by Penny Reid
Lucy was holding her stomach, laughing so hard she didn’t seem to care that she’d gotten soap all over the front of her shirt.
“Looks like you’ve aroused a dormant hunger in Hampton,” she managed to say, then doubled over laughing at her own joke.
“Christ! He won’t take no for an answer.” Despite the circumstance, and much to my surprise, I found I was laughing too as I attempted to evade the newfie’s persistent advances.
“Just . . . let him . . . finish, he won’t . . . take long,” she gasped, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands as Hampton chased me around the dog pen.
This was half horrifying, half hilarious. I couldn’t stand still long enough to open the door, because every time I stood still, Hampton was on me.
“What? No! I don’t want him to finish. Go find another leg, Hampton.” I tried to gently kick him away, but he barked happily.
“He thinks you’re being coy.”
“I swear, this dog would make an excellent tighthead prop, he’d be unbeatable in a ruck.”
“Or a scrum,” Lucy squealed.
“You’re hilarious, Lucy. But you’re not the one being mauled by a giant Newfoundland.”
“Ha! Mauled.” She pointed at me acknowledging my inadvertent rugby pun. “Come now, Sean. He just needs some lo— Oh my God!” Lucy yelled and fell back on her bottom as Hampton tried to mount me once again, this time jumping higher and licking my face.
“Now you’re trying foreplay?” I asked dryly, though I was laughing as well. “Too late, Hampton. Maybe if you’d bought me a drink first.”
Jumping to the side to avoid his maneuvers, I finally managed to open the gate. I quickly stepped through, closing the chain-link door before he could follow. He jumped at it, banging the metal, then bounced away, pacing the length of the pen.
I glanced at Lucy, saw she hadn’t recovered. Her shoulders shook and she looked as though she couldn’t catch her breath. Her head was thrown back and tears of hilarity were leaking from her eyes.
Christ, she was beautiful.
Meanwhile, Hampton barked at me. He sounded frustrated. Let down. Put out. I almost felt sorry for him . . . but not really.
No one likes being the leg that’s humped. No one.
Chapter Twelve
@LucyFitz Topic of the day: Celebs who look like other celebs.
@BroderickAdams to @LucyFitz Julia Roberts = Steven Tyler.
@LucyFitz to @BroderickAdams #mindblown
*Lucy*
Sean had been an excellent helper.
Despite Hampton’s attempts at seduction, Sean’s mood had been cheerful and obliging. I’d never seen him so relaxed. And when it was time for me to go, he’d stayed behind and helped the second shift groom the rest of the dogs.
Whereas I jumped in a taxi and sped home, making it back just before Annie walked in the door. We immediately set to work, though I was having some trouble concentrating. If I wasn’t thinking about Sean’s terrible childhood and growing angry on his behalf, I was distracted by how gentle he’d been with the dogs at the shelter.
What was it about men who were animal lovers? He’d been such a good sport about everything, working hard, wanting to help. It made my heart go pitter-pat.
The next morning, after sleeping fitfully because my dreams were plagued with ridiculous images of Sean, me, and our future pet—a lovely chocolate Labrador mix with big brown eyes—Annie was up before me. Not surprising given she was on Dublin time, which was five hours ahead.
When I moseyed out to the kitchen I saw she’d laid out a delectable assortment of pastries. This was one of the things I loved most about Annie; the woman had a robust appreciation for pastries.
“Grab an eclair and some coffee,” she called from the living room. “Then we’ll get back to work on your new online persona.”
“Sounds fun.” I grabbed the eclair as instructed. Who was I to argue with chocolate ganache at 8:30 a.m.?
Just as I took my first bite, I heard my phone chime from my room, alerting me to a new text message.
“Be right back.” I spoke around the eclair I was chewing and shuffled back to my room, eyeing the carafe of coffee longingly as I went.
Pulling the cell from my bag, my heart skipped as I read the new message.
Sean: What time are you coming over?
For some unknown reason, I shut my door before I responded.
