Page 83 of Replay
My watery eyes slide over to a tearful Freya, who’s full-on blubbering and using Jasper’s fur to dab at her tears. “Sorry, bleddy pregnancy hormones.”
I laugh and grab a napkin off the table, dabbing my twitchy nose. “What’s my excuse then?”
Freya smiles and cracks a joke. “Maybe this pregnancy stuff is catching.”
My eyes go wide, and I glance over at Santino, expecting to see him laughing along with all of us, but instead, I see a faint look of unease on his face that doesn’t sit well with me.
“What am I looking at right now?” Tilly’s voice echoes in the distance, tearing me out of a very relaxing moment.
Mac and I peel the cucumber slices off our eyes to see Tilly and Freya standing in the doorway that leads out to their back garden. They’re gaping at the two of us seated in the loungers beneath the cherry blossom tree like we’ve got two heads each.
“This is called a wee bit of self-care,” Mac says with a flourish as he sits back and returns the cucumber slices to his eyes.
“We only popped to the shop ten minutes ago.” Freya shifts a large salad in her hands and glances at Tilly. “Why have I come back to find my husband looking like Shrek?”
“It’s a green tea face mask,” I add helpfully, touching my jaw to find it’s dried nicely in the heat. “My nonna makes it from scratch. They sell it at their market in Bourton. I brought some for everyone if you like. It’s completely natural.”
Tilly barks out a laugh. “Our second double date with these two, and you’ve already started a bromance with my brother?”
I shrug. “I have a thing for redheads.”
Mac grumbles a warning tone under his mask, but he’s a lot less intimidating covered in green muck.
“I think I liked it better when Mac hated you,” Tilly says with a laugh.
Mac coyly lifts a cucumber off one eye. “I never hated him.”
“You did too.” I laugh heartily with a shake of my head.
“Okay, fine…but that’s because you looked at my wee sister like you wanted to eat her.”
My brows lift. “I still do that, mate.”
“Yes, but now I’ve got the cucumbers.” He taps his temple with his index finger and drops the vegetable back on his eye. “Plus, all my other mates are busy with football tonight. It’s nice to have a fellow nine-to-five working stiff to grab a pint with on Fridays after a long week’s work. So thanks for not being a complete twat, after all, Santino.”
I turn a cheeky smile over to Tilly. “If that’s not a glowing review, I don’t know what is.”
She lifts her hands. “By all means, let your freak flags fly.”
My brows furrow. “There is nothing freaky about a proper facial regimen.”
“Aye,” Mac says, blindly holding his beer bottle in my direction. I grab mine up off the side table and clink our glasses.
“You two were supposed to be tending the barbecue.” Freya shakes her head with exasperation and sets the salad on the table. “And those cucumbers were for our waters, Mac.”
“The steaks are resting, Cookie.” Mac sighs heavily. “Now come have a sit with me on this lounger and let Santino smear green shite on your face. It’s surprisingly pleasant. Though Santino, if this doesn’t come out of my beard, you and I are going to be in a very big fight.”
An hour later, we all discover that getting the mask out of Mac’s beard is a bit of a nightmare. But thankfully the girls’ giggles and quick problem-solving involving a facial steamer fixes everything, and my newfound friendship with Tilly’s brother seems to remain intact, which is really something.
If you’d have told me a couple of months ago that I’d be spending my Friday nights in Mac Logan’s garden wearing a green tea face mask and having barbecues with him, Freya, and Tilly, I’d have told you that you were completely mental. Yet here we all sit, like proper grown-ups celebrating another end of a grueling workweek.
It’s a welcome change of pace from the office, which was tense to say the least. Ever since that call from Zander Williams’ mother, I’ve been avoiding Vaughn Harris like the plague. I know I can’t tell him anything. I’m legally bound not to. But to kill a contract that’s right in the middle of negotiations for an incoming footballer is well above my pay grade. He’s supposed to be signing soon to come in a few months, which means I don’t have much time to figure this out.
The biggest issue I see right now is the fact that I’m certain Vaughn Harris would want to know he has a son. I realise there are loads of monsters out there who couldn’t give a toss about illegitimate offspