Dad chuckled. ‘Trust me, lass, he can’t stop talking about you.’
I held up my hands. ‘Okay, the ground clearly isn’t listening to my plea and swallowing me whole, so let’s put a pin in this conversation, shall we?’
Rosie threaded her arm into my dad’s, like they’d been best friends for years. He was still several inches taller than her and the grin that spread over his face matched the mischief on hers. ‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s so much fun watching you blush.’
My gaze was steady as I stared at her. Conveying all the ways that I would most definitely pay her back for that comment. My cock jolted as the only ways that sprung to mind were all filthy. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, reading exactly where my mind had travelled.
When my dad cleared his throat, splashing some much needed cold water on our eye-fucking, Rosie’s smiled faded.
‘Don’t mind me,’ he said with a grin.
‘You told me to meet you here, remember?’ she said. ‘I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I’d completely forgotten that I’d scheduled another date. We’d organised it over text a couple of days ago. In an effort to show Rosie that some romantic gestures weren’t all vomit inducing, I’d decided to take her on a picnic. And it gave me the opportunity to feed her something other than the cardboard noodles she insistedon eating. I pulled out my phone and sure enough, the phone calls I’d thought were from my brother, had been from her.
‘Fuck, I’m sorry. I forgot.’
A thin smile stretched on her closed lips. ‘Doesn’t matter. I’ll head back to work.’
Yes, it didn’t matter, a great fucking deal.
‘Where were you two off to then? If my dear son hadn’t had a lapse in his memory.’
‘Lunch,’ I said, not wanting to divulge all the romantic shit I had planned in front of my dad. Rosie’s smile stayed forced.
‘Well,’ Dad started, fixing me with a sharp stare. ‘Why don’t I be incredibly forward and suggest we all go to lunch?’
This is not how I saw today going. My mouth opened. ‘Um?—’
‘That’s a great plan,’ Rosie said, cutting me off and squaring her shoulders. That glint in her eye was back. ‘How many stories about George do you think you can tell me in one hour?’
I glowered, earning me a wry smile from the blonde pixie clutching my dad’s jacket.
He chuckled, enjoying my discomfort. ‘Oh, a fair few. There’s one involving a sock that I found on his bedside table?—’
‘Dad! I swear to God.’ I held up a finger.
He stared at me, the picture of innocence.
Rosie tugged on dad’s arm. ‘Okay, this is a story I need to hear.’ She winked, and the two sauntered off to the entrance, leaving me staring after them.
18
I seta mug of coffee in front of Jean, pulling out the office chair beside her and sank down into it.
‘Two sugars?’ she asked, picking it up and giving it a suspicious sniff.
‘And two teaspoons of milk.’ She took a sip, her lips turned up in a satisfied smile. ‘Thank you, dear.’
My mug of black coffee cupped between my palms, I propped my feet up on the reception desk, ignoring the scolding tut Jean gave me, and let out a long sigh. It was Tuesday night. The clinic was already closed up for the evening. Nearly everyone had gone home apart from Jean, who stayed later to finish up some paperwork and organise the client schedule for the following day, and Lawrence. He was holed up in his office doing the budget.
And I was on the night shift.
Rain came down in a steady shower, hammering against the window in a soothing rhythm. I loved storms and from the looks of it; it was gearing up to be a good one.
I picked up my phone when it buzzed, my heart picking up speed until I saw it was Fallon. She was reminding meabout the weekend—for the fourth time this week. Clearly, she hadn’t quite forgiven me for forgetting about her plans.
A part of me secretly hoped that George was the one texting me. Yesterday, I had lunch with him and his dad in one of the most surreal moments of my life. Peter Blake, as it turned out, was hilarious. We all walked over to a local cafe and as we ate, he recounted several stories of George and Oliver as children. Each one turned his son a different shade of crimson. I hadn’t smiled that much in a long time. By the time my lunch break ended, Peter drew me in for the biggest hug, saying how much he loved getting to know me. I pulled away quickly, feeling the backs of my eyelids grow hot.