Lucy: Sorry. I meant to tell you yesterday. Teacher needs a day off to catch up on work stuff. How about tomorrow?
Sean: Where are you? Are you at your apartment? Should I bring you sustenance? Street meat perhaps?
Lucy: Don’t bring food. I’m at my apartment working all day with Annie. She gave me a promotion.
Sean: That’s great. Let me take you out tonight to celebrate. I’ll pick you up at 6.
Lucy: Very funny.
Sean: I wasn’t being funny. Let me take you out.
I frowned at Sean’s latest text message.
Lucy: Bad idea.
Sean: Why?
Was he trying to be cute? Or was he just completely obtuse. I responded on a gust of irritation before thinking through my words.
Lucy: Because I’d rather not have my brother know I’m teaching his archnemesis how to give women orgasms.
He didn’t respond for over a minute. Just as I was about to toss it to the bed, the phone vibrated with a new text.
Sean: Technically you’re only teaching me how to give you orgasms. How do I know if this information is generalizable to all women?
Lucy: Trust me, it is.
Sean: If you’re busy today, perhaps I should conduct a test.
I stared at the last six words he’d just typed, my heart beating in my throat, my face flushing with uncomfortable heat, my chest hurting every time I tried to breathe. I didn’t know why I felt so blindsided. Wasn’t that the point of our lessons? I looked into my bedroom mirror, studied my reflection.
“You’re okay with this,” I said to myself, then cleared my voice when I noted the slight tremor in it. “He’s not meant for you. He’s a rugby player. He’s Ronan’s nemesis. And he’s an arsehole, except when he’s helping groom rescued stray dogs. Don’t be so surprised.”
I thought about adding, You’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, other men want to fuck you, but felt like that would be self-affirmation overkill.
I took several deep breaths until my mind calmed and the pain in my chest became a dull ache before responding.
Lucy: Sure! Feel free to try out your new techniques on the women of New York. They can send their notes and gifts of gratitude to my PO box. Have fun!
With that I turned off my phone.
I turned it completely off.
And I buried it under three pairs of jeans in my drawer.
***
We worked all day and into the night, going to bed well after midnight.
I spent the following morning finalizing my new social media accounts and finishing up research for Annie. She and Ronan had already gone to the photo shoot.
I also busied myself trying not to think about what (or who) Sean may or may not have done the night before. Not helping matters, I was reminded of him every time I moved my upper body. I was trying not to feel regretful about doing all those clapping pushups with him three days ago. My arms and abs were bloody killing me.
When lunchtime rolled around I was still in my pajamas. Such was life when you worked from home, and were in denial about being depressed because the guy you’re crushing on was out giving other women orgasms.
I was in desperate need of a shower, so I ventured into the bathroom.
Once out, I blow-dried my hair and put on some tight pale jeans and a floaty tie-dye top. For makeup, I gave myself kitten flicks and painted on some clear lip gloss. I wasn’t going to allow myself to moon over Sean Cassidy.
When I’d finally finished beautifying myself, it was almost time to go meet Annie and Ronan for dinner. They’d
left me the address of the studio, telling me to go there and then we’d all catch a cab to the restaurant. I was both excited about and terrified of seeing Sean.
Partially because Ronan would be there with his eagle, cranky brother eyes. And partially because I dreaded learning that Sean had taken his new skills for a test drive last night. But I reasoned it would be just as well. No need to prolong this arrangement, especially since I seemed to be the only one feeling more than I should.
When I arrived, a personal assistant checked to make sure my name was on the approved list and then I was ushered through. There was music on when I stepped inside the spacious, airy studio, busy-looking people milling all about. I caught sight of Annie as she sat on a chair by one of the windows sipping on peppermint tea.
“Hey,” she greeted me. “Did you find the place okay?”
“Yep. How’s the shoot going?”
She grimaced. “Your brother and Sean Cassidy have been fighting like cats and dogs all morning. Sean is being extra douchey, acting like he’s got one over on Ronan. I told him it was all an act but you know your brother, he just can’t let things go.”
