Page 30 of Rafferty's Rules
Talk turns to Lissa’s life back home; her job and her hobbies and how she loves animals and plans on getting a pet when she gets back.
‘Maybe a puppy. I’ve always wanted a dog. I’m also getting a tattoo, definitely.’
She talks a little more about her family, telling us that her birth was a surprise to her parents as they’d assumed they weren’t about to be blessed with anymore kids after her brother. Oh, and that her father is a lay preacher, and that her family is big in to the church.
She’s bright and funny, and if she’s feeling uncomfortable, she doesn’t show it, and any of Roman’s questions she can’t answer, I bat off. Such as how long we’ve been dating.Five stunned minutes, and it’s only pretend. And when she’s going back to the States and how long before we’ll see each other again.
He tells her a little about his modelling and even divulges that I’d dabbled a few years ago, too. This seems to amuse Lissa to no end, and she doesn’t protest when I refill her glass for the third time. She’s not drunk but giggly. And delightful to watch.
‘So, four boys. No sisters?’ she asks, a tempting blush making her cheeks pink.
‘I reckon there are four of us because the parentals kept trying for a girl after the first two. I think it was probably punishment they got the pair of us.’
‘Yeah, and promptly stopped after you were born. You know why, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ he mutters, waving a dismissive hand. ‘I was so ugly the midwife slapped Mum instead of my arse.’
‘Head, arse, it was hard to tell the difference. It’s still pretty hard now.’
‘That’s why they have me on the covers of magazines,’ he answers, stretching languidly in his chair.
‘Because you’re the modern-day version of a circus freak—like the bearded lady or the fella who looked like a wolf.’
‘You two are really mean to each other,’ Lissa says with a cute giggle.
‘Just you wait, this isn’t bad. Once you’re on the estate and we’re into our fourth bottle of wine.’
‘He doesn’t mean each, does he?’ Her gaze glides to mine, slightly horrified.
I shake my head. ‘It’s just not the done thing not to drink wine with your meal when you live on a winery.’
‘Your family has a winery?’ she asks with a little squeak.
‘Only the oldest one in the Hunter Valley,’ Roman offers magnanimously. ‘You’ll love it out there. It’s beautiful all year round but especially around harvest.’
‘A family winery,’ Lissa begins, tapping the following out on her fingers. ‘And Byron, Flynn, Roman, and Rafferty. Is that right?’
‘Yep, but I wouldn’t have faulted you if you’d only remembered the important two,’ Roman answers.
‘And it’s Rafferty and Roman,’ I add.
‘That right,’ Roman agrees. ‘Age before beauty.’
‘I stand corrected.’ Lissa giggles. It must be the wine because Roman’s not funny. ‘Rafferty and Roman. Cute alliteration, guys!’
Roman sighs, and across the table, our eyes lock. I immediately know what’s coming next.
‘He hasn’t told you the family lore of our names, has he?’
‘No.’ Her answer is little more than an excited breath, the kind of breath that reminds me of all the reasons I shouldn’t have suggested she stay. It’s the kind of sound she’d make if I kissed her by surprise. The kind of exhalation I’d hear if I bit the inside of her thigh.
‘Ha!’ Roman exclaims, causing me to groan. ‘Excellent. I’m much better at telling stories than he is, anyway.’
‘You’re much more bloody annoying.’
‘Right, so, the family lore,’ he rattles off, completely ignoring me. ‘When we were growing up, Mum and Dad told the four of us the story of where we came from.’
‘Not the birds and the bees?’
