closing hours.”
“Is that legal?”
“Sure, the bar just can’t ‘charge’ for drinks.”
“Ah.”
“We have one more song to sing, then we can go make use of the free bar. Are you ready for the closing act?”
She nodded. “Yes. Ready.”
Getting all cutesy with the man she had almost “shagged” outside in the beer garden before his aunt had walked in on them, well, it all seemed a bit high school-esque. But there they were, singing “You’re The One That I Want” with fake smiles and daft dance moves.
And, boy, could that man move, and he crack-a-lacked it Danny style with a coolness she admired.
A crack of lightning hit nearby, so close it vibrated through the floor of the pub. Zoe glanced at Dylan, who shrugged and carried on singing. Yeah, he was having a hella time and funning it up too hard to be bothered by the beginnings of a thunderstorm.
A tree branch smashed against a window, and it pounded again and again until it fell through and sent tiny shards of glass everywhere.
He stilled.
Women screamed, and men howled with laughter and pointed their fingers.
Zoe yelped and bounced into Dylan’s arms.
“Don’t worry, Chantilly. Just a bit of noise, be over in a tick.” He put the microphone to his mouth and asked, “Anyone hurt?”
He was met with a resounding no, and requests for him to carry on singing.
“Screw that. It’s time for me to leave,” Zoe announced.
“You’re not driving anywhere, Miss America.”
“And why’s that?”
“Had one too many for the road, love.”
“Nuh-uh,” she quipped. “I’ve only had two beers.”
“And the couple of shots you knocked back earlier.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He snickered.
“You, it’s your fault, Dylan Mostyn. I was meant to stay sober to drive Betty home.”
“She’s already left, pissed off she was.”
“Left? Without me?”
“Yup, she left with the Rev.” He whispered, “I think she’s mad at us.”
“Yes, she is, and it turns me on to think we’re forbidden.”
He raised a brow. “Oh?”
“I feel like a kid in high school sneaking out at night to see my forbidden boyfriend.”
“And you did that a lot, did you?” He jabbed her in the ribs. “Did you?”
Shivers trickled down her spine, and her stomach whirled.
“Speechless, I see. That means I’m right.” He shoved his hand out, palm facing up. “Now, hand me your keys then and we’ll get a move on.”
“You’ve been drinking, too. You can’t drive.”
“I had two whiskeys and a light beer hours ago, and most recently a coffee and a packet of crisps. I’m sure I’m fine now. Let me be your hero and drive you home.”
“I like this side of you.”
“Which side? This side?” He turned so his left side faced her. “Or this side?” He pivoted to face the opposite direction.
“Ha ha. You know what I mean. The nice side. All heroic and stuff.”
“I only offered to drive you home.” He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Chantilly.”
“But, wait, I must say goodbye to Steven and David first. And Flo.”
“No, no you don’t.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the exit.
They climbed into the rented Mini.
She giggled at how large he seemed in the little car. “So much for us sexing it up in the backseat.”
“Yeah, not likely. I barely fit in the front of this thing.”
He zipped that vehicle around the country roads with a speed and ease that impressed her, and she was quite sure she was gawking at him. She didn’t care. Seemed to her that foreplay was over. Now came the real play.
“It’s my beard, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“The reason you’re staring at me?”
“No, I’m thinking is all.” She cocked her head, unable to steer her gaze from him—the slight lines around his eyes, his full lips, and his thick hair. Oh, how she’d like to rake her fingers through that mop of his while he claimed her.
“About?”
“You.” She shifted in her seat. “You’re so raw.”
“Raw? Piece of meat, am