My stomach tightened at her words, because technically Sean did have something over on Ronan. Me. God, I was going to have serious words with that man the next time I got him alone.
The click of a camera caught my attention and I turned to see Ronan, Sean, and their other teammate, Bryan Leech, standing in front of a white background. All of them were wearing athletic pants but no tops. Sean captured my gaze and it was hard to do anything but stare at him.
His body was almost too perfect to be real: toned abs, defined obliques, totally lickable pecs.
His smile was a slow curve, his eyes heating as they traced my form. Suddenly, my skinny jeans felt way too tight and it was difficult to swallow. Perhaps it had been a bad idea coming here.
“Did you get some rest last night?” Annie enquired.
I tore my eyes from Sean and gathered a bracing inhale before answering my brother’s fiancée. “I did. I feel much better.”
“Well, you look much more refreshed.” She gave me a warm smile. “I wish we lived closer, and not just because I love hanging out with someone who enjoys drinking tea and eating pastries.”
“Me too.” I returned her smile, my heart swelling a bit with how happy I felt to have Annie in my life. She was perfect for Ronan, but she was also starting to feel like a true sister to me. “I wish I could help you more with the wedding.”
Annie’s grin widened and she glanced at the ceiling. “I think we both know it’s best just to let your mother have charge of it.”
“I hope she’s not driving you too crazy.”
Annie had been an absolute saint with my mother. They’d had a rocky start, but my mam had quickly changed her tune when it became widely known that Annie was a super-famous and universally adored celebrity blogger.
“No. She’s fine. We’ve been getting on pretty well, especially since I make sure Ronan calls her and takes her out for lunch once a week.”
I snorted. “She stopped making me go out to lunch with her when I started dying my hair.”
“I love your hair. And it’s so pretty down like that.” She ran her fingers through the ends in admiration and I shifted in my seat, feeling uncomfortable by Annie’s praise.
I decided to change the subject. “Did you get a chance to finish that article to go with the Carl-D pictures?”
“Carl-D?”
“Carly and Dean. My friend, Mackenzie, made up a nickname for them. You know, like Kimye or Brangelina.”
“Oh right.” She laughed and stroked her chin. “What do you think Ronan’s and my couple nickname would be? Ronnie?”
I chuckled loudly. “As in Corbett? No way. Annan sounds better. It’s sophisticated, like a brand of French perfume.”
She smiled wide. “Annan. I like it.”
“What are you two grinning about?” came Ronan’s voice as he approached. I glanced across the room to find the photographer had called for a break. Sean was standing just a few yards away, sipping an energy drink. I was suddenly reminded of those sexy Diet Coke ads . . .
“Celebrity nicknames,” Annie answered as Ronan bent down to kiss her on the cheek.
“Hey Lucy,” Sean called over, interrupting us. I looked at him again to see his body was twisted so both his head and his arse were facing me. “How does my butt look in these pants?”
I swear, in that moment every ounce of embarrassment I was capable of feeling hit me full force. Still, I managed to muster a snappy comeback. “A bit flat, actually.” It wasn’t flat. It was round and muscular and completely bite-worthy.
His eyes flared in challenge as he cocked his head to the side. “You think so? Why don’t you come over here and give it a squeeze? Maybe you’ll reconsider.”
Oh, he was going to die when I got my hands on him. He was seriously going to die.
I was lost for words when Ronan butted in. “Don’t talk to my sister, Cassidy. She’s far too intelligent to fall for your bullshit charm.”
Oh, Ronan, you have no idea.
Sean smiled with teeth, his eyes falling on me, then returning to Ronan. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you?”
Ronan stepped toward him. “Excuse me?”
I jumped up from my seat, grabbing Ronan’s arm and pulling him back. “When do you think the shoot will wrap up? I’m starving.”
My brother frowned down at me, not speaking for a moment.
