Текст книги "Down London Road"

Автор книги: Samantha Young

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

6

As I had been on every Wednesday that had come before it, I was shattered the next day. My Tuesday shift at Club 39 followed by my Wednesday day shift at Meikle & Young was the worst part of my week. I shared the job as personal assistant to Mr Meikle with another girl called Lucy. I had never met Lucy, but we left little messages all the time to let each other know what had been done and what still needed to be done, so I felt like I knew her. She always put smiley faces at the end of any request so it didn’t come off as a demand. I thought that was nice and often wondered if Mr Meikle was pleasant to the girl with the smiley faces. I hoped so.

He certainly wasn’t pleasant to me.

That morning I’d almost managed to get everything right. With three hours to go in the workday, I had been sitting franking mail that was to go out that night, trying to get Cam’s stupid, arrogant voice out of my head, when Mr Meikle came out of his office and obnoxiously waved a letter in my face.

As I gazed up at him from my seat I wondered for a second if his problem with me had something to do with my height. I was a good three inches taller than he was, and he always looked rather nonplussed when we were standing together, and smug whenever I was sitting and he was standing over me. ‘Sir?’ I asked, my eyes crossing as I tried to make out what the bloody hell he was dangling before me.

‘I was about to sign the letter you were sending out to this client, Joanne, when I discovered two errors.’ His face was red with frustration as he pulled the paper back to shove two fingers in my face. ‘Two.’

I blanched. Damn my lack of sleep. ‘Sorry, Mr Meikle, I’ll fix that right away.’

He harrumphed and slapped the letter on my desk. ‘It had better be perfect. Lucy can always manage it, for goodness’ sake.’ He strode back to his office and then snapped around, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses. ‘I thought I had two appointments this afternoon, Joanne?’

I had worked for Mr Meikle for almost two years now, so it was long past the appropriate time to correct him on my name. He’d called me Joanne instead of Johanna since the beginning, despite the fact that he was the one who handed me my wage slip every month. The wage slip that clearly said ‘Miss Johanna Walker’ on it. Numpty.

‘Yes, sir.’ In fact one of his appointments was with Malcolm. ‘You have Mr Hendry in fifteen minutes and a four o’clock appointment with Mrs Drummond.’

Without another word he slammed back inside his office. I stared at his door and then at the letter he’d slapped on my desk. Turning it over, I noted he’d circled the two errors in red pen. I’d missed the apostrophe in ‘Meikle & Young’s’ and had missed the colon after ‘telephone number’. ‘Pedantic twit,’ I muttered, pushing my chair back to the desk. It took me only seconds to find the file on the computer, fix the errors and print the corrected version off. I left it with him without a word and closed his office door behind me.

The firm rented its space on the first floor of one of the old Georgian buildings on Melville Street. The street was quintessential Edinburgh – picture-perfect period properties with their black wrought-iron fencing and shiny big doors. Mr Young’s office and reception area were in the front of the converted flat, and two other accountants’ offices were across the hall from Mr Meikle’s. Meikle’s reception area had a large window that looked down over the street. So did his office. It was a pity his personality didn’t match the refined elegance of the firm’s residence.

When Malcolm walked in, I hurriedly clicked the solitaire game off my screen so he couldn’t see I was mucking around, and I beamed at him, pleased to see him. This was where I’d met him.

After breaking up with Steven, I’d dated a few duds. Then several months later, Malcolm had walked into Meikle’s office for a consultation. While he waited for Meikle to call him in to his office for his appointment Malcolm charmed the pants off me with his self-deprecating humour and great smile. He’d asked for my number, and the rest, as they say, was history.

‘Hi, baby.’ Malcolm grinned at me, and I watched him with pleasure as he approached my desk. He wore another beautiful grey suit from Savile Row, his face cleanly shaven, his skin tanned even in winter. Such a distinguished, classy man, and he’s mine, I thought appreciatively.

And he came bearing gifts.

