Free Fated Bliss (Bliss #2) by Cassie Strickland

awed. “That’s insane!”
    “You have no idea,” Paul muttered, pressing his lips together.
    Lyric and Paul shared a look and began an unspoken conversation. Grey and I were like that, too. It drove my mother nuts when we were younger, because that’s when we got into the most mischief or we were hoping to hide whatever it was that we did wrong that day.
    Finally, Paul groaned and put his head in his hands. Lyric grinned in triumph, clearly winning whatever discussion they were having.
    “What are their names?” I probed when they didn’t say anything else. “The town isn’t that big; I’m sure I know them.”
    “Oh, I’m sure you know him,” Lyric confessed, holding in her laughter again.
    What was so freaking funny about this?
    “And…?”
    “I’m sure you call him Dr. Melbourne, but we call him Pops.”
    “No way!” I cried, floored. “I love Dr. Melbourne!”
    Paul leaned forward and rested his head on the table, unable to control his laughter. Lyric appeared proud of herself for some reason and smiled wide.
    “Is he your grandfather?” I asked, but that didn’t add up. From what I recalled – he was rather chatty during his exams – Dr. Melbourne had one daughter and she only had a son.
    Lyric shook her head. “No. He’s a…great uncle, I guess you could say. It’s a bit complex.”
    Before I could interrogate her further, cheers rang out from the crowd below and the band took the stage. They started playing immediately, ending our discussion – there was no way to talk over the loud music.
    I made a mental note to tell Dr. Melbourne that I met his kin while in London. The old man would get a hoot out of it.
    “Shots!” Lyric hollered over the music and made Paul stop the waitress passing us. He paid for three tubes and then handed them over. Lyric held up her glass and shouted, “To fate!”
    Okay...
    I guess that made sense in a weird sort of way.
    “To fate,” I repeated, and we clinked our glasses together.
    The initial burn faded quickly, but the liquid, whatever it was, warmed me. I stood and rested my hips against the railing. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Lyric doing the same.
    We stared down at the stage and watched the band play. They were really good. The singer was full of life, a true entertainer. She felt the lyrics she belted out, giving life to the music as she danced across the stage.
    The song was faster than the one I heard when we arrived, and I found myself swaying to the beat. I started loosening a bit, then really got into it, raising my hands in the air as I rocked my hips from side to side. I loved to dance. It got your blood pumping, your endorphins raging.
    Suddenly, Ben placed his hands on both side of the rail, his powerful arms surrounding me, and leaned in – I could feel his heat against my back. A low flame erupted in my belly and slowly tendriled outward. Lord in heaven, even my heart fluttered.
    “Having fun?” Ben asked against my ear.
    My skin tingled.
    Everywhere.
    I merely nodded, not able to voice an answer. My throat was dry, my tongue thick.
    “Good,” he replied in a whisper, his mouth closer.
    I had to suppress a whimper. His breath against my neck was heady, prickling my senses. I wanted him closer, yearned for his touch, for him to rest his lips on my skin. He was torturing me, plain and simple, and I was positive that was his intention because he didn’t move.
    Act natural, Sam. Take it easy.
    Ben didn’t step away as we listened to a few more songs. I was keenly aware of him, indifferent to the notes coming from the singer’s mouth or what anyone was doing around us.
    It was maddening.
    I’d let him take the lead practically the whole evening – heck, since I met him – but I decided enough was enough. I wanted him, and I was going to use everything in my arsenal to get him.
    After allowing myself a few moments to build the courage, I turned slowly. Ben’s eyes were on me, not the stage, when I faced him. I leaned to