Getting Real - By Ainslie Paton Page 0,61

and brought it towards his mouth. He licked a little river of peppermint as it slid down the cone, starting from the bottom and moving up to where her fingers were wrapped around it, and on towards the scoop at the top. When his tongue flicked across her fingers she sucked in her breath. She would’ve jerked her hand away had he not been holding it.

“Get your own.” She wrenched the cone away and he laughed to see her flush under her hat.

Harry thought the coming sunset was sad. It was pink and orange and framed the city in a misty firelight, but it meant the day was coming to an end, and she didn’t want it to. They’d played tourists in the city, and had a wonderful day just being together. Rand got recognised a couple of times, but the fans were cool and once they’d had their moment with him, were happy to move on. It was a very Brisbane thing, laid back and no worries.

She wanted more days like this with him, just to get to know him properly beyond her school girl memory. But it was all getting very serious, moving too fast, and if she didn’t want Rand in her bed and all over her life, very soon—even tonight—she had to do something to slow things down.

As if to remind her how hot things had become, Rand sat forward again and kissed the back of her neck, his tongue making little circles, causing shivers to cascade down her spine.

“You might want to cool your jets,” she said, moving out of his reach.

“Is that an instruction?”

Was it? Gosh no, she didn’t want anything they were doing to stop, but it was too fast for comfort. “No, it’s just a suggestion.” She paused to see how he’d react and when he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Would you take an instruction from me anyway?”

She heard him snort. “I’d take anything from you.”

She sat forward. “That’s what I mean.”

“Ah,” he said, and she could tell by the tone of his voice he was digesting that.

A red and yellow arrow-shaped racing kite was dipping and weaving in front of them, making a buzzing sound as it carved through the air. It turned against the wind and suddenly lost power and direction. It started drifting, floating, slack-stringed, like a falling autumn leaf. Its owner pulled hard on the strings and raced about on the shoreline trying to catch the current and keep it afloat, but it tipped nose-first, picked up speed, and crashed into the sand.

Were they like that kite, Harry wondered. Buzzing around one minute but destined to lose momentum and hit the deck hard? That’s not what she wanted. Rand had gone quiet and she couldn’t stand not knowing what he was thinking. She dared not ask him in case he was reconsidering things, so she filled the silence by saying, “It’s a beautiful day.”

He was statue still beside her. Maybe now he saw a good reason to slow things down? Then he ran his hand slowly down her back from the bare skin at her neck to her waist. “It’s not the only thing that’s beautiful.”

She shifted on the bench seat and turned back to him. “I’m flattered, but you know the beauty thing is very superficial.”

He ducked down to see under the brim of her hat. “I was gone on you when you were a skinny, awkward ugly duckling with train tracks on your teeth.”

She gasped and dropped her head lower. “Ah.”

“Yeah. So be nice, ‘cause now that you’re a friggin’ swan, what do you think it’s doing to me?”

She said, “Ah,” again, and curled her toes, trying to hold on to the sound of his voice, a low growl, best savoured cuddled close in the dark—not here in a public place with joggers, cyclists, kids on skateboards and people walking dogs all around them.

“Given the swan thing, I was thinking I’d like to renegotiate on the bases,” he said.

“Really”

“Yeah. Since things went so well with the combo first and second base, I was wondering how you’d feel about combining third and fourth base.”

Harry exhaled.

Rand said, “I was thinking it would be an inconvenience to get you all naked and then have to stop. I mean, it would be downright rude. It makes sense to keep going, don’t you think?”

She knew there was probably a smartarse line she could deliver, to keep things light, drag the temperature back down. Bantering with him was like another form

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