Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“How long before the sprogs go to bed?” she asks.
“In about six hours, if you give them those marshmallows.”
My eyes widen, and I quickly snatch the treat out of Elijah’s hand as Abbie takes the bag from me, slams her foot on the pedal of the bin, and drops it in. “Anyone got any sleeping pills?”
I laugh and take a seat at the island with Elijah on my lap, accepting the wine Charley slides across. “Thanks.”
“Glad it’s the weekend?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Abbie says, joining me after giving Ena her Tommee Tippee cup. “You work on weekends too.”
“This weekend I do,” I grumble. “I’ve got things to catch up on after taking a day off.” And falling into too many conflicting daydreams. You will be having dinner with me. Only if I agree. And yet I’m certain he could get a yes out of me, despite my adamance. “I—” My mobile rings on the island, buzzing across the marble.
“Don’t you dare answer that,” Abbie warns, pulling it away from my reach before I have a chance to see who’s calling me.
“Come on, it could be a client.”
“Exactly, and it’s Friday evening.” She looks at the screen.
“Who is it?”
“No name,” she says, and I settle. I have all my clients saved. “It’s probably one of those annoying sales calls.” She answers, clicking it to speaker. “Hi, this is Amelia’s phone. She can’t take your call right now because she’s busy fantasising about having hand sex with a perfect stranger in the ladies’. Please leave a message, and she’ll call right back when she’s come.”
Charley nearly chokes on a Quaver, while I shake my head in mild despair at my wayward friend.
“She doesn’t need to fantasise,” a low, deep, sexy voice says, an edge of seriousness lacing the edges. “I’d happily fuck her hands again, or anything else she wants me to fuck.”
The Quaver Charley was choking on flies out of her mouth when she coughs, I nearly drop her eldest baby, and Abbie throws my phone on the counter like it’s caught fire, looking at me with wide, disbelieving eyes.
“No,” I whisper, horrified, frozen, and everything in between, as I stare at my phone, the call still connected.
Elijah bounces on my lap. “Ring, ring!” he cheers. “Hi, hi!”
Charley throws her upper body across the counter, getting her mouth close to my mobile. “There are children present!”
I scramble to reach for my phone, punching at the screen to cut the call. “Oh my God,” I breathe, as my friends stare at me with gaping mouths.
“You have to go for dinner with him,” Abbie says. “I’m living for this sexual showdown.”
“No,” Charley snaps. “He’s obviously only after one thing.”
“And what’s wrong with that?” Abbie asks. “She’s a free agent. Do you expect her to be celibate until her happily ever after comes along?”
And that’s a good point, isn’t it? This man isn’t happy-ever-after material. And given I’m not interested in a happily ever after ever right now, he’s a good bet. A safe bet.
Right?
Charley laughs. It’s sarcastic. “Don’t take relationship advice from the woman who compares every man to a one-night stand she had in France with a man who wouldn’t even give her his name.”
“He didn’t know my name either,” Abbie protests. “It was a mutual understanding.”
“It’s unhealthy.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but life doesn’t work out perfect for everyone like it has for you.” Abbie reaches for the wine and tops up. “Fuck the God, Amelia,” she snaps. “That’s an order.”
“For God’s sake.” Charley puts her hands over Ena’s ears and looks at me to do the same with Elijah. I shrug. One hand is holding my wine, the other holding Elijah on my lap.
“I . . .” I frown when I hear the distant voice of a man. “Can you hear that?” Everyone stills and listens. “There it is again.” I follow the sound of the voice.
All the way down to Elijah’s hands.
Where my mobile is held between his chubby fingers.
The screen is illuminated.
Oh my God, he’s called him back!
I jump up, off-load Elijah onto Abbie, and snatch the phone out of his hand. He immediately screams. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I say to Charley as I stare down at the number, cringing.
“Talk to him,” Abbie hisses, flapping her hand at me.
On a sigh of resignation and a ton of yet more mortification, I take my wine and leave the kitchen, my phone at my ear. “Hi.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Which one?” I ask, looking back to see Abbie following me, her ears pricked. She doesn’t make it far. Charley hauls her back to the island and pushes her down onto a stool. I go into the lounge and swipe the toys off a cushion, lowering.
“The loud one,” he says.
“That’s Elijah.”
“Your boyfriend?”
I roll my eyes and try not to smile. “It’s Charley’s eldest. He’s a toddler.”
“And Charley is . . . ?”