He held out a coffee cup and a brown bag. ‘Latte with chocolate sprinkles and a white chocolate chip cookie.’ His warm lips brushed mine slowly, gently, seductively. I was disappointed when he pulled back, but he’d brought my favourite coffee and cookie, so I wasn’t complaining. In fact, my insides melted. ‘Thought you might need the pick-me-up. You work too hard.’

‘Thank you.’ I bestowed my most grateful smile on him. ‘I really needed this.’

‘Thank me later.’ He winked at me and I made a face, unable to stop the laughter bubbling up at his boyish grin.

Shaking my head, I waved him towards the seats. ‘I better let Mr Meikle know you’re here.’

A few seconds later, Meikle came out to greet Malcolm and they disappeared inside his office. I sat back with a contented sigh to enjoy my latte and cookie.

I smiled down at the cup and slid a glance towards the office door.

You’ve done well for yourself this time, Jo.

Don’t mess it up.

Feeling a little more awake now, I stared at the computer in boredom. I’d done everything that needed to be done today. I glanced at the filing system. It hadn’t been looked at in a while and it always needed reorganizing. I grabbed my coffee and took it over to the filing cabinets, where I slowly began to work my way through the system. Sure enough, there were misfiles. Mine or Lucy’s? Probably both.

When Malcolm appeared twenty minutes later, he stepped out of the office alone.

His eyes warmed as they travelled over the length of me. I was wearing a black pencil skirt with a high waist and a pale pink silk blouse tucked into it. I wore black kitten heels so as not to tower over Mr Meikle. Malcolm sauntered over to me and I turned into him, not caring how unprofessional it was to let him kiss me. My lips tingled as he pulled back, his eyes drowsy with heat now. ‘We still on for shopping tomorrow?’

‘Of course.’

‘How about Saturday? Are you free? Becca wants to take us out to dinner as a thank-you to me for the gallery show and to you for getting Cam the job at the bar.’

I had to stop myself from tensing against him. ‘What? The four of us?’

Malcolm nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. ‘I could pick you up this time?’

I don’t think so. My throat almost closed up at the thought. Malcolm had never been to the flat. He’d never met Cole. And for now it would stay that way. ‘I can meet you there,’ I insisted.

He trailed his fingers down the thin fabric of my sleeve, as his lips curled in amusement. ‘I have to meet your family sometime, Jo.’

There was a part of me that was really happy that Malcolm was interested enough in me to want to meet my family, but there was this bigger part that wanted to erase all knowledge of London Road from his mind so he’d never be able to find the flat and my mum. Ever.

I feigned an enthusiastic smile. ‘Hmm. Soon.’

I didn’t know if he believed me or not, but he pressed a hard kiss to my lips that promised more of the same to come later and left me to the rest of my workday.

Cold latte in hand, I was still standing by the filing cabinets when Mr Meikle stepped out of his office minutes after Malcolm’s departure. I looked over at him warily. He just stared at me. Almost passively. Where was the glare?

Still staring.

Okay.

This is officially creepy.

Meikle cleared his throat. ‘I didn’t realize you were in a relationship with Malcolm Hendry.’

Oh, balls. Thank you, Malcolm! I cleared my own throat. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘For three months now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well.’ He shifted, looking decidedly uncomfortable. I couldn’t help my eyebrows as they rose to new heights. I’d never seen my boss as anything but self-assured and pompous. ‘Well, then. I, um, well, I, um, appreciate your professionalism.’

Hold the phone.

What?

‘Sir?’

He commenced with more throat clearing, his eyes shifting around, unable to meet mine directly. ‘Mr Hendry is an important client.’ As his meaning dawned on me, his gaze finally met mine. ‘You could have used that to make your position here more comfortable and you didn’t. I appreciate your professionalism and discretion.’

It was the first time Mr Meikle had rendered me speechless because of something positive he’d said to me. Usually, I was choking back irritation at his high-handed arrogance and condescension. It was also the first time my boss had ever looked at me without a grimace or pre-emptive disappointment, as though, no matter what, he knew I would never live up to his exacting standards. I’d grown used to that look, so it was strange to be on the receiving end of a compliment from him.

I eventually found my voice. ‘I like to keep my personal business just that, Mr Meikle. Personal.’

‘Yes, well, good for you.’ His eyes filled with irritation. ‘Lucy is always chattering on about that fiancé of hers. As if I have time to listen to such piffle.’ And with that he disappeared back into his office and I suddenly felt sorry for Lucy. Perhaps it was time to start leaving her smiley faces.

Cole had told me he had a presentation for English the next day, so I didn’t want to interrupt his work by asking him to make dinner. Instead, I texted him earlier in the day and told him I’d bring him home a bag of fish and chips. I got Mum a haggis supper just in case she felt like eating. I hurried home with the dinner since I’d bought it from a shop on Leith Walk and didn’t want it to get cold. As soon as I got in the door, I headed for the kitchen, switching on the kettle and pulling out plates.

Cole appeared in the doorway, his hungry eyes fixated on the fish and chips bag. ‘Can I help?’

‘Tell Mum I got her a haggis supper if she feels like coming out into the living room to eat with us.’

His eyes narrowed at my request, but he did as he was told. After that he sat himself down on the floor at the coffee table and waited for his food, switching the television to a comedy show.

I had just put the dinner out on the table, along with a glass of juice for Cole, tea for me, and water for Mum, when she appeared. The dark grey long johns she wore were actually loose on her, and she shuffled towards us as though she was in pain. She probably was.

She sat down on the edge of the couch, the bruised circles under her eyes so prominent I could barely take in anything else. She didn’t make a move for her food – she just looked at the plate with the battered haggis and chips on it. I pushed it towards her, chewing on a chip. ‘Dinner.’

At her grunt, I turned away and stared at the telly. My brother and I pretended to be watching the show, but I could tell by the stiffness of Cole’s body that he was just as hyperaware of Mum as I was.

Five minutes later the tension had only just begun to slowly drain from us as Mum managed to eat some of her food, even if it was at the pace of a moonwalker, when she ruined it.

Like always.

Focused now on the TV show, Cole had laughed at a joke and turned around to see if I was laughing too. He’d done this since he was a toddler. Anytime he found something funny, he’d look to me to make sure I found it just as amusing. I smiled at him as I always did.

‘Pfft.’

My muscles immediately grew rigid at the sound, as did Cole’s.

A ‘pfft’ from Mum was usually followed by something unpleasant.

‘Look at him,’ she sneered.

I was sitting on the floor like Cole, so I had to look over my shoulder to see what she was bitching about. My blood heated when I saw she was glaring at Cole.

‘Mum …’ I warned.

Her face scrunched up into a hateful, ugly expression. ‘Laughs like that fuckin useless bastard of a man.’

I shot a look at Cole and a burst of pain exploded in my chest at his downcast expression. He stared at the rug, as if trying to block her words out.

‘He’ll turn out just like his dad. A piece of shit. Looks just like him. A piece of –’

‘Shut up,’ I snapped, twisting around to face her, my eyes flashing furiously. ‘You can either sit here and finish your dinner in total silence or go back to your bed and drown yourself in drink. Either way, you keep your nasty, gin-soaked thoughts to yourself.’

Mum blustered incoherently and threw the plate on to our table, sending some errant chips flying. As she pushed herself up off the couch, she began muttering under her breath about ungrateful kids and no respect.

As soon as she had disappeared into her room, I let out a sigh of relief. ‘Cole, ignore her. You’re nothing like Dad.’

Cole shrugged, refusing to look at me, the colour on his cheeks high. ‘I wonder where he is.’

I shuddered at the thought of ever finding out. ‘I don’t care, as long as he’s far away from here.’

Later that night, after I’d cleaned up the flat, done the dishes and sprayed the sitting room and kitchen with air freshener to get rid of the fish-and-chips smell, I flopped down beside Cole on the couch. He’d finished his presentation and was now surrounded by pieces of a comic he was working on.

