Page 44 of Only One Tour Bus

“By thig dere gom frow,” she mumbles against my hand.

“Pardon?”

She repeats the words with no addition of clarity. Then I realize my hand is still on her mouth and snap it down.

“I think they’re gone now.”

I look over my shoulder, more to stop her from seeing me blush than any real care over the whereabouts of our invasive tourists. Damn Irish fair skin, giving away all the things I’d rather keep to myself. “You’re right. They’ve moved on.”

“Great.” There’s still laughter in her voice, despite the fact that she’s trying to keep it hidden now. For my delicate sensibilities? It’s not working; they feel very disrespected.

“So you can probably step back.”

No. The denial shoots through my head without my authorization. And she’s right; there’s no legitimate need to be this close to her. She’s not laughing anymore and the family is gone. But I don’t want to.

“And what if I don’t want to, then?” I don’t step away, but I don’t step closer either. Just because I want to be here, doesn’t mean she wants me here.

So I’ll leave it up to her.

CHAPTER 19

ASHA

Well, this is unexpected.

If you had told me anything else would happen today, I would have believed it easier. If you told me the sky would turn green, I would have believed it before believing Callum wants to be close to me. If you had told me that the British Museum was going to finally give back the Parthenon Marbles or that Rob was going to implement any of my suggestions, I would have believed it before this.

Instead, I’m less than a foot away from the man and he said the words, but I still don’t quite believe he said them. Maybe I’m having a hallucination. I did have eggs for breakfast, and maybe they were off and I’m imagining Callum saying sexy things that make my nether parts tingle.

Although I do find it telling that I can’t even get a smile from him in my own imagination. But he doesn’t look as unhappy as he usually does, so that is an improvement.

“You want to stay here?” I’m not going to tell him I want him more than I want chocolate. And I love chocolate.

I’m not going to be vulnerable first with someone who thinks happiness is a weakness.

“Yes. I would like that.” His lyrical voice is low, whispering an ancient Irish spell over me that’s keeping me rooted to this spot next to him. He’s a siren, is what he is.

And that never ended well for the poor sailors.

“Why, though?” But I’m moving closer, despite knowing the myths and how badly it ended. Isn’t knowledge supposed to serve as a warning?

Maybe it’s hope, making me think that this will end differently for me than it did for them. Or hubris, to think it won’t happen to me because I’m smarter than them.

Or maybe I don’t give a shit either way, I just want him closer. Damn the consequences.

“Because you get under my skin in a way I don’t want to escape.” He sounds frustrated at that, so there’s something realistic about this whole situation.

He moves in closer too, his right hand reaching out to touch my face. Like it’s the scout to see how he’s going to be received. Silly hand; I want it there. Which I hope to communicate by leaning into the warm, calloused appendage, warmth seeping into my cheek.

“I want you here, too,” I say, licking my lips. His eyes trace the movement.

“Then I’ll be here,” he whispers.

“Good.” I don’t get out any more because Callum is kissing me. Going from zero to a hundred in the span of a second. No slow, teasing kisses from Callum. Not that I should have expected any restraint from him.

He rarely holds back, whether in his opinions about me, or tourists, or souvenirs. Usually it’s annoying.

But usually his mouth isn’t on mine when he’s not holding back. I like it when he isn’t holding back in this one particular arena.