Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 612(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 408(@300wpm)
“A little.” Ryan nods. “Just keeping my hand in.”
“As the vicar said to the actress.”
“Oh, my God!” Evie exclaims. “My husband made a funny!”
“Maybe we should ask Abena to design the nursery,” I murmur low in Ryan’s ear. Although where that will be is anyone’s idea. Upstairs? Downstairs? I’m not even sure what we need. I know Letty and Ryan went shopping, but my sister said they bought very little. She said Ryan seemed overwhelmed, but that there’s still plenty of time. But is there really? Aren’t pregnant women supposed to nest at some point? Not like pigeons or anything. “What do you think?” I ask when she doesn’t answer.
“Maybe,” she hedges, her gaze slipping away.
My expression flickers, ice dropping into my evening warmth. We are turning a corner, aren’t we? Don’t expect too much too fast, I remind myself as I slide my hand to the small of her back, finding the muscles tense there.
“I’ll send her a message if you like?” Mila offers.
Ryan adjusts her position in her seat. “That’s okay. I have her number.”
“You okay?” I whisper as the conversation moves on.
She gives a quick nod and an even quicker smile.
“Thanks for coming tonight,” I say. “It means a lot to me.”
“Of course.” Her next smile is genuine, and it holds. Even in the low light I see the color in her cheeks.
“Have I told you I love how you blush?”
“I don’t blush.”
“Course not,” I murmur, biting back a grin. And pressing the meat of my palm to her lower back. “Nice?”
Ryan bites her lip, her expression part pleasured, part pained. But then she slides me a look that seems to say, I know your game.
“I think it’s nice.”
“Stop with the tone,” she half whispers, half warns.
“And stop this?” I ask, pressing harder now.
She bites back a groan, and my grin breaks free.
“Don’t be too pleased with yourself,” she protests. “It’s a symptom of this pregnancy. Pink cheeks too.”
“Nothing to do with my magic hands?”
“It’s hormonal fluctuations and increased blood flow.”
I make a low noise. Part inquiry, part tell me more.
“Stop that!” Her blush deepens as her eyes dart away. Though her smile is so wide it’s as if I just reached out and tickled her.
“Maybe I should be the one blushing, because you say the sexiest things.”
“Hogwash!”
“Stop,” I purr. “You’re giving me increased blood flow myself!”
“Ohmygod.” She slides a lock of hair behind her ear, her words running together as she ducks her head. “You are the worst.”
She might be right.
The worst kind of fool for her.
The food is grand and the whiskey even better. I order a steak, and Ryan has pasta, though we end up sharing our plates. The evening passes in a blur of friendship and laughter. Which, of course, includes embarrassing stories.
“No, no, no,” Mila says, waving her hand as she laughs. “It isn’t Stockholm syndrome. Is it?” Glancing her husband’s way, she takes his face in her hand.
Fin bends to meet her lips with his. “I mean, we were both stuck on an island.”
“And high on shrooms,” Evie puts in. “Maybe what should be worrying you is how he practically stalked you when you got back to London.”
“No,” Fin says, all seriousness. “I didn’t stalk her. It was more like a little friendly . . . blackmail. Technically, if you want to blame anyone, blame him,” Fin says, throwing the accusation my way.
“Thank me, more like.”
“What did you do?” Ryan asks, glancing up at me.
“He told me to read Bridgerton,” Fin answers for me.
“Bollocks!” I scoff. “Get back to the topic of blackmail.”
“No,” Fin retorts. “Love deserves a sacrifice—that’s what I learned from romance books. That or a diabolical plan.”
“Diabolical?” Evie sends a sly glance Oliver’s way. His answer is to take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it.
“Come on, Evie.” Mila giggles. “Don’t be mad. The man did buy you a menagerie.”
“That’s true.” Evie gives a considering nod. “And bitches do love a menagerie,” she says, glancing Ryan’s way. “And lions and tigers and labradoodles.”
“Those guys are too cute.” This from Mila as she rests in the crook of Fin’s arm. “Do you know what you’re having yet?” Her eyes dip with warmth to a bump called Flip.
“According to Clo, a guinea pig,” I say, reaching for my glass.
“Clodagh is such a hoot,” Mila says. “Matt’s family’s great, aren’t they?”
“Ah, yeah,” Ryan begins hesitantly. “They’ve been really welcoming.”
I stroke my thumb across her back. No need to feel awkward, teacup.
“Then, of course, Matt is pretty great too.” Ryan tilts her head my way, and her smile just gets me. Like an arrow to the heart.
Chapter 36
Ryan
The house is warm and welcoming, the lamps lit and the hallway smelling of beeswax polish, and of the gardenias. Mary picked them in the garden yesterday while collecting herbs, then popped the pretty display in the silver urn.