I handed him a mug of hot chocolate as I squeezed on to the other end of the couch, skirting his drawings. I squinted at a piece of paper that was upside down, trying to make out the image. ‘What’s this one about?’

Cole shrugged, his eyebrows drawn together. ‘Don’t know what’s happening with this one.’

‘Why not?’

‘Jamie and Alan were helping me with it, but …’

Uh-oh, the irritation in his voice did not sound good. ‘But … ?’ I frowned. Now that I thought about it, it had been a week since Cole had asked me if he could hang out at Jamie’s. ‘Have you two fallen out?’

‘Maybe.’ At least that’s what I thought his mumble translated into.

Oh, boy. Cole was a laid-back guy and a fight with his friends rarely happened, so I didn’t even know if I wanted to be made aware of why they were fighting. But it was Cole … ‘What happened?’

The blush on his cheeks made me even warier.

Oh, crap, this better not be teenage-boy gross. ‘Cole?’

He shrugged at me again.

‘That’s it. I’m getting you weights to wear on your shoulders so you can’t do that to me any more. I thought I told you shrugging does not equate to an answer. Neither does grunting.’

My brother rolled his eyes at me.

‘Or that.’

‘It doesn’t matter, all right?’ he bit out, flopping back against the couch to sip at the hot chocolate, refusing to meet my eyes.

‘It matters to me.’

His huge, long-suffering sigh could have filled up a hot-air balloon. ‘He just said something that pissed me off.’

‘Oi,’ I admonished. ‘Watch the language.’

‘He annoyed me.’

‘What did he say?’

The muscle in Cole’s jaw flexed and for a moment I could see him older, a man. My God, where had the time gone? ‘He said something about you.’

I winced. ‘Me?’

‘Yeah. Something sexual.’

Oh, Christ. I flinched. There were just some words you didn’t ever want to hear coming out of your baby brother’s mouth. ‘Sexual’ was definitely one of them. ‘Okay.’

Cole looked up at me from under his lashes, his mouth twisted into a frustrated grimace. ‘All my mates fancy you, but Jamie went too far.’

I did not want to know what that meant.

Instead I thought about how close the two of them were. ‘Did Jamie apologize once he realized he’d gone too far?’

‘Yeah, but that’s not the point.’

‘It is the point.’ I leaned forward so I could catch his gaze, so he could see how much I meant what I was about to say. ‘Life is too short to hold on to silly grudges. Jamie was man enough to apologize. Be man enough and gracious enough to accept the apology.’

For a moment he held my gaze, processing my advice. Finally he nodded. ‘Okay.’

I smiled and sat back. ‘Good.’

Once he’d turned his attention back to the comic, I reached for my latest paperback, readying myself to escape into someone else’s world for a while.

‘Jo?’

‘Mmm-hmm?’

‘I googled that guy you’re dating. Malcolm Hendry.’

My head snapped up from my book, my pulse racing a little faster all of a sudden. ‘Why?’

Cole shrugged. Again. ‘You haven’t said much about him.’ He scowled at me. ‘He’s a bit old, do you not think?’

‘Not really.’

‘He’s fifteen years older than you.’

I really didn’t want to be having this conversation with Cole of all people. ‘I like him a lot. You will too.’

Cole snorted. ‘Yeah, like I’m going to meet him. I met Callum only a handful of times and you dated him for two years.’

‘I don’t want to introduce you to someone who might not stick around. But I have a good feeling about Malcolm.’

His next question was asked softly but with a hint of disdain that shot me right in the heart. ‘Is it because he’s loaded?’

‘No,’ I answered tightly. ‘It’s not.’

‘You date a lot of wankers, Jo, and I know it’s because they’ve got money. You don’t have to.’ His face was starting to colour now with frustrated anger. ‘She makes you miserable enough – you don’t need to be going out with some tool just so we don’t have to worry about money. As soon as I turn sixteen I’m getting a job so I can help.’

