sniff of Niall Brennan was like taking a boat trip to Russell on a breezy day. It was a wonder the guy’s skin wasn’t as wrinkled as an eighty-year-old’s considering how much time he spent out in the sun and in the water, but he was the epitome of great health, sensibly tanned, every muscle on his body fit and toned. He wore jeans and an old faded navy T-shirt that bore the slogan “Divers Do it Deeper” in white. She had no doubt that the pots of mussels currently being served around the bar on seafood platters had been brought up from the ocean floor by him that morning.
He said something in answer to a question Beck asked, and his deep voice reverberated through his chest along with an accompanying low chuckle, but he continued to stroke her back, reassuring and soothing, telling her he hadn’t forgotten she was pressed up against him.
Genie closed her eyes, wishing she could stay there all evening. Even though he’d tormented her through her childhood and made much of her teenage life a misery with his teasing, and there had been tension between them since she and Ciara had enlisted, he’d always made her feel safe and secure, as if nothing could go wrong when he was nearby. He was one of life’s good guys, and she couldn’t believe Tamsin had let him escape her clutches. Why had they broken up? It didn’t make sense. She’d have to remember to ask him about it later.
She really should pull away. It would look odd if she didn’t step back soon. She hadn’t even hugged her brothers for this long. But Niall showed no signs of wanting to let her go. To her surprise, she felt the press of his lips on the top of her head, a gesture that sent heat through her. He was missing his sister, that was all. This was a party in Ciara’s honor, and he was trying to tell Genie that he was glad she hadn’t died too. It was an affectionate touch, a filial one.
He did not have the same feelings about her that she had about him.
Genie bit her lip. He’d never been aware of the huge crush she’d had on him the whole way through her teenage years. She’d been careful to hide it behind a veneer of mock-annoyance and banter, and had played the irritating little sister card well. But as his hand brushed lightly down her back stirring all kinds of hidden feelings the way a hand trailed through the sea would swirl the sand beneath it, she knew nothing had changed.
Clearing her throat, she pushed herself back and gave his arm a playful whack. “Did you touch my butt then?”
He gave her the usual, exasperated smile he reserved just for her. “In your dreams.”
Mmm. Little do you know, Niall Brennan.
“Charming. Having a grope when your mate’s experiencing a poignant moment.”
He laughed and brushed his fingers against her cheek. “It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back.” Her face tingled where he’d touched her, but she ignored it and instead looked past him across the bar. It was good to be back. She’d missed the Bay of Islands, the warm, sultry summer evenings infused with the smell of jasmine, the sound of seagulls and the gentle brush of waves along Paihia beach, the taste of salt and barbecued food.
She’d also missed the bar. Beck had trained at the Professional Bar and Restaurant School in Auckland and had worked on a cruise liner for a couple of years, serving behind the bar and enjoying his main love, mixing cocktails. Then, just a year ago, their father had died.
After making a small fortune in the building industry when house prices skyrocketed in Doubtless Bay, their father had moved back to the nearby small seaside town of Opua when Genie was sixteen. When he’d died, he’d left behind a spacious home and a decent amount of money to be divided between his three kids. Beck had spent his part of the inheritance on Between the Sheets , a bar on Paihia’s seafront that served drinks of all kinds, but especially his favorite, cocktails.
Situated in the town center, but
Marc Nager, Clint Nelsen, Franck Nouyrigat