“Don’t tell me who you want to murder. I’d prefer not to be an accessory.”
“When I only have one ex-husband?” Peeling off the lid of her cup, she raises it to her lips. “You must be excited about moving into your own place. Another week or two, I think Ally said.”
“Yes, she did.” Although, Ally, Beth’s sister, also my new landlord, seems to be dragging her feet. “She says she wants to get the place painted beforehand. Which is lovely but unnecessary.”
“What can I say? Ally is type A, plus a little OCD, plus a few other things no medication will ever help.’
“I must say she doesn’t seem very excited about moving in with her boyfriend.” More stressed. Which makes me feel slightly worried when I choose to think about it because I really do have to move out of Carson’s place. That’s Carson, the man in love with Rose. I push away the thought, still not entirely convinced it’s true. But something is keeping him away. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just work.
“Our parents aren’t exactly impressed, either.”
“They don’t like him?”
“They think he’s not good enough, that he doesn’t treat her like she deserves. That he doesn’t earn enough. You know what parents are like.”
“Not really. I think my parents would be happy to give me away at this point. They’d probably even chuck in a bit of cash to seal the deal. Unwed mothers aren’t really the done thing in our family,” I say with a short shrug.
“Do you have siblings?”
I nod, then wince as I scald my lips on the tea. “A younger brother. The apple of their eye. Well, apart from Lulu, that is.” I’m probably painting a much blacker picture than the reality. My parents love me, and they dote on Lu. They’d just prefer for me to settle down. Preferably in a house on the same street as them. Which is never happening. I mean, I love them, but I can love them better from a distance, I think.
“I’ll bet little Lulu charms everyone.”
“When inclined.” And when she isn’t, heaven help us all.
“I’m so happy you’re pleased with the apartment.” She hooks her hand through the crook of my arm, giving it a little squeeze.
“Oh, I am. And I’m so grateful for your help.”
“I can’t think why I didn’t mention it weeks ago. I guess I just thought you wouldn’t really want to move out of a 5th Avenue apartment. I mean, who would want to leave an address like that?”
“It was only ever meant to be temporary.” I angle my gaze away. Whatever Carson’s deal is, I can’t afford to lose my heart, or my knickers, to someone like him.
Especially if he’s still pining for Rose.
“You didn’t . . . you know, do the guy who owns it? And that’s why—”
“No!” My steps slow as I pull my arm from hers. “Why would you even ask that?”
Incredulous much?
Also, methinks the lady doth protest a little too vigorously to sound convincing.
“Maybe because I’m having a dry spell?” She holds her hand up, palms to the sky as she shrugs, though she doesn’t appear at all uncomfortable. “It’s like that point in a diet where everything sounds tasty.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I begin to move again, charging on ahead as I tell myself I’m not lying. Technically, at least. Beth trots behind me for a couple of steps before her hand slides through my arm again.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” My words seem stiff though I don’t mean them to be. I’m just not comfortable lying. Bloody Catholic guilt. I’m still a big old liar pants. I might not have had sex with him recently, but I do have carnal knowledge of the man.
Perfectly wonderful, sensual carnal knowledge. Urgh!
“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing?”
It takes me a moment to realise we’re looking in the window of a boutique as my thoughts linger elsewhere. No, actually, it’s a lingerie store. “Oh, yes. It’s lovely,” I answer, intuiting she’s lusting over a nightdress, a delicate gauzy thing that’s so transparent the silver mannequin beneath is completely visible. Tipping my wrist, I glance down at my watch. “Do you want to go in and have a mooch? A look, I mean?”
“A girl would only wear that to bed if she had a man to help her out of it.”
“I don’t think that has to be true, does it?”
“You’re telling me you’d wear that for bed on a regular old Tuesday night?”
“Well, no. Not me.” I shake my head. “But that’s because I’m more a shorts and T-shirt kind of girl.” Fluffy socks, too. My nightwear is strictly PG, and some of it is even available in kiddie sizes. Not that any of this seemed to bother Carson. Rose said he can be uncivil, and that made no sense to me. Though in hindsight, he did stare at my pajama-clad legs a little uncivilly. And the way his cock felt under me was downright rude.