Easy Virtue (11 page)

Not a minute goes by before Elly texts back.

E: China?

B: Ha! Feels like it. I’m going to Brooklyn … to a * kids * birthday party.

E: ?

B: Long story short. Met a cute kid at the park. We shared a pretzel. Met his cuter uncle, who I kind of know already. Got invited. Couldn’t say no.

E: Aww. Blaire does have a heart. <3 How cute are we talking about here? PS I can’t believe you ate a pretzel. The guy must be really cute.

I smile.

B: The boy was very cute. But the uncle is delicious. So much so that even my vagina wanted to sigh. Imagine a Gap model with a dash of rock star.

E: Shit. Not fair. Music is my higher power, not yours.

B: Music makes your clothes fall off.

E: True story. Are you sure the uncle isn’t the real reason why you’re stepping out of your comfort zone and going to this *party*?

B: I can’t deny that he’s a bonus, sexy scruff and all.

E: Ha. I knew it. You okay?

B: Not really. I’m freaking out. I changed my outfit like ten times and ended up choosing the safest and lamest summer dress I own. Do you remember the white eyelet dress with the empire waist? Yeah. That one. Gag.

E: I love that dress! You look super cute in it. And you’ll be okay, Blaire, just be yourself.

B: A self-serving bitch?

E: Nah. The self-serving bitch wouldn’t be on her way to Brooklyn to a kid’s party. Just be Blaire, the one you try so hard to hide.

B: To be continued … LOL.

E: You’ll be fine! Okay, I gotta go. I’m having lunch with this very cute guitar player I met last night and I’m ignoring him for you. Love ya.

B: Lunch? Yeah right. Don’t choke ;)

E: Pssh. Never. I swallow.

After I put my cell away in my brown leather satchel, I cross my legs as my bare skin glides over the plastic seat. Then I wrap myself in the protective cocoon of my arms, recline my head on the cool window glass, and stare ahead of me as we leave the city behind and head to Brooklyn. I watch as the view changes from subterranean blackness to a clear morning sky, buildings and cottony clouds replacing subway tiles and worn out posters. I tell myself to stop overanalyzing everything and just enjoy the day.

I’m standing outside a small house with a brick front and eggshell-colored shingles adorning the roof as I watch the gypsy cab that I’m pretty sure just ripped me off drive away. I shrug and turn to face the white wooden door as my eyes land on the gilded number four located under the peephole. I’m about to knock on the door when someone opens it. With my hand still hanging in mid-air, I watch as an older woman, maybe in her late sixties, smiles kindly at me.

“You must be Blaire. Ronan wasn’t exaggerating when he described you to us. You’re beautiful. I’m Allison, Ronan’s grandmother and Ollie’s great grandma. Anyway, come on in. The boys have been waiting for you.”

“The boys?”

She glances back and smirks impishly, reminding me of Ronan. “Yes,
boys
. One more so than the other, though.”

I blush, surmising the identity of both
boys
. “I’m so sorry for being this late. I got on the wrong train, only realizing it after it was moving and had to go back and change trains.” I pause to take a calming breath. “I’m never this distracted. I—”

“Oh, dear, don’t apologize. You know what they say … better late than never, right? Anyway, follow me. The party is in the backyard.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly, liking the silver-haired woman already, but even her kind eyes don’t soothe my nerves. I feel like I’m going to be sick with every step I take that brings me closer to all the boisterous sounds and laughter—and to him.

We walk past a faded but comfortable looking green couch and love seat, a worn out dining room table with a centerpiece made out of fake looking wild flowers, and an even smaller kitchen with an outdated stove and fridge. As I take in my surroundings, I notice how different our lifestyles are. Not that there’s anything wrong with what I see, but it isn’t what I’m used to.

As soon as she opens the backdoor, the hot summer air blasts us in the face and everyone turns to look at us, growing silent.

With sweaty palms and a dry mouth, I raise my chin pretending that all the stares and silence don’t bother me one bit, yet the pounding in my chest won’t let me fool myself. I’m uncomfortable and nervous underneath my expensive armor. No Gucci heel has been known to slay a dragon, after all.

I’m about to ask Allison for Ollie’s whereabouts, when I
feel
Ronan stand next to me before I see
him. Without asking for my permission, he takes my hand possessively in his, like he owns it, and squeezes it once. He doesn’t say a word, and I don’t think it’s necessary. His warm touch is all the support I need. I lift my eyes to meet his and watch him smile reassuringly. It’s a sweet smile that softens his face, making him appear more beautiful than I remembered. A smile that makes me want to soar in the sky because no man has ever smiled at me like that.

“You came.”

Dispassionately, I notice that my hands are trembling a little. It could be due to nerves, or maybe it’s because Ronan’s gaze licks every inch of me as it travels down my body—checking me out unabashedly. It doesn’t matter. Whatever the reason is, it doesn’t change the fact that Ronan has a way of crumbling my composure.

“Of course I did. I said I would, didn’t I?”

Allison coughs, reminding us that we’re not alone. “Ronan, show Blaire around and introduce her to the family. I’m going to go look for your sister and let Ollie know that she’s arrived. Here, let me take that for you,” she says, pointing at the plastic bag in my hand that holds Ollie’s gift.

