I shake my head and grip my stomach.
Fern’s brow furrows. “Are you still feeling ill?”
I can’t shake the sick feeling, but despite that, I have a craving for pizza. “I’m fine.” Even though I’m not fine and every time I knock my tender breasts, I’m reminded of my secret and my situation.
“It didn’t feel like the doctor who broke in.” Whenever he’s on the ward, and his cologne invades my senses, my hairs stand up on end as if in warning. But the man who broke in had a completely different vibe. He had body odour and a gruff voice.Dr Fletcher is more refined. He’s more likely to inject me with a needle than slap me across the face. “It doesn’t make sense.”
Fern raises an eyebrow. “Tell that to Sergeant Sleuth up there.” She sets the wine down on the counter. “He had him up against the wall, threatening him.”
My pulse races, knowing he did that for me. I straighten my spine as he walks into the kitchen behind Harry. Our eyes lock, causing tingles to travel through my limbs.
His gaze travels south, parting his mouth as he takes in my cartoon pyjamas. I button up the long cardigan I threw on before stepping outside, only to cover the same cartoon pyjamas I wore for him on one of our first lives.
A knock at the door makes me jump.
“I’ll get it,” Fern says as Harry jumps up and down, shouting, “Pizza.”
Shane peeks through the curtain, his shoulders relaxing when he sees the delivery guy.
“Fern said you think the doctor broke into my house.”
“Yeah.” He rocks back on his heels, taking in the old painted kitchen doors now peeling.
“What makes you think that?” I tap my nails against the chipped worktop.
He runs a hand over his face. “Just a hunch. You said he was a creep.” His eyes bore into me with an intensity I recognise from our dance in the Black Crow.
I swear my nipples harden to bullets under his heated gaze. And don’t get me started on that uniform. My knickers dampen as the handcuffs hand on his duty belt, reminding me of what he’s done.
Fern ruins my fantasy as she cuts between us, three pizza boxes in hand and a bag of sides. “Dig in everyone. The pizza guy’s given us a free garlic bread.”
The aroma of hot food and pepperoni fills the kitchen, reminding me how hungry I am.
Harry squeezes in front of Shane and fills his plate to the brim.
“Harry, save some for everyone else,” Fern says as we all gather round the worktop.
I hand Shane a plate and give him a smile, then offer him his favourite pizza.
“Thanks,” he says as he takes two slices.
Harry darts away with his plate and sits at the kitchen table.
Fern and I sit down, and I pull the last chair out for Shane. It’s like old times when we all lived together, only now the energy and atmosphere is different.
Fern takes another gulp of her wine, almost finished with her large glass. “This is cosy and not awkward at all.”
A laugh bursts from my lips.
Shane clears his throat. “I can go.”
I place my hand on his knee under the table, my eyes pleading with him to stay. “She’s joking. You’re not going anywhere.” I’m surprised by the domineering tone that comes from my mouth.
Shane clears his throat. “Bodyguard duties are twenty quid an hour.” He smirks and shuffles in his seat with my palm still resting on his thigh.
I remove my hand. “I must owe you about two hundred already.” I bite into my lip, knowing it’s more like two grand.
“Mum?” Harry says with a mouthful of margarita pizza.