I think it was the longest Cole had ever spoken in one sitting in about a year. And his declaration felt like a punch in the gut. I sat up straight, my own cheeks blazing hot with annoyance. ‘Don’t use the “w” word. And to answer your question, I’m dating a guy I really care about, and he just happens to have money. And you are not getting a job at sixteen. You’re finishing high school and you’re going to uni or art school or whatever the hell it is you want to do. But I’ll be damned if you end up in some crap job because you’re a bloody high school dropout!’ I was breathing hard with fear at the thought of it.

Cole stared at me, his green eyes round with astonishment at my outburst. ‘Jesus, chill, Jo. It was just an idea.’

‘It was a bad idea.’

‘Aye, I’m getting that.’

I relaxed at the teasing in his voice and leaned back into the couch, pulling my paperback up to my face. ‘Just draw, you pain in the ass.’

He choked back his laughter and put down his mug to start drawing again.

After a minute, I looked at him over the top of my book. ‘Just so you know … I love you, baby boy.’

‘Mmm-hmm, lu uu uu.’

I deduced that was ‘Mmm-hmm, love you too’ in teenage muttering.

My lips twitched against an answering grin, a warm contentment settling in my chest as I stared down at the pages of my book.

7

Even though it was the end of February, and March was but a day away, Edinburgh was still freezing. The frigid sea air rushed up towards New Town, blasting those who were unfortunate enough to find themselves walking north towards it, unprotected by the buildings.

Malcolm and I stayed out of the direct lambasting of icy wind as we strolled along George Street, going in and out of dress shops, and then down Frederick Street and on to the cobbled Rose Street, one of my favourite lanes in Edinburgh. It was packed with restaurants and pubs and boutiques, and we had lunch in a pub before carrying on to Harvey Nichols on St Andrew Square.

‘No, no, this is awful,’ I told Malcolm through the curtain of the changing cubicle. By this point I’d tried on at least fifteen dresses and neither of us could agree on one that we both liked. Becca was treating us to dinner at the Michelin Star restaurant Martin Wishart and Malcolm insisted on buying me something new to wear.

‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’ he asked, his voice coming closer to the curtain.

I couldn’t believe he wasn’t bored out of his mind yet, but he seemed to be pretty patient with shopping. In fact, I got the distinct impression he enjoyed it. Or at least, he enjoyed spoiling me … which was lovely.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I wrinkled my nose in distaste. The dress was so sheer you could almost see my nipples through it. Add the fact that it had a cut-out back and a short hemline and I might as well pin a piece of paper to my chest that said FOR SALE.

‘Let me see.’

‘No.’ i moved to hold the curtain closed, but i was too late.

Malcolm’s face appeared in the gap he’d created and his dark eyes glittered mischievously as they ran down the length of me and then came to rest on my chest. The mischief slowly disappeared and when he looked back up at me there was heat in his eyes. ‘If we weren’t in a changing room right now …’

I felt a niggle of something in my gut and wondered if it was disappointment. I imagined that if this was Joss and Braden or Adam and Ellie, it wouldn’t have mattered if they were in a changing room. Braden and Adam would have pounced on their girlfriends with no thought to the consequences.

I shook myself for those thoughts. So Malcolm and I didn’t have an all-encompassing passionate relationship. It didn’t mean what we had wasn’t great.

I forced myself to grin incredulously. ‘You think this is hot?’

‘For the bedroom, yes.’

‘I don’t think that was the intent here.’ I looked down at it dubiously.

‘Try on the green one. It’s the same colour as those gorgeous eyes of yours.’

I pressed my mouth to his lips for the compliment and let the curtain fall back so I was alone again in the cubicle.

He was right. The green shift dress by Lanvin was stunning.

Malcolm got a cab to a development site he wanted to visit, detouring to drop me off at home. He knew I wouldn’t invite him inside. I was all set for dinner with Becca and Cam on Saturday night. Well, ready in that I at least had designer armour to wear and Malcolm to act as a buffer.

