Page 38 of Easy
‘Fun?’ She quirks a mischievous brow. ‘Not that I’d know, or anything,’ she’s quick to add.
No, she definitely doesn’t look like the type to sleep with a male escort.
Shit. Does that mean I do?
‘It’s just, when you saidunder him,it looked like you thought it’d be fun.’
‘It’s not like that,’ I reply, knowing full well the colour in my face reads like a big red sign.Liar! Liar! Pants on fire!Or maybe it isn’t like that really. I mean, it’s not like he’d charged for the sex we almost had.
‘Daddy, Mummy said that being under Uncle Will is fun.’ Both Ella and I look up to find Mac standing on the other side of the low barrier. ‘Do they play tickle games, too? Like you and Mummy do.’
That expression he’s currently wearing? Foreboding doesn’t even cover it.
‘That’s not what—’
‘Pay no attention to grumpy pants,’ Ella says, laughingly cutting off my words. ‘He knows there’s only one on the tickle team for me.’
But her reassurance isn’t very reassuring, especially as he turns his head, his gaze finding Will like a missile. It appears to be half-time or something. Anyway, both teams are inactive except for the stretching of muscles and the heaving of chests.
‘Don’t do anything silly!’ Ella calls after Mac as he stalks away.
From the other side of the field, Keir appears to say something to make Will laugh. He straightens, slapping his friend on the back. His expression changes as he noticed the angry man stalking towards him. From laughter, to that ever-present teasing glint, to something that looks like concern.
‘Look, Juno, Daddy’s just about to make an idiot of himself,’ Ella coos, turning her attention to Juno as she begins to squirm unhappily.
‘Is he going to—’
‘Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. I do worry about the other team, though,’ she says as a whistle blows and the play resumes.Not half-time, then.
I become a little preoccupied with where Mac is on the field after that, particularly in relation to Will. The man is like a mad man, knocking down men like they’re pins. Thankfully, he gets nowhere near Will; though whether by accident or Will’s wily design, it’s hard to tell.
When the half-time whistledoeseventually blow, I find Will on the other side of the small fence, smiling as widely as someone can when wearing a mouthguard. Panting heavily, he leans across the fence. His perfectly styled hair is a mess, the muscles in his forearms tensing as he plants a muddy, smacking kiss on my cheek.
‘Good game?’ I ask, trying not to be too affected, despite the fact that all I can imagine is this is what he must look like after sex. Minus the mud, at least.
‘Aye, braw.’ His tone is gravelly with exertion—with his accent—as he leans over the fence, this time to grab a sports bottle from a bag near Ella, who’s currently preoccupied unfastening Juno from her baby harness while answering Louis’s stream of questions.
‘Is it the game or being around your friends that makes you talk differently?’ I suddenly ask.
‘Different? How so?’ Does he look delighted that I noticed, or happy that I asked?
‘You’re more, arr!’ I find myself making both the call and odd gesture of a Disney pirate.Sort of like I’m ironing the collar of a shirt.
‘Like Long John Silver?’
‘I mean all manly man.’
‘Remind me never to partner with you for charades.’ He chuckles. ‘And in case the raw display of masculinity evaded you during the first half of the game, wearemen. Ergo, manly.’
‘Around them, your accent is different.’
‘They’re Scots. They bring out the Scots in me.’ As he raises his gaze to mine, I’m not sure if it’s confusion I’m seeing or hurt.
‘I detected a hint of something in that urbane speech the first day we met. I thought it was Scandinavian.’ Nowthatlook is pure Will delight.
‘Clever girl. My family seat is as far north as you can get, relatively speaking. In the Isles. The accent is a little different up there.’ His family has a seat? Like, just one?
‘But it’s more than that.’ He peers back at me from beneath his brows once again. ‘It’s like, maybe you’re at home around them.’
