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The Geography of Happiness

Page 77

by Jay Hogan

Terry watched me with wary eyes, taking his time to respond. Finally he sighed and said, “Then we won’t.”

I nodded. “I can live with that.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he poked me in the chest. “But right now we need to get dressed and respectable in case I’m needed, and I for one need a hot drink.” He pushed me aside to get up from the couch. “So, how about I make us some tea and you can tell me all aboutyoursex life since I’ve had to fess up about mine.”

My brows crunched in disbelief. “Tea?” I checked the time on his phone. “It’s almost midnight.”

Terry tut-tutted. “It’s never too late for tea.”

I blinked. “I don’t even think I have tea in the house.”

He regarded me askance. “Well, we definitely can’t be friends then.”

“You wish. How about coffee? You drink that too, right?”

Terry gave a disdainful snort. “Not at midnight I don’t.”

I scowled and shot to my feet, elbowing Terry aside so I could get to my jeans and shirt. “I must have something in there that will do. Come on, Mister Particular.”

We made our way to the kitchen where I pulled open the pantry to scan the shelves. “How about a beer? I have plenty of that.” My hopeful suggestion earned another mocking chuckle.

“Nope. I want my wits about me when I hear the unabridged version of your love life,” Terry explained. “Confessions of a Mackenzie Vet. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

I gave a painful groan. “Fucking hell. For a four-day-old friend, you sure expect a lot. I’m going off you real fast.”

He snorted happily. “Just find me some tea.Everyonekeeps at least one packet for visitors just in case, right?”

I turned a blank face his way. “Cue the aforementioned conversation where I said that I don’t encourage visitors. And before you ask, my hookups rarely stay past an invitation to an encore orgasm in the morning, if they’re lucky, before I send them on their way.”

Terry’s cheeks blew beetroot and he flustered. “You said that on purpose.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. “Maybe.”

He narrowed his gaze, those blue eyes flinty sharp. “Arsehole.”

“Never denied it—oh, looky here.” I held aloft a packet of turmeric and ginger tea. “Bingo.”

Terry snatched the packet out of my hands for a closer look. “Good Lord. What hellish concoction is this? I said tea. As in... you know...tea.” He waved his hand around adorably.

I read over his shoulder. “Itistea. It says so rightthere.” I pointed to the word.

Terry rolled his eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

I closed the pantry and leaned against the door. “I think Sonja gave it to me one Christmas as a gag gift.”

Terry shot me a look. “We’ll be lucky if we’re not gagging after the first sip. Go on, get me some mugs while I shake the dust off the packet. It won’t kill us to at least give it a try. Broadening my horizons, right?”

I laughed. “The beer thing is still a viable option.”

He sent me a scathing look. “Mugs. I’m waiting.”

I saluted. “You’re a bossy little shit.”

He grinned. “You have no idea. Another reason we’re better as friends.”

I slid two mugs along the countertop and Terry added boiling water and a couple of tea bags. The water turned an uninviting murky brown and I suppressed a shudder.

“If I have to drink this piss-water, I’m gonna damn well do it in comfort.” I took the mug and led Terry back into the lounge where I made myself comfortable on the cream sofa.