Tonight at work there would be no designer armour and no Malcolm.

I despised the flurry of butterflies that awoke in my stomach at the thought of working with Cam and all the things he might say to damage my already fragile ego.

It seemed I still needed to grow a thicker skin.

There was a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my belly by the time I got to the bar and when I stepped into the main room and saw Cam and Joss laughing about something as they cleaned glasses, the butterflies swarmed upward to my chest and I couldn’t breathe for a moment.

What was that all about?

I took the stairs down to the bar and ducked under the counter, throwing a smile of hello their way before hurrying into the staff room. Two seconds later, Joss was at my back and the music on the stereo system blasted on. I heard Brian yelling at someone to turn it down and the noise muted to a bearable level.

‘What’s up? You looked like you had swallowed a very sour lemon when you came in just now,’ Joss observed.

I shrugged out of my jacket, smirking. ‘Did I? I can’t imagine why.’

‘You’re afraid I’m going to try and set you up with Cam.’

‘Am I? I can’t imagine why.’

Joss made a face. ‘Okay, enough with the sarcasm. Look. I’m not going to.’

I turned towards her, shoving my phone in my back pocket. ‘What? The matchmaking is over before it’s even really started?’

She clenched her jaw for a second before replying, ‘Yes. And that’s a promise.’

‘What brought on this change of heart? Not that I’m complaining,’ I hurried to assure her.

Completely deadpan and traumatized, Joss held my curious gaze. ‘Ellie made me watch an adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma so she could show me the dos and don’ts of matchmaking. This was followed by a redundant showing of the teen movie Clueless, which happens to be based on Jane Austen’s Emma.’ She let that sit with me, clearly urging me to find it as horrifying as she had.

I tried to stifle my laughter. I really did.

Just not hard enough.

I threw my head back, falling against my locker in a fit of giggles. I couldn’t get the image out of my head and I could just imagine how seriously Ellie had taken the whole thing. ‘Oh, my God,’ I gasped through my laughter. ‘That must have been so painful for you.’

Renewed excruciation flickered across her face as though she was having a flashback. ‘Painful does not even cover it. You know what’s worse than watching a romantic drama?’

‘No.’

‘Analysing one.’

Well, that set me off again.

‘Stop laughing. It’s not funny.’

‘Oh, it’s so funny. And just what you deserved.’

Joss groaned. ‘Yeah, probably.’

After I’d stemmed my laughter, I shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes. ‘I still can’t understand why someone who rolls her eyes at romance films is writing a romance novel.’

She glowered at me. ‘It’s not a romance. It’s my parents’ story.’

‘Yeah, your parents who had a flaming, passionate romance.’

Joss’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Do you want me to go back to matchmaking?’

I shuddered at the thought. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Be quiet, then.’

At her belligerent expression, I snorted. Clearly she was mad that her attempts to lead me from my ‘path of misery’ had failed so soon. ‘You know, if it makes you feel any better, I really do care about Malcolm. And I’m not actually miserable.’

Her eyes dimmed a little, any air of teasing between us dying out immediately. ‘My worry, Jo, is that you’re not happy either.’

For a moment, I felt breathless again. I stared over her shoulder at the wall where our shift schedule for the week was pinned to a notice board surrounded by staff memos, cocktail recipes and contact numbers. When I could breathe again, I dragged my gaze back to hers. ‘I know that Malcolm will make me happy.’

She threw me a look that clearly screamed, Are you serious? ‘How lukewarm of you. You’ve been together for over three months. I think you’d know by now whether or not you’re in love with him.’

I slammed my locker shut, preparing to go into the bar for opening. I thought about today in the changing room at Harvey Nichols and found myself getting defensive. ‘Look, not all relationships are like you and Braden, or Ellie and Adam. They aren’t all passionate sex and absolute adoration. Sometimes it’s slow and secure and warm. That doesn’t make it any less meaningful.’

