A Secret Between Friends: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 6) by Serenity Woods Page A
Authors: Serenity Woods
Ads: Link
squeezed.
“It’s good to have you home,” he said. “Whatever else is going on, I’m glad you didn’t die as well, Gin.”
“I’m glad I’m not dead, too.”
Chapter Six
Niall laughed. “I bet.” She grinned at him, and he felt a surge of fondness for her.
While he’d been on his own in Melbourne, he’d dealt with a rollercoaster of emotions, most of them concerning Genie Sharpe, which had frustrated him even more considering he’d just broken up with his long-term girlfriend and his sister had died. Shouldn’t he have been thinking more about them than the sassy chick who’d made much of his youth a misery?
But the truth was that Genie lay at the root of all his problems, the way plants failed due to bad soil. If she hadn’t convinced Ciara to go into the Army, Ciara would still be alive. But an even bigger personal problem was that if he’d been able to get her out of his head, he’d be engaged to Tamsin now, settling down without a care in the world.
He’d passed a good portion of the three weeks he’d spent in Melbourne cursing Genie, convincing himself he was mad at her, and that she was to blame for all his unhappiness. Being here with her now, though, he could no longer maintain that anger.
In the past, when she’d come home on leave, she’d brought the Army with her. She’d always worn her hair tightly pinned up, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in a skirt. Tonight, even though she wore jeans and a plain vest, for the first time in ages, years maybe, her hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders. She was such a pretty girl, with strong, well-defined features. When she smiled, her eyes creased at the edges and almost disappeared.
But she wasn’t just pretty on the surface. It was such a cliché, but the phrase about being beautiful inside really was true for her. Yes, when she was younger she’d irritated him on a regular basis, and even as an adult she’d made it her goal in life to goad and tease him. But like a pair of black panties worn beneath a white dress, Genie’s true nature always shone through. He’d missed her, but it was only now he realized how much.
She’d tipped her head onto the back of the sofa and was humming something, more relaxed than she had been when she’d first walked into the bar. He took another swallow of the whisky, letting the heat melt away his tension, as if he’d stepped into a warm bath.
“Are you going to show me your war wound?”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see it.”
Lazily, she gestured at her jeans. “They’re too tight to roll up.”
“So take ’em off.”
She rolled her eyes and swung her legs around so she could sit up. “I don’t think so. But I will change into something more comfortable.”
“A lacy nightie?”
“A pair of sweatpants, more like.” She pulled her bag toward her, unzipped the top, and rifled around in it. Not finding the item, she proceeded to slide open the zippers on one side of the bag, then the other. “Jeez. I can never find anything in here.”
He watched her with amusement. “I don’t get chicks’ bags. A guy would have a rucksack with one clip at the front.”
“We’re organized—we like to separate our stuff. Although I’m beginning to see your point.” She undid the zipper at the end of the bag and rummaged around the bottom. She exclaimed when she found the sweatpants she’d been looking for. Then she frowned and pulled out an envelope that had been tucked underneath them. “What’s this?” The flap was unstuck and she slid out the contents, which consisted of two sheets of folded A4 paper. Her jaw dropped.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’d completely forgotten.”
“What?”
She leaned back, still holding the papers. “It’s our bucket lists. Ciara’s and mine.” Her eyes glistened and her lips curved a little as she looked into the distance, obviously seeing another time and place.
“It’s good to have you home,” he said. “Whatever else is going on, I’m glad you didn’t die as well, Gin.”
“I’m glad I’m not dead, too.”
Chapter Six
Niall laughed. “I bet.” She grinned at him, and he felt a surge of fondness for her.
While he’d been on his own in Melbourne, he’d dealt with a rollercoaster of emotions, most of them concerning Genie Sharpe, which had frustrated him even more considering he’d just broken up with his long-term girlfriend and his sister had died. Shouldn’t he have been thinking more about them than the sassy chick who’d made much of his youth a misery?
But the truth was that Genie lay at the root of all his problems, the way plants failed due to bad soil. If she hadn’t convinced Ciara to go into the Army, Ciara would still be alive. But an even bigger personal problem was that if he’d been able to get her out of his head, he’d be engaged to Tamsin now, settling down without a care in the world.
He’d passed a good portion of the three weeks he’d spent in Melbourne cursing Genie, convincing himself he was mad at her, and that she was to blame for all his unhappiness. Being here with her now, though, he could no longer maintain that anger.
In the past, when she’d come home on leave, she’d brought the Army with her. She’d always worn her hair tightly pinned up, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in a skirt. Tonight, even though she wore jeans and a plain vest, for the first time in ages, years maybe, her hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders. She was such a pretty girl, with strong, well-defined features. When she smiled, her eyes creased at the edges and almost disappeared.
But she wasn’t just pretty on the surface. It was such a cliché, but the phrase about being beautiful inside really was true for her. Yes, when she was younger she’d irritated him on a regular basis, and even as an adult she’d made it her goal in life to goad and tease him. But like a pair of black panties worn beneath a white dress, Genie’s true nature always shone through. He’d missed her, but it was only now he realized how much.
She’d tipped her head onto the back of the sofa and was humming something, more relaxed than she had been when she’d first walked into the bar. He took another swallow of the whisky, letting the heat melt away his tension, as if he’d stepped into a warm bath.
“Are you going to show me your war wound?”
She lifted her head to look at him. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I’d like to see it.”
Lazily, she gestured at her jeans. “They’re too tight to roll up.”
“So take ’em off.”
She rolled her eyes and swung her legs around so she could sit up. “I don’t think so. But I will change into something more comfortable.”
“A lacy nightie?”
“A pair of sweatpants, more like.” She pulled her bag toward her, unzipped the top, and rifled around in it. Not finding the item, she proceeded to slide open the zippers on one side of the bag, then the other. “Jeez. I can never find anything in here.”
He watched her with amusement. “I don’t get chicks’ bags. A guy would have a rucksack with one clip at the front.”
“We’re organized—we like to separate our stuff. Although I’m beginning to see your point.” She undid the zipper at the end of the bag and rummaged around the bottom. She exclaimed when she found the sweatpants she’d been looking for. Then she frowned and pulled out an envelope that had been tucked underneath them. “What’s this?” The flap was unstuck and she slid out the contents, which consisted of two sheets of folded A4 paper. Her jaw dropped.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’d completely forgotten.”
“What?”
She leaned back, still holding the papers. “It’s our bucket lists. Ciara’s and mine.” Her eyes glistened and her lips curved a little as she looked into the distance, obviously seeing another time and place.
Similar Books
