Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
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Family dinner with Max and Kit was a tradition that I insisted upon. It used to get awkward back in the early days whenever Max asked why Kit and I broke up but since Max was old enough to realise that some things are better left in the past, our weekly Sunday get together has been hassle free.
This week, it was Kit's turn to host family dinner. His house in Westminster was huge; an imposing listed building, the house was a labour of love for Kit. He's been constantly upgrading features throughout, adding elements of modernity while trying to keep some of that centuries-old charm. Having been with him the day he signed for the house, I've had a bit of a say in how he goes about renovating the place, most notably the kitchen that dominated the heart of the home.
With light marble flooring contrasting the dark cabinets, the kitchen was one of the few ultra-modern touches he was allowed to have seen as Kit demanded to have a large fridge-freezer contraption as well as a large wine cooler. He has a wine cellar, too, but that was mainly for his prized collection of vintage wines and not his 'day-to-day' bottles, as he liked to call the ones that were more 'mainstream.' Honestly, sometimes I have no idea what I ever saw in this pompous idiot.
"I think we should open a Sangiovese. What do you think?" Kit asks as he looks at me from where he stands near his wine cooler.
His eyebrows are drawn together, shadowing his dark eyes in a way that makes him look achingly brooding. With his lips knotted together in thought, I can't help but avert my eyes to anywhere else. Unfortunately for me, my eyes are drawn to his muscular forearms that are on display from where he rolled up his shirt sleeves, faint black swirls on his skin making me smile. I remember the day he came back from the tattooist and proudly showed me the new inking he had- my initials etched on his skin permanently. Of course, my smile fades when I recall that he'd had the tattoo when he was in the throes of an affair with my sister.
"I've been thinking about getting it covered," Kit's distracted voice speaks. Snapping my eyes up towards him, I watch as he pulls out a bottle of red wine and proceeds to open it, expertly pulling the cork so that it doesn't split. Pouring a glass of wine, he pushed it towards me and watched me with cautious eyes. "Or removed. No point having it anymore, right?"