Joss passed me, her nose wrinkled with irritation. ‘Slow, secure and warm? We’re not talking about an old guy in a Zimmer with a lap blanket. We’re talking about sex and love.’

‘Who’s talking about sex and love?’ Cam’s deep, raspy voice tugged at my lower belly.

As I stepped behind the bar, I couldn’t look at him.

I had hoped those last few times in his company were a complete anomaly, but it was clear they weren’t – my body seemed to vibrate and come to life around him, and I was beginning to feel guilty about my attraction towards him.

‘Jo and I were,’ Joss answered, her voice still gruff with frustration. She leaned back against the bar and stared at me, her expression unreadable in the dim light.

Cam raised an eyebrow, shooting me an equally unfathomable look. ‘Trouble in paradise?’

Since he hadn’t asked me with a sneer in his voice this time, I shook my head and deigned to answer him. ‘No, we’re fine. Joss is just having “a moment”.’

She grumbled under her breath, but customers started trickling in, and then pouring in, and soon we were too busy to have much of a conversation.

For the first two hours, I somehow miraculously managed to avoid Cam’s end of the bar. I worked at the opposite end and Joss worked in the middle. I chatted sporadically with her about nonsense anytime we were close enough to hear each other over the music. Braden, Ellie and Adam came in and took their usual table directly across from us so that Braden and Joss could screw each other with their eyes. I, on the other hand, did a good job of pretending that my entire body wasn’t aware of every single move Cam made, of every wicked smile he flashed at an attractive customer, at the way his jeans cupped his bite-worthy ass every time he bent over for something, or that when he reached up for a new bottle of Jack Daniel’s his T-shirt rode up to show a slab of taut abs.

It was just pure muscle under there.

I wondered what it would be like to have him stretched out naked on a bed, his hard body and golden skin laid out for me to savour. I would start with the sexy V cut of his hips, licking along the definition, pressing wet kisses up his sculpted torso, then flick his nipples and feel him harden against me –

‘Jo!’

I jolted out of my daydream, spilling the fresh orange juice I’d just taken out of the fridge. I gaped at Joss, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

She was gazing at me with a quizzical smile. ‘You were gone for a minute there. Where did you go?’

The red in my cheeks deepened and I cast a quick look at Cam, who was busy serving a customer. I was thankful for the low lighting that hid my cherry red cheeks, but unfortunately Joss must have caught the embarrassment in my eyes and the quick, not so surreptitious look I’d shot Cam. She glanced down the bar at him and then back at me. ‘Oh, okay.’ She grinned.

I groaned inwardly and turned back to serve my customer her Alabama Slammer.

Two minutes later the crowd around the bar started to wane. I was readying myself to be teased mercilessly by Joss when I heard her swear under her breath.

Snapping my eyes over at her, I saw the clench to her jaw and followed her narrow-eyed gaze across the bar. A curvy brunette had taken a seat next to Braden and engaged him in conversation. Braden didn’t look like he was being anything but polite, but the brunette was sitting awfully close to him. My eyes met Ellie’s and she threw me an ‘uh-oh’ look.

Joss was too classy to get into a bitch fight, especially with someone who was just sitting a little too close to her boyfriend. The girl would have to –

Oh, no. The brunette’s hand had landed on Braden’s thigh.

‘Be back in a second,’ Joss muttered furiously as she passed me.

She was too busy leaving the bar area with cool eyes and a burning rage to notice that Braden had already removed the woman’s hand from his thigh. I leaned against the bar with my elbows, settling in for the show. It was a shame I was too far away to hear Joss. She could flay someone alive with her words and do it with a great deal of self-possession. I was eternally envious of her ability to confront an aggressor without turning into a chalk-faced gibbering idiot.

A customer approached the bar, and I reluctantly drew my gaze away from the scene. As I was pouring the guy his whisky, Cam’s familiar and sexy scent infiltrated my olfactory senses and I could swear I swayed a little.