“I didn’t know what to get him … there were so many toys and different collections, so I got him the entire set of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. I remember watching that show as a kid and enjoying it, so I thought that he might too. Anyway, the gift receipt is there in case he wants to exchange it.”

She pats my shoulder softly. “Don’t worry, sweetie. He’ll love it,” she says to me before turning to look at Ronan and addressing him. “And you behave yourself, Ronan.”

We watch as she makes her way down the wooden stairs of the porch toward a green plastic patio table filled with presents. The table next to it is covered in all sorts of food including macaroni salad, coleslaw, and potato salad. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that people have resumed their conversations and aren’t looking our way anymore. As relief courses down my body, I turn to look at Ronan, and his eyes are already on me, watching me closely.

“You babble when you’re nervous, don’t you?”

I groan and close my eyes in frustration. “Yeah, and I hate it.”

“No, don’t … it’s cute. Endearing, actually.”

“You say that now. I’ll ask you again at the end of the party.”

Silence fills the space around us as we stare at each other, our smiles slowly fading.

“You look beautiful today,” he says hoarsely.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He lifts a hand and touches the hot crest of my cheek, the contact electrifying. “Why are you blushing?” I laugh. Does he really need to ask? “Don't tell me you're not used to compliments because I won’t believe it.”

I lift a hand and cover his with mine but don’t remove it. I’m not ready to lose the warmth of his touch. “No, it's not that. It's just the way you're staring at me. I can’t explain it without sounding weird.”

“Maybe I can explain it for you …” The space between us becomes a magnetic field where the vivid intensity of his gaze draws me in, incapacitating me from all coherent thought and movement. “When I look at you, I see something I really want. Something I need.”

All I can do is nod, releasing the breath that I didn’t know I was holding up until now. Ronan’s eyes crinkle at the corners, amusement making them sparkle. He totally knows he’s gotten to me. “How’s that for an explanation?”

“Good.” I swallow hard, my heart beating faster. “
Very
good.”

He grins cockily. “I'm glad you came, Blaire.”

“Me too.”

“Hey, Ronan! Stop drooling over the poor girl and help me get the grill going!” a man shouts.

Everyone laughs around us, which makes me blush even more. He winks at me before letting go of my hand. “All right, all right. Don’t get your panties in a bunch! I'm coming. Everyone, meet Blaire, my future wife.”

I’m smiling at everyone but as my mind registers his last words, I start coughing incessantly. What the hell? Patting me on the shoulder, I hear Ronan ask close to my ear, “Too soon?”

“Um, yeah? We haven’t even kissed.”

“Oh, is that an invitation?”

I smack him on the shoulder. “Of course not!”

“But you want me to?”

“No! I mean, yes. Grr … I don’t know.” I squeeze my eyes shut because I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore.

He places a hand on the curve of my hip. His touch is tender yet possessive. “That’s good enough for now. And just so you know, I’m not letting you walk away from me this time. No dogs, no assholes, no appointments. Today you’re mine.”

I don’t want to smile because if I do I’ll have to acknowledge how much I like the sound of that, but I end up doing it anyway. My body seems to be at odds with my brain—the slut. “Oh, really?”

“Ronan! We’re starving here!” someone else shouts before he gets a chance to answer.

He leans down, gripping my hip softly, and whispers in my ear, “Nothing like being cockblocked by your own family, eh?”

As I watch him run down the same wooden stairs to finally join his family, I lift a hand to trace my lips and realize that I’m smiling. And this is when the butterflies kick in. Fuck.

I’m screwed.

“HERE, USE THIS,” RONAN HANDS ME
some paper towels to dry my skin. We were just about done with lunch when the skies opened, and it started to pour out of nowhere. Between all of us, we barely had time to bring the rest of the food inside before it got ruined with the rain.

“Thank you.” I begin patting myself dry, conscious of the way Ronan is staring at me. It’s been like this all day. Furtive glances here and there, smiles that seem to be for each other alone, innocent touches that burn brighter than the best of foreplays. The tension keeps rising, and the undeniable attraction grows sweeter with each second that passes by. Really, it’s hard to concentrate when I look at him, imagining what his stubble would feel like in between my thighs … those full lips … how soft they seem …

God, this man is making me horny.

I shake my head and dismiss those irrelevant thoughts because they won’t happen—I won’t allow it.

I’m working on my neck, tilting it slightly to get under my chin, when Brian, Ronan’s cousin and a charming flirt, comes up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

“So, Blaire, how about you dump Ronan’s sorry ass and let me show you what a good time is?”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask teasingly. The cute kid, who probably isn’t older than eighteen, has been joking with me all day, making me laugh every time. Sadly, I don’t think Ronan has found it as funny as I have.

“Yes, ma’am. The best kind.”

“Brian, back off,” Ronan retorts with a dangerous lilt in his voice.

“Oh, stop it you two,” Jackie, Ronan’s sister and Ollie’s mom, says as she walks past them, smacking both on the back of their heads. Laughing, I watch the young woman with the exact same coloring as Ronan and her son turn in my direction and roll her eyes as she mutters, “Boys. Blaire, if you’re over the
raging
testosterone in the room, you’re more than welcome to come to the kitchen with me and hang out in there until it’s time to bring the cake out.”