Flirting with the Frenemy (Bro Code #1)(57)

I tense, and sure enough—

“Ah-choo!”

Her walls clench tight around my fingers again, spasming harder and coating me, and fuck if her coming doesn’t make me about to blow my own load in my pants.

“Fuck,” she mutters, but it comes out on a half-groan while her pussy’s still coming for me.

She sneezes once more, and I pull my fingers out, gently replace her panties, and peek out from under her dress.

“Baaah!’ the baby goat bleats.

Ellie’s wiping her nose with her arm. Her cheeks are rosy, her body slumping on the bench.

“It was messy,” she grumbles, pointing to her nose. “And we’re probably going to get eaten by baby goats in our sleep. But thank you. That was the best orgasm I’ve had in years.”

I frown. “So I have work to do to be the best ever.”

She sniffles. “You really want to do this again?” she asks, gesturing to her snotty face with the healing black eye.

God, she’s gorgeous. And so very Ellie.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Preferably soon. And often.”

The hesitation in her bright blue eyes wavers, and then she’s laughing again, leaning in to kiss me. “You know something worse than goats will happen now, right?”

I grip her chin. “Nothing. Bad. Is. Going. To. Happen.”

One eye wrinkles.

“I like you, Ellie Ryder.” I love you, but I don’t want to scare you.

“I like you too, Wyatt Morgan.”

“Then don’t be afraid.” I lean in to kiss her again when we hear the gate rattle.

She jerks back, and I straighten too when I recognize that voice.

“But I want to show you the fountain!” Tucker says.

“Leg better?” I ask her.

She smiles softly. “Nature’s miracle cure worked.”

“See? That’s not bad.”

“Hmm.”

I can still taste her on my lips, and I’m more than a little sore and eager in other parts of my very unsatisfied anatomy, but I take a seat next to her, cross my ankle over my knee, and fling an arm around her shoulder while the gate creaks open.

She glances at my crotch, then back up to my face. “Not going to complain?”

“About getting to eat you? No. Are you going to complain about it?”

“No,” she replies with a smile.

“Good. But I’m sneaking into your bed tonight after your parents are asleep.”

“Are you?” she murmurs as Tucker races into the garden and spots us.

“Yep. And I can’t wait.”

She lays her head on my shoulder as her parents follow Tucker, who’s talking a mile a minute about the goats and the pirates and the wedding and acting out a sword fight.

“This isn’t fake anymore, is it?” she whispers.

“No, ma’am,” I whisper back into her wig.

And I’m not sure it ever was.





Twenty-Four





Ellie



Monica and Jason’s party at The Grog is more fun than I’ve had in months. Possibly years. There are pirate jokes and impromptu sword fights and a limerick contest with a bunch of implied words to protect the innocent ears in the room. Tucker makes friends with Monica’s cousin’s daughter, who’s a year younger than he is, and the two of them spend the evening playing pirate and talking about Pokémon cards and video games.

Nobody talks about work or where we’ll be next week, except Monica and Jason, who will be on a cruise in the Bahamas.

My parents want to know about when Wyatt and I hooked up though.

“A psychic set us up,” he says, which makes my mom spit her ale.

“I watched him lift a burning car off a baby and decided he was okay,” I say, which is lame after his answer, but Mom stops the third degree, and I find I can breathe again.

I don’t mean to rub my leg, but it’s aching after coming down off my post-orgasm high, and suddenly Monica’s next to us. “If you don’t take her home and get her a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine right now, I’m going to ask the Rocks to blacklist you from Crow’s Nest and Anchovies,” she informs Wyatt.

“It’s your wed—” I start, but she clamps her arm around my head and her hand across my mouth and gives Wyatt the I’m watching you hand gesture, then points to the door.

“We both have cars here,” I say, but it comes out as “ee owe aah rrr rr” with Monica’s hand still over my mouth.

If it weren’t her wedding day, I’d lick her hand, but honestly, I don’t know where it’s been, and I like Jason, but I don’t want to accidentally lick his penis sweat.

“We’ll drive your car back, sweetie,” Mom says.

“It’s like she doesn’t know you at all,” Wyatt whispers. “Sweetie?”

Monica snorts with laughter.

So does my father.

“I’ll go get Tucker,” Wyatt says to Monica.

“Oh, we’ll bring him home,” my mom says quickly. “He’s having so much fun.”

He’s drinking root beer and completely missing all of his dart throws, which is about the cutest thing I’ve seen all day.