Page 26
“Are you okay if I have this before we drive back?”
“Of course! And actually, I brought along a few snacks for us.” I present the paper bag containing the pies I bought this morning.
“No way! Have you been to Morag’s Bakery? Jeez, lass, you’ve been here less than twenty-four hours, and you’ve already discovered our town’s secret weapon. What did you get?”
“A mac-and-cheese pie and—”
“Fuck, yes!”
I give Ally a look.
“Sorry, excuse my language.” He clears his throat and dips his chin. “I just really like mac-and-cheese pies.”
“Yeah, well, we can share that one because that’s what I wanted. Morag gave me the other pie on the house. I think it’s sweet chilli chickpea?”
“Hmm . . . that’s not exciting me as much as the mac and cheese.”
“I don’t care. You’re not getting the mac-and-cheese pie to yourself. We’re halving them.”
“Even after I took you down the river free of charge?” Ally gazes at me with wide eyes, the picture of innocence.
“Yep. And if the pies are bashed, blame yourself. Back at the hotel, you chucked my bag into the boot.”
“If I’d known there were goods from Morag’s Bakery in there, I’d have been more careful. Bashing Morag’s pies is practically sacrilege.”
I snort. “You’re really bigging up this food. Is it as good as you’re making out?”
“It is. At least, the mac-and-cheese pie is.”
“Right, let’s start with that one. I’ve no knife, so we’ll just have to take a few bites and then swap. Okay?”
“Fine. I’ve already kissed you, so it’s not like I’m worried about germs.”
“Seventeen years ago!” I protest. “You kissed me seventeen years ago, and it was an innocent childhood kiss.”
“Someone’s been counting. Seventeen years, eh? Do you know the number of days too? And the hours and minutes? Was I such a landmark occasion in your life that you track the time that’s passed since our lips touched?”
I glare at him. “When we were talking with Aidan earlier, it was you who said it had been seventeen years. As a punishment for trying to embarrass me, I’m going to eat all of this pie myself.”
“Don’t you fucking dare! Er . . . sorry again about the language, but seriously, don’t do that. I’ll be cross.”
Smirking, I bite into the pie.
“I’m being serious, Emily. Leave some of that for—”
He stops speaking when an involuntary groan escapes my lips, surprising even me. I can’t help it. The crispy, flaky pastry . . . the buttery creaminess . . . the nutty tang of the cheese . . .
Ally raises his brows.
“Sorry!” My cheeks burn. “I didn’t mean to make that noise, but this is . . . this is really good.”
“Aye. It is really good, which is why you’re going to leave some for me.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Hurriedly, I take another bite and, with a full mouth, gasp, “You have the chickpea pie. I’ll finish this one.”
“No chance.” Ally grabs a hold of my wrist.
Shocked, I watch as he guides the pie to his mouth and takes a huge bite. It’s his turn to groan, his eyes closing, his head falling back. His tongue flicks out to catch a few crumbs, as though he doesn’t want to waste even a bit.
