Christmas Ever After (Puffin Island 3)

“Good point.” Brittany snapped another piece of chocolate. “You need to audition people.”

“Just as long as she doesn’t fall for Alec.” Emily walked to the door. “I need to tell them to make me decaf or I’m going to be awake all night. Anyone else? Brit?”

“I don’t want decaf. In fact I need double strength. And of course she isn’t going to fall for Alec. The two of them are so different I’m amazed they made it to the bedroom in the first place.”

“Why do you need strong coffee? Aren’t you sleeping? Is something wrong?” Emily asked.

“She’s being kept awake by Zach’s magic wizarding wand.” Sky leaned across and helped herself to some of the chocolate. She didn’t contradict Brittany. Why would she? She was right. There was no way she’d fall for Alec. “Go and look for them, Em.”

What were they talking about in the kitchen?

Were Zach and Ryan grilling Alec? No, Zach wouldn’t be interested in the details, but Ryan had an almost pathological need to uncover facts.

Brittany curled her legs under her. “You still haven’t told us how the two of you got from angry vertical to passionate horizontal.”

Emily paused with her hand on the door. “Perhaps she doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, she’s going to talk about it. We made that promise, remember? We’re here for each other, no matter what. That means I get to hear the juicy bits.”

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; “We had sex, that’s all.”

“And he invited you back here. So either the sex is really, really good,” Brittany said slowly, “or the Shipwreck Hunter really, really likes you.”

Sky thought about how withdrawn and remote he’d been earlier. “Or maybe he issued the invitation on impulse—”

“Thinking with his magic—”

“Yes, that.”

And she wondered if they’d been hasty. “If this doesn’t work out—if something goes wrong, can I stay with you?”

“You don’t even need to ask.” Brittany frowned. “Of course you can stay with us. No biggie. And talking of biggies …”

Emily rolled her eyes and left the room.

CHAPTER TWELVE

ALEC WOKE TO find himself lying in a wash of winter sunshine.

He didn’t need to check his watch to know it was late. That was the price he paid for pulling a night shift.

He’d waited until Sky had fallen asleep, then gently disentangled himself from the strands of her hair that wound themselves round him like silken threads and retreated to his study where he’d worked until 4:00 a.m. He hadn’t made the progress he’d been hoping for and all he wanted was a whole day uninterrupted at his computer with nothing for company but a giant flask of strong coffee.

Unfortunately there was no chance of that.

Sky had no doubt been up for hours already and was probably bored out of her mind.

He took a quick shower, pulled on some clothes and went in search of her, weighed down by a sense of obligation.

What had seemed like a good idea in London now seemed like the worst idea he’d ever had.

Except for marriage.

That one topped the list and always would.

A glance through the window showed him a menacing gray sky and a sea that bounced and danced in the freezing wind, like a puppet being manipulated by a higher force.