Misty: Lyrebird Lake Book 2 by Fiona McArthur

Author:Fiona McArthur [McArthur, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648718161

Chapter 15

Misty

* * *

Misty didn’t doubt he cursed himself for giving away even that much so she didn’t comment on his regrets. But it was nice to get at least a tiny glimpse of what he’d been like as a father. ‘Maybe you could try and remember some skits for when she’s in labour.’

‘Hmm. That would go down well,’ Ben said. They smiled at each other. Humour in the birth unit was rarely appreciated by the woman in labour, and they both knew it. ‘She’s sixteen. Apparently, I’m not going anywhere near her until after the baby is born.’

‘She told you that?’

‘Yeah. But that’s fine. I’ll be a mess anyway and probably wouldn’t be any help to her.’

‘Poor midwife, having you in the background.’

‘Poor you.’ He said with that wicked smile in his eyes. Seriously, the guy looked in good humour today. A side of him she’d not seen before which she enjoyed rather too much.

‘Yeah. Poor me.’

They smiled at each other again and the mood shifted, flirted, fluttering movement between them like the butterflies in her belly.

Without taking his eyes off her, Ben reached into the bag and pulled out a neatly folded rug. He knelt down and unfolded it over the scratchy grass. Glanced down and smoothed his side with his big hand. Strong and capable. Smoothing the rug. She couldn’t help imagining, wishing…

‘Would you like to sit down?’ he said, and Misty felt that flutter in her stomach respond to the invitation in his voice and eyes. Automatically she straightened her own side of the mat until it lay between them like a tartan square of no-man’s-land that she wasn’t sure she was game to invade.

Ben just raised his brows as if amused at her hesitation and stretched himself out. He pulled the bag across and produced a bottle. ‘If you sit next to me I’ll give you a mango juice. I know you like it.’

Misty had to smile. So, he’d remembered that from the beach, had he? ‘I didn’t drink it last time.’

‘And very sensible you were, but it’s hotter today and you must be parched from beating me in a canoe race.’

‘You shouldn’t be the one to sound smug.’

‘Smug?’ She watched him mull over the word and then nod his head. ‘Yep.’ He nodded again with conviction. ‘As the only person here with cold juice to offer, I am feeling smug.’

‘As the outright winner, I, too, am smug. Therefore, I will accept your offer of a cold drink. Thank you.’

She eased onto the mat next to him and took the bottle. The brush of his fingers made her pulse rate increase and she looked away. This was not a good idea. When she opened the lid of the bottle, the cracking sound of the broken seal seemed to echo around her.

Why did her senses become so much more receptive when she was near Ben?

They both gazed out onto the lake through the low branches of the overhanging trees. The sun glinted off the serene surface of the water, the juice was icy cold and fruity, and the company was.

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