“Oh God, me too,” Annie added. “I need a mountain of creamy mashed potatoes and gravy, stat.” She paused and then glanced between Ronan and Sean, an idea sparking behind her eyes. “Why don’t you join us, Sean?”
Ronan cast his fiancée a look of disbelief and both men spoke at the same time.
“He’s not joining us.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
“Good, it’s settled then,” said Annie, walking to Ronan and pulling him into a hug. He was tense, his posture strained, but then she began whispering something in his ear and the tension fell away.
Huh.
I glanced at Sean, who was wearing a giant shit-eating grin. Flaring my eyes meaningfully, I tried to communicate the order, make up an excuse not to come. Unfortunately, his returning expression said, Oh, I’m coming.
When Annie finally let go of Ronan. he turned to address Sean one last time. “You can come to dinner, but if I get even a hint of your usual bullshit I’ll kick you out of the restaurant so fast your head will spin.”
Sean only smiled. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Why didn’t I believe that?
Ronan frowned at him as though trying to figure out his game. In the end he let out a low, irritable grunt and stalked off to use the bathroom.
An hour later, I sat in the back of a taxi with Ronan and Annie while Sean and Bryan shared one that followed behind us. I really wished I’d gotten the chance to pull Sean aside and warn him of all the things he wasn’t to do at dinner, but the shoot had been a crazy rush and there had been no way of cornering him. As well, I didn’t want to listen to him detail his exploits from the previous night.
Irrationally, I felt like any orgasms he’d dished out belonged to me. He was giving away my orgasms. Some strange, possessive part of me felt ownership of him and his new abilities.
In other words, I was completely loony.
When we arrived at Tom’s, I saw him emerging from his cab with Bryan just a little distance away. He caught me staring and his expression turned intense. I closed my eyes, remembering his mouth on me, how good it felt when we touched, and a shiver of longing pulsed through me.
I wanted him again.
The realization had my skin prickling and my belly coiling tight with need.
But how stupid was I? He’d likely spent last night testing out his skills on someone else. Perhaps even several . . .
Opening my eyes, I steeled my reserve and determined to get through dinner without an
y mortifying revelations coming to light. Then I’d say goodbye and never have to speak to him again.
Good plan.
The second we stepped through the door, Tom was there to greet us. He was tall, auburn-haired, and stocky in a way that said he worked out but still ate his fill. Basically, he looked a bit like Josh Homme. He was also my brother’s best friend from school, who had since become one of New York’s most successful head chefs. He pulled Ronan into a man hug, then turned to embrace Annie, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Smiling wide when he saw me, he stepped forward and hugged me, too.
“Little Lucy Fitzpatrick. Look how big you’ve gotten,” he exclaimed. “I hear you’ve been living in New York for six months and have never taken the time to grace my doors.” Tut-tutting.
I laughed. “Hey, I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Yes, and I insist you come again soon. Take advantage of my kindness,” he said, kissing me on the cheek the same as he’d done to Annie.
Suddenly, I felt a cool gust of air sweep in as the door opened behind me, and I knew it was Sean and Bryan without even having to look. Chancing a quick glance over my shoulder, I found Sean glaring daggers at Tom while Bryan stood beside him, smiling obliviously.
“Bryan,” said Tom. “Long time no see, mate.”
The men exchanged pleasantries while Sean came to stand by me, his silence disconcerting.
“And you must be Mr. Cassidy,” Tom went on somewhat dubiously.
“It’s a pleasure,” said Sean in his usual refined manner. They briefly shook hands, but needless to say, Tom knew exactly who Sean was and there was certainly no love lost between them.
A few minutes later, all six of us were seated at a table. Ronan, Annie and Bryan sat on one side, while I was sandwiched between Tom and Sean on the other. I also didn’t fail to notice how Sean quickly took the seat on the other side of me when he saw Tom politely pulling out my chair. I cast him a searching look, trying to ask what he was up to, but he only stared back with no answers. Maybe he didn’t even know himself.