Page 31 of Broken Butterfly
“Will you tell me someday, about your childhood. About your scars?”
“Someday,” he replies. “If there was anyone I would trust enough to tell, it would be you.”
“Fallon, did you just say something sweet to me?”
“I take it back.”
“Oh, no. No takebacks. I heard it and you can’t make me unhear it. See, Nutter Butter, you are a big softy.”
We walk down a long hall. “Jesus, not that shit again. Don’t you dare tell my sister that stupid-ass nickname. I won’t hear the end of it.”
“What do I get in return for keeping my mouth shut?”
I release a gasp when he shoves me against a wall and spreads his hands flat on either side of me. “What do you want, kitten?”
I’ve ventured into dangerous territory. I lick my suddenly dry lips and his aquamarine eyes zero in on them. “Right this moment, I want to see where I’ll be sleeping.”
“Liar,” he retorts, but backs away, allowing me to release the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I spend the next hour in my rose-pink room, unpacking and thinking about the choices I have made and the choices that are yet to come. What do I want? At this very minute, I think my answer would shock the hell out of Fallon.
Tatiána has her culinary staff prepare us a lovely meal for dinner. Earlier, she gave me the grand tour of her palatial home while Fallon disappeared to who knows where. I quickly learn that I will have to make sure to eat something mid-day as dinner is regularly served late at night. Dinner consists of small plates of various local foods and dishes that my unrefined Southern self would call sampler platters back home. I am introduced to another Spanish favorite, the after-dinner drink carajillo, which is a hot coffee with a shot of liquor; in this case, anisette. Honestly, I don’t care for it, but I enjoy the experience of trying something new. As the night is still mild for the time of year, we eat dinner outside in the central courtyard gardens.
“I fucking knew that getting you two together was a bad idea,” Fallon complains good-humoredly. It’s almost midnight and while we enjoy our carajillos, Tatiána has been telling me stories about her summers with Fallon that have me snorting with laughter.
“I can’t wait to tell Ryder that one,” I hiccup, trying to catch my breath. My stomach is sore from laughing so hard and eating so much.
“Try it and be prepared to suffer the consequences,” Fallon threatens, but he’s not able to hide the partial smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I stick my tongue out at him and he leans over to tickle my sides. I squeal and wiggle off my chair, landing unceremoniously on my ass. Thankfully, I’m wearing jeans and not a dress. Tatiána giggles at my predicament and I glare up at her. “How much alcohol did you put in my coffee?”
“Not enough,” she concludes and pours more anisette into my almost empty cup. I notice she isn’t drinking any coffee and has stuck to water the entire evening.
Fallon comes over to help me up, that smug smirk of his making an appearance. When he offers me his hand, I tug hard and pull him down with me. Instead of landing on his derriere as I had hoped, he lands in a push-up position hovering over me as I fall backward, my hair fanning out all around my head.
“Hi.” I giggle up at him and flick his nose with my finger.
“So goddamn gorgeous,” he says back.
“I’m sitting right here,” Tatiána loudly announces. My eyes widen and I push Fallon off of me. This time he does fall over on his ass with anumph. “Are you sure the two of you are not together? You act like una pareja enamorada.”
I start mentally choking when my brain finally translates what she just said. “No, no, no. Fallon and I are just friends. I’m in love with—” I blurt before I realize my almost word vomit and shut my mouth tight.
“What is the phrase your countrymen use? Friends with benefits? Um, fuck buddies? That’s what I am trying to think of.” Tatiána snaps her fingers when the words come to her.
“Just friends,” I repeat, poking Fallon in the side with my elbow because he’s being quiet on the subject. He pulls me between his legs—much like we were earlier at the piano bench—and wordlessly grins up at his sister with a wink.
“Hmm,” Tatiána hums. “It is late, and I want to be fresh and beautiful for my husband’s return tomorrow. I will leave you two to wrestle like piglets on the floor and bid you a good evening. Fallon, breakfast is at seven. Elizabeth, it has been lovely spending time with you.” She bends down, “You are good for my brother,” she whispers to me then walks through the open archway back inside the house.
“You are such a little shit,” I declare and pinch Fallon’s forearm. “She totally thinks we’re sleeping together.”
“Technically, we are.”Hello, cocky asshole. Welcome back. “Speaking of which,” he announces and lifts me up from the floor. “Time for bed.”
“You are not sleeping in my bed again tonight, Fallon Montgomery.”
“Wanna bet?” He lifts me off my feet and over his shoulder and walks into the house.
“What is it with you guys carrying me caveman-style?” Jayson and Ryder used to do this to me all the time.
