Undercover Engagement (Private Pleasures 5)

Nope. When it came to Eden Brixton, reasonable wasn’t anywhere near the top five.

…

Eden stepped out onto the porch, barefoot, when she heard the Honda come up the driveway. She left the door open behind her so the music from the TV could carry but let the screen door slam shut to keep out the bugs. Swain looked up from where he crouched, getting a fire going in the round, iron pit. “Partners,” she said by way of explanation and put a bucket full of ice and longnecks on the cement between two of the four low-slung Adirondack chairs around the pit before taking a seat. She reached into the bucket, then reached over and handed him a beer before taking one for herself. “I wouldn’t want you to have to maintain a holding pattern while you wait for me.”

“Partners,” he echoed and tapped his beer to hers before the dual slams of the Honda doors disturbed the quiet night.

She didn’t know exactly what had gotten into him with the whole ‘no flying solo’ business, but she sensed they’d reached equilibrium finally. Or equal footing, given that it applied to both of them. They were working together. They were on the same page. It felt like a victory. Silently toasting herself with a sip of beer, she watched Ke

nny and Dobie approach.

“Hey, boys.” Swain stood and held his arms wide to encompass the porch, with its vine-twined posts and leafy overhang. “Welcome to the garden of Eden. Grab a beer and take a seat.

Dobie sat in the chair to her left. “Hey.” He settled in and looked around. “This is nice.”

Swain took the chair opposite her. The flickering fire between them dappled copper over his skin and into his hair. “See, choux? I told you. It’s nice.”

Kenny took the chair to her right. She handed him a beer from the bucket. “Not nice enough for our wedding.”

“Ah, Jesus. Are we back to that?” Swain thumped Dobie’s shoulder. “We have guests. What would you like to discuss, man? Sports. Current events?”

“Uh…” He pointed at Kenny. “His mom is in charge of events at the Riverview Inn. She can probably work you a deal on the reception. Kenny can mention we owe you a favor.”

Swain stared at Dobie, then grinned and wagged a finger in her direction. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dobie nodded. “Yep.”

“Oh, please.” She wet her fingers in the ice bucket and flicked drops at Swain. “I asked him to mention it. That’s all. Just think about it, okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Okay.”

She smiled at him. Batted her eyes. “And maybe sometime next week we could go look at the Inn?”

That earned her a sigh. “Okay.”

“And while we’re there, maybe we could talk to Ms. Whelan?”

Swain got up, stepped around Kenny, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his. His hand slid into her hair. After a thorough kiss, he eased back. “Okay, ma chouchoute.”

Her lips tingled. Maybe her body meant it as a warning, but duty called. She pushed her luck. “And see how much—”

He pressed his mouth to hers again, quick and firm. “Okay.” And again. “Okay.” And again. “Okay.” The guys started laughing at his method of shutting her up.

She shoved him away but didn’t bother hiding her smile. “Get off me, cooyon. We have guests.” Surely the future Mrs. Swain could take a joke, even when it was on her? Plus, she’d gotten what she wanted. For Kenny, she brightened her smile and said, “If you could mention to your mother that we’ll be coming by to see her next Wednesday around four, I’d really appreciate it.”

“No problem. She’ll take good care of you.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Yeah. Thanks, man,” Swain said, sounding not at all thankful.

Dobie cleared his throat. “I know all this wedding stuff stresses people out, so Kenny and I brought along a little guaranteed stress reliever.” He reached into the front pocket of his loose jeans and pulled out a baggie containing a tightly rolled joint. “If you’re interested?”

“Oh, dude.” Swain hung his head. “She hates when I partake. Can’t stand the smell.”

What? Where was that on their page? But she went with it, sort of. “He makes me sound like such a buzzkill. I’m allergic to the smoke. But if you guys want to—”

“Not here,” Swain interrupted. “She’s downplaying things, ’cause you guys have been cool to us, but I’ll have to listen to her complain all night if it smells like a skunk died under our porch.” He winked at Dobie. “There’s other things I’d like her to do with her mouth tonight, instead of chew my ass.”