For Christmas, Forever. Кэрол Мортимер
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make you think, doesn’t it?’
Leo, reeling from the various changes in conversation he’d been subjected to for the past few minutes—shoes, pumpkins, napkins, sex, love, embalming, napkins—could only repeat stupidly, ‘Think...?’
‘Well, cremation or burial? It’s something we all need to plan for. If you’re interested—as you should be, if you ride a motorbike—I’m sure Ben would be happy to—’
‘Er, no—that’s fine, thanks.’ Leo got to his feet with alacrity. ‘I’ll send over that drink.’
* * *
Halfway through the night, Leo poked his head out of the kitchen. Ostensibly to gauge how the place was humming along, but really—he was honest enough to admit it—to check out Sunshine’s date.
And Ben the embalmer was handsome enough to give Alexander Skarsgard a run for his money. Like a freaking Viking!
They’d ordered the roast leg of lamb—a sharing dish that came with crispy roast potatoes, crusty bread rolls and assorted side dishes and condiments. Enough food to feed the entire cast of The Hobbit, including the trolls.
Twice more Leo peered out at them. Both times Ben was laughing and Sunshine was about to shove a laden fork in her mouth. Leo was starting to think Sunshine could single-handedly have eating classified as a championship sport.
Since he thought dining with a woman who actually ate would make a nice change, he didn’t know why the sight of Sunshine chomping up a storm with Ben was so annoying.
But it was. Very, very annoying.
Another laugh floated through the restaurant and into his straining ears.
Right! He ripped off his apron. He was going to find out what the hell was so funny.
He washed his hands, changed into a clean chef’s jacket and headed out.
Sunshine looked up, startled. ‘Leo! This is a surprise.’
She quickly performed introductions as one of the waiting staff rushed to find a spare chair for Leo, who was examining the almost demolished lamb leg.
Leo raised his eyebrows. ‘Didn’t like it, huh?’ he said, settling into the quickly produced chair.
Sunshine groaned. ‘Not funny. I’ll have to start dieting tomorrow.’
‘That will be a one-day wonder,’ Ben said, and winked at Sunshine.
Winked! Who the hell winked at people?
Sunshine laughed. ‘Or you could kiss me instead, Ben, because—interestingly—kissing burns six and half calories per minute. As long as it’s passionate.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I guess passion supersizes the metabolic effect.’
Ben, in the process of sipping his wine, choked. ‘Where do you get all these facts?’
‘The internet.’
Ben grinned. ‘Better brush up on your arithmetic, Sunny, because if I kiss you for, say, fifteen minutes—and any longer is just asking for chapped lips—it’s going to net you a hundred calories max. Basically, we’ll burn off two thirds of a bread roll.’
‘Are you talking yourself out of a kiss?’ Sunshine asked.
She was doing the eyelash-bat thing, and Leo decided it made her look like a vacuous twit. He only just stopped himself from telling her so.
Ben smiled at Sunshine. A very intimate smile, by Leo’s reckoning. ‘You know I’m up for it,’ he said. ‘But we’re going to have to make it a marathon and buy a truckload of lip balm if you keep that up.’ He nodded at her fingers, which were hovering over the food.
Sunshine snatched up a small piece of crispy potato and popped it into her mouth. ‘It’s a vegetable,’ she said. ‘Doesn’t count.’
‘Oh, that’s a vegetable!’ Ben laughed. ‘And you’re a nut, Sunshine.’
Sunshine smiled serenely. ‘If that’s the analogy we’re going with, you’re a piece of meat.’
Ben gave her a faux mournful look. ‘Oh, I know I’m just a piece of meat to you. We all are.’
A phone trilled.
‘Mine,’ Ben said, reaching into his shirt pocket. He checked the caller ID. ‘Sorry, I have to take this.’
‘All?’ Leo asked as Ben left the table.
Sunshine laughed. ‘Just a “poor me” thing with my exes. They get a bit club-like.’
‘What? There’s like a legion of them?’
Another laugh. ‘Not quite.’
Leo leant forward, fixed her with a steady gaze. ‘Are you sleeping with both of them? Gary and Ben?’
She stopped laughing. ‘And you’re interested because...?’
‘Just wondering where everyone fits in relation to that guff about sex and love you were spouting earlier and the whole pieces of meat thing.’
‘It’s not guff.’
‘Total guff.’
She considered him for a moment. ‘Well—I’ve never been in love, but I have had sex. And I’ll bet you’ve had enough sex to write Fifty Shades of Leo—but no wife. No steady girlfriend, even, right? No...love...perhaps?’
He felt his jaw clamp. God, he’d love to show her fifty shades of Leo. She wouldn’t be looking at him in that curious bird way at the end. ‘That’s not the point,’ he ground out.
‘That’s exactly the point. What’s wrong, Leo? Not enough room in there?’ She leant over and tapped her fingers on his chest, right over his heart. Into his heart, it felt like. ‘I don’t think you should be lecturing me just because I have sex without love the same as you do.’
‘You’re supposed to want them both.’
She tossed her head. ‘Well, I don’t. I won’t. Ever. And glowering at me isn’t going to change that.’
‘I’m not glowering. I don’t glower.’
‘Oh, you so do. It’s kind of cute.’
‘I’m not cute.’
‘Sure you are—in that I’m-a-typical-male-hypocrite kind of way.’
‘I’m not a hypocrite either.’
‘Go and get yourself nicely monogamised and I’ll believe you.’
‘Monogamised isn’t a real word.’
That twitch at the side of her mouth.
Leo felt his temper surge. ‘And I am monogamous.’
‘Yeah—but one-after-the-other monogamy doesn’t count if there’s a hundred in the pipeline.’
He wanted to haul her out of her chair and... And what?
And nothing, that was what. Nothing.
‘Ben’s coming back so I’ll leave you to it,’ he said. ‘I’ve got some dessert coming out for you.’
She bit her bottom lip. ‘Oh, dear—I really will need to start a diet tomorrow.’
Leo got to his feet. ‘Just get Ben to kiss you twice.’
Sunshine grabbed his hand to keep him where he was.
His fingers curled around hers before he could stop them—and then his fingers stiffened. He pulled his hand free, flexed his fingers.
Sunshine’s eyes flickered from his hand to his face. There was doubt in her eyes. And concern. And a tenderness that enraged him. He didn’t need it. Didn’t need Sunshine-bloody-Smart messing with his head or his goddamned hand.