake now thinking about it, or had he put it from his mind the moment he walked out of the room? There was no way to be sure.
But as sleep overcame her once again, the memory of that tender, chaste embrace blew a soft breath across the embers of the feelings that had never completely died.
*
The next day, Genie was having breakfast out on the deck—two poached eggs, toast, and coffee—when her mobile jangled to indicate a new text. It was from Niall.
You around at one-ish?
Her heart rate increased as she read the words. “For God’s sake,” she scolded herself out loud. She’d dreamed about him all night, too, or at least it had felt like it—every time she floated near to waking, it had been with the memory of his lips on hers, the scent of him wrapping around her, fresh and summery and clean.
“What’s up?” Beck came onto the deck carrying a bowl so full of muesli it was nearly overflowing.
She ignored the question. “Got enough cereal there, dude?”
“I’m hungry.”
“Clearly.”
Undaunted, he grinned, sat opposite her, and dug his spoon into the oats. “How are you feeling?”
Yawning, she pushed her plate away, leaned back, and stretched. “Better. I slept well.” Apart from the erotic dreams. She didn’t add the last bit.
“Good. You looked tired last night. You didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”
“I dozed off. Niall put the sheet over me.”
“Ah, right. You and he okay?”
She picked up a piece of crust and concentrated on mopping up the last of the egg yolk. “I think so. He apologized for not calling me in the hospital, and he said he was glad I’m home, so that’s something.”
Beck nodded, chewing his muesli. “I’m sorry about Sinead. I thought that was uncalled for.”
Genie shrugged. “Me too, but there was no point in making a fuss about it. I can understand why the Brennans want to blame someone for Ciara’s death. It just hurts that they’ve chosen me.”
“It’ll pass. Give it time.”
“Yeah.” Genie wasn’t so sure, but there was no point in discussing it.
“So what are you up to today?”
She looked at the text again. “Niall wants to see me.”
“What for?”
“Dunno. Probably something to do with cooking lessons.” Beck’s eyebrows rose in query, so she told him about Ciara’s bucket list and what she and Niall had decided to do.
He laughed. “Great idea.”
“I thought it might be a nice thing to do.”
“It is. Sinead might be pleased when she finds out.”
“I have to admit, that has crossed my mind.” She had to find a way to convince Sinead that she was as devastated as the rest of them that Ciara had died. Maybe then Sinead would accept Genie wasn’t responsible for her daughter’s death and would forgive her. It was a long shot, but with her own mother dead, Genie couldn’t bear the thought that Ciara’s mother would never speak to her again.
Her throat tightened so she pushed the notion away. “The first thing we’re going to do is cooking lessons. Niall has a friend who’s a chef…”
“Fox?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking he’s probably spoken to him and organized something.”
“I’ll be going into town around ten if you want me to drop you off.”
“Nah, it’s okay, I’ll take Charlie.” Charlie was a red Mitsubishi Airtrek that Genie had bought the last time she was home on leave. The first initials of the licence plate were CHL, hence the name.
Beck hesitated and stirred his muesli. “Have you been cleared to drive?”
She paused in the process of lifting the coffee mug to her lips. Shit. She’d completely forgotten about her knee. Her eyes met Beck’s, and she saw the flicker of pity that passed through them. After sipping her coffee, she cleared her throat and replaced the mug on the table. “No, not yet. Maybe I’ll come in with you then.”
“Sure.”
She picked up her phone. Her knee, which had been great all night, twinged, and she winced and rubbed it absently. She’d have to make an appointment with the local surgery—the Army doctor had been very clear that she had to have someone check the wound while she was on leave, as well as insisting she saw a psychologist.
Swiping her thumb across the phone, she leaned back to read the message again. She hit reply.
Sure. Where shall I meet you?
Another message came back almost instantly. By the pier. Should have finished last trip by then.
She replied with a Cool, see you then, and put the phone away. He’d be busy all morning taking tourists out to the Hole in the Rock and finding pods of dolphins for them to photograph.
Unbidden, her cheeks grew warm. She finished off the rest of her coffee and stood to carry the mug back to the kitchen. Blushing? She never blushed! Hopefully, Beck hadn’t noticed. If any of the guys got wind of the fact that she was soft on Niall, she’d never hear the end of it.
Chapter Eight
Genie accompanied Beck into town, and spent an hour with him at Between the Sheets, letting him show her the changes he’d made since she was last home. He was inordinately proud of his bar, and she was happy to listen to him talk, pleased to see his eyes light up and his lips curve beneath the hairy beard she hadn’t quite gotten used to. He was still single, she noticed, with no mention of a girlfriend on the scene.
Beck had married young, to a girl called Josie, but unfortunately eighteen months ago something—Genie had never discovered what
, as both of them refused to talk about it—had gone awry with their marriage and they’d separated. One good thing had come out of it, though. The patter of tiny footsteps on the wooden floor announced the arrival of that item now, and Genie turned around in delight as Edward Sharpe ran across the bar and threw himself into her arms.
“Teddy Bear!” Dropping awkwardly into a half-crouch, she squeezed him tightly, enjoying the answering stranglehold as he flung his little arms around her neck. “Oh, I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too, Auntie Gin!” The boy was the only person apart from Niall who called her Gin.
She kissed his cheek. He looked like an angel, with blond curly hair, rosy red cheeks, and an innocent expression that totally belied his mischievous nature. He wore a gorgeous tiny pair of jeans and his favorite Buzz Lightyear T-shirt. “Look at you—you’ve grown up so much. You must be at least fifteen now.”
He giggled. “You’re so silly! I’m three and a half.”
“Goodness, of course you are.” She hugged him again. He smelled of shampoo and ice cream, not a bad combination.
“Your dress has orange flowers,” he said, fingering the silky fabric.
“It does, that’s right you clever boy.” He was so yummy she could have eaten him with a spoon.
“Oranges are orange, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Why aren’t apples apple then? Why are they green and red?”
“I have no idea,” she said honestly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday, sweetie. Did you have a good time?”
“We went to the swimming pool and I went down the big water slide. Daddy came too and his shorts fell off.”
“And he loves to tell everyone about it.” Beck walked toward them and swung the boy up in his arms. “Hello, tiger.”
“Daddy!” It was Beck’s turn to receive the stranglehold.
Genie pushed herself up, trying not to groan as pain shot through her knee, and forced her lips into a grin. “Your shorts fell off?”
A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) Page 6