Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(24)

He signals to the barman. “Can you drink now?”

“You bet your fucking arse I can. I’ve locked them in a room. The rest is up to god and their own consciences.”

He laughs. “Two Old Fashioneds,” he instructs the barman who’s dressed like he’s just about to open a speakeasy. We’re staying in a hotel whose selling point is a recreation of the 1920s. They advertise old school service mixed with every modern convenience, and the last time I saw so many braces it was in a school production of Bugsy Malone.

I whistle. “You’re on a mission with cocktails. You know what I’m like on those. That means Drunk Joe will make an appearance.”

He leans closer. “Drunk Joe is fun. He has a very interesting sexual way about him.”

I laugh and take the drink with a smile, clinking my glass against his. “You’re right about that. Drunk Joe is a bit of a ho. Cin cin, boo,” I say.

He nods, his eyes full of warm laughter.

Shit. I’m in such trouble over him.





A few hours later we reel into the lift.

“Home, James,” I instruct the attendant as Lachlan shows him his hotel pass.

He smiles. “Floor, sir?”

I stare at him, puzzled. “Pardon?”

“What floor are you staying on?”

“Oh sorry. We need floor ten. I thought you were calculating my odds of being shoved out of bed and having to sleep on the carpet.” I wink. “They’re minimal. Drunk Joe is very talented.”

He looks like he’s fighting a smile.

My companion snorts. “You speak the truth,” he slurs. “I would never throw you out of bed.”

I nod and nod some more, as my head seems to want to make that gesture. “Thank you, Lachlan. How romantic and how entirely not you.”

Lachlan spreads his hand over his chest. “I’m very romantic, I’ll have you know.”

“True. You did offer me a towel after sex, and it was clean.” The attendant makes a choked sound, and I smile at Lachlan, but I’m fairly sure it’s more of a leer. “You’re very pretty,” I say dreamily. It’s the truth. He’s rumpled, with a flush of colour on his broad cheekbones, and his eyes are bleary. The disobeying lock of hair has staged another rebellion and now flops endearingly over his forehead. He looks rather mischievous.

“I’m not the pretty one.” He fumbles in his pocket as the lift comes to a stop. “Here,” he says to the attendant. “I think you really deserve it after listening to us speak such a load of crap.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” the attendant says, surprise in his voice. Obviously it was a big tip.

“Ta ta, James,” I say. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” I instruct him as I turn to leave the lift. “I have to warn you, though, that it isn’t much. Shit, where’s the door?”

“Behind you, sir. You’re looking at the back of the elevator.”

Laughing, Lachlan fumbles for my hand and drags me into the corridor.

Once the lift’s doors close, he pins me to the nearby wall and kisses me hard. By the time he pulls away, my brain has turned to mush, and my dick is hard as a steel pole.

We stare at each other, and I search for my flippant mode and activate it. “I’m drunk and turned on. It’s an explosive combination, Lachlan. Take me to bed or lose me forever.”

Instead of kissing me again, he stares at me. His face is intent, his eyes intense.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Why have you got so distant with me?” he demands.

“What?”

“Don’t even try to think of an excuse. Tell me the truth. I like that about you, Joe. You’re different.”

I blink blearily. “I’m ten a penny.”

“No, you’re like no one I’ve ever known. The rarest thing. An… an honest man,” he slurs.

“I lie to brides all the time, although I’m sure that’s okay if it’s to make them happy. Last week I told my bride that her dress was beautiful, and it really wasn’t,” I whisper.

He snorts. “That’s fine.”

“I’ll have to ask Father Michaels. He does like our discussions.”

“Does he? Wait. You’re Catholic?”

“I’m sure he likes to discuss things. He always sighs a lot. With happiness,” I insist. “And I’m lapsed. Much to my mum’s disgust.”

“How do I not know this?”

“I can’t imagine. You know so much about me,” I say resentfully. “Unlike you, Stranger McStrangerson.”

“What?”

“I’d like to shut up now,” I say conversationally.

He laughs, which sets off his balance. When he sways, I pull him close.

“I don’t want you to be quiet. This is all very interesting, Joe.”

“Well, it’s just one more thing I tell you while you stay silent.”

He stares at me. “What do you mean?”

“You tell me nothing about yourself.”

“I told you about my relationship with my parents.”

“Only because I thought you were ordering food and I wanted a chicken biryani.”