All They Need - By Sarah Mayberry Page 0,65
to her. Mel checked the side tie on her dress and tweaked her skirt self-consciously, wishing she had a mirror to check her makeup.
“Don’t worry, your lippy’s on straight,” Justine said quietly. “You look great.”
Mel forced her hands back by her sides. “We’re just friends.”
She wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince.
“And I’m a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Just promise me one thing, okay? Be careful.”
Mel looked into her sister’s eyes, registering the warning she saw there, and the concern. “I will. I am.”
“Good.”
They both pasted on smiles as Flynn slid past the last group blocking his way.
“You poor bastard. I suppose Mom roped you into coming?” Harry said, shaking his head.
“No rope required,” Flynn said, his gaze sliding to Mel. “You look great.”
“Thanks.” She stepped forward, feeling incredibly bold, and put her hand on his shoulder. Then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “It’s good to see you.”
He was watching her very intently as she withdrew and she had a sudden, hot flash of how it had felt when he’d kissed her last weekend. The way he’d held her. The way he’d tasted. She became aware that her sister and brother were watching them with knowing expressions and she gave herself a mental shake.
“Have you got a drink? Let’s get you a drink,” she said, taking Flynn’s elbow and guiding him away from her siblings. “Beer or wine?”
“A beer would be great, thanks.”
They joined the crowd at the impromptu bar and she gave him a small, nervous smile. “Bit busy. Won’t be a tick.”
“There’s no rush. Your mom looks like she’s ready for a big night.”
“Oh, she is. This will be one for the record books if she’s got any say in the matter.”
Someone jostled her from behind and she was forced to step closer to him.
“How are your parents?” she asked.
“They’re good, thanks. It’s been a good week.”
She could smell his aftershave and she fought the need to lean closer and inhale a big, greedy lungful of the stuff.
“It’s good to see you,” she said before she could stop herself.
His eyes were warm as they looked into hers. “It’s good to see you, too, Mel.”
Her aunt and uncle approached before she could say more and she found herself introducing them to Flynn. Then one of her father’s work colleagues came over to ask if Flynn was the owner of the vintage Aston Martin her father had worked on, and the next thing she knew two hours had slipped by effortlessly as she watched Flynn win over her extended family.
He gave everyone he was introduced to his sincere and undivided attention, asking questions and making jokes and generally being too damned charming. He talked politics with her very left-wing cousin, Jack, for nearly half an hour and managed to leave him laughing despite the fact that they hadn’t agreed on a single issue. He discussed home preserves with her elderly aunt, herb gardens with her mother’s next-door neighbor and the property market with Jacob and Justine. When they ran out of seating at dinnertime, he perched on the rim of one of the built-in brick planters along the edge of the patio alongside her and Harry and made appreciative noises about the tenderness of the meat. He went back to the dessert table twice, insisting that Mel at least try the chocolate-mint mousse that had him so enthralled.
After dinner, Mel excused herself to go to the bathroom and fix her lipstick. When she exited the house to rejoin the party, she saw that Flynn had moved from their perch on the planter boxes. She scanned the crowd and finally found him talking with Eddy and Rex, hunkered down so that he was on the same level with them. His head was cocked, his expression open and engaged as Rex relayed a story that, based on his hand gestures, seemed to involve lots of big explosions.
Watching Flynn give his all to her nephews, something sharp and painful tightened in her chest.
He was such a good man. Hardworking, genuine, kind, funny. What he was doing for his parents was plain old-fashioned noble, although she knew he would reject the label vehemently if she shared it with him because he was also modest and unassuming. By some miracle he managed to combine all of the above with a quiet confidence that drew people to him as naturally as the moon drew the tide.
In short, he was a special man.
And he wanted her. Not just for sex, either. He liked her.