Page 52 of Rafferty's Rules
‘Good,’ she replies, somewhat mollified.
‘And adding to Roman’s brownie points, he helped me charm the shipping agent today. Your luggage is gonna be flown out of Picton back to Sydney.’
‘Really? My goodness! And there was no charge?’
‘Roman can be pretty charming when he likes.’ Even if I was the one holding the credit card. Not that there’s any reason for me to mention I paid through the nose to get her bags flown back to Sydney. I’m not in the market for brownie points. Or a scolding. And it’s hard to tell which of these Lissa would be most likely to bestow on me.
‘Oh,’ she exclaims, lighting up. ‘That means I’ll have something suitable to wear for the wedding.’
‘Hm. I suppose.’ Can’t say I feel ecstatic about her wearing clothes she bought to go on her honeymoon.What kind of a moron am I these days?I mentally slap myself for being dumb.
‘I also got you this.’ Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a credit card size package, sliding it across the table between us.
‘A prepaid sim?’
‘I don’t have your number, and I guess you don’t want to keep your current number on.’
‘No, roaming charges are very expensive,’ she demurs. It goes unsaid between us that this isn’t the truth behind her not using her phone. She just doesn’t want to hear from her ex, her folks, and maybe her friends. And I respect that. Get it, even. The need to not be accessible. And she’s already made it perfectly clear that this vacation is all about her. She should be allowed to spend her time how she sees fit.
Fucking my brains out.
This time, I mentally punch myself in the face.
‘What do I owe you for this?’
‘Nothing. I get one free with my current phone plan. It comes with a few dollars to use. Data, calls, and texts.’ I don’t mention that’s because I’ve stuck a hundred bucks of credit on the thing. I’m not arguing about this with her.
‘Thank you. I’ll give you it back before I leave. Oh, excuse me,’ Lissa says quite suddenly, covering a delicate yawn with her hand. ‘I’m beat. All that sunshine and exercise—’
‘Not to mention risking life and limb.’ My statement makes me think of the scar on her chest again.
‘Yes, well, it’s been a big day, so I think I’ll turn in. Will you ... be joining me anytime soon?’
My head is suddenly filled with the image of her touching her own nipples over her shirt.
‘Yeah.’ Fuck yeah. My answer is rough and a little rasping, my fingers digging into the arms of the chair in an attempt to stay put.
‘Good. That’s good.’ And I just know it will be, even if it goes against everything I’ve told myself.Maybe I should chuck myself under a cold shower before I make it to bed.‘But before you do, I have this for you.’ She pulls a sheet of folded notepaper from the back pocket of her shorts, then stands, gathering Cat the cat and his towel, in her arms. ‘I’m going to put him in the kitchen overnight if that’s all right?’ I nod, but she’s already carrying on. ‘He has a box, and I bought him food, and I know he can’t stay, but—’
‘Lissa, breathe. It’s fine. Do what you need to.’
‘Funny,’ she says with a wry expression. ‘That’s what this is about.’ She gestures to the folded note in her hand.
‘I’m not sure I follow,’ I answer, my gaze flicking from her face to the note.
‘About doing what you need to do.’ Her smile turns quizzical as she passes me the note, producing a pen from where she’d been sitting. ‘I thought,I hope, this might help. Help you, at any rate. And I really hope you’ll say yes.’
I watch her leave, straight-backed, poised, and confident.Fake it until you make it, babe.
My gaze eventually falls to the note in my hand. Through the folded page, I see the faint outline of a cursive, feminine hand, the writing in a blue ballpoint pen. Intrigued, yet still thinking about her retreating form, I unfold the paper, physically jolting as I read:
Rafferty’s Rules.
In order to spend the next twelve days with Alyssa Montgomery, having wonderful no-strings and no-holds-barred sexy times, I need her to understand:
(list below as appropriate)
As I stare down at the missive open in my palm, all I can think is:
