‘No. Not gay, Barb. Just choosy. And yes, I do have a man.’ My words are overtly careless but pink rises in my cheeks anyway. ‘And I might just bring him along to the opening. I’ll get back to you on that.’
But even as the words left my mouth, I was mentally talking myself out of them.
Chapter Twenty-Four
DAN
‘But darling, you’re just so good.’ Belle sucks in her lower lip for a second, releasing it pink and wet. As I turn, I can feel her eyes on my arse.
I pause for a beat but don’t halt my task, the top rack of the dishwasher almost empty now.
‘Go home, Belle.’
‘Do you remember when—’
I glance down at the wooden spoon in my hand, remembering how the shape of it had stayed on her pale skin for almost a week that first time.
‘No.’ Not if I can help it, I don’t.
Sliding the offending item into the drawer, I frown as I also remember reassuring Louise that I’d purged the house after Belle.
It’s just a spoon, for fuck’s sakes, I think, slamming the drawer closed.
‘Not even for old times?’ Not a question I can answer. ‘Where did it all go so wrong, Danny?’ Not an answer I would know where to begin.
Straightening, I run a distracted hand through my hair. ‘There are no good memories, Annabelle.’ I chuckle humourlessly. It feels alien. ‘All were obliterated the moment I found you fucking someone else in our bed. But if you’re looking for a reason, perhaps you could start there.’
‘Maybe if I’d known you’d feel so passionately about it—damn it! Did you ever stop to think why?’
‘A million times!’ I yell back, finding her fragile shoulders in my hand. ‘A million fucking times.’
I push a lock of hair behind her ear, bending my face towards hers. Tiny any day of the week, she wasn’t wearing shoes. But I’m not a fool. Not these days, anyway. She’s obviously hoping to remind me of how small she is. How malleable she could be in my hands.Like old times. Easy to fuck against the wall, her whole weight balanced on my hips or forearms. Easy to bend into all kinds of shapes.
I sense rather than hear her sharp intake of breath as my mouth came down on the crown of her head. I place my lips there. Hardly a kiss. More something to stop me from shouting again.
‘A million times,’ I repeat softly as I pull away. ‘But not anymore.’
My phone skitters suddenly across the butcher block, Belle reaching it before I can get to it. She prods the screen.
‘The code is still our anniversary.’ Her voice sounds like triumph, eyes gleaming with, could it be, unshed tears?
‘Give it to me.’ I hold out my hand, my words not a request, my molars feeling the brunt of this.
‘Why? What are you going to do about it?’ Belle purrs, sliding along the row of cupboards, hands trailing the worktops as I follow suit. ‘You’ll have to catch me if you want it back.’ She feints left and slides under my arm, her pealing laughter following her along the hallway.
I move to follow her, muttering a hard‘fuck’as I recognised the light pitter-pat of her feet on the stairs.
In the bedroom, Belle prowls along the far side of the bed, sunlight catching the highlights on her expensively coloured head.
‘The text says she wants you to help prove to her colleagues that she’s not gay. I wouldn’t have thought desk fucking with an audience was your thing, darling. What happened tothere’s a time and a place for everything?’ She mimics me with a bass tone. ‘But maybe you’ve changed. Maybe you’ve learned to accept some people just desire being the centre of everyone’s attention.’ Despite her nervous giggles, there’s an edge of accusation there.
‘Give me the phone, Belle.’
‘Why don’t you make me?’comes her sultry return.
So I did. Reaching for her as she allowed me to. I throw her against the mattress, a breast heaving, eye-shining mess. Her dress wraps her waist, deep pink silk lingerie on view.
‘They’re new.’ There was an almost breathless quality to her words, her fingers dancing tantalisingly across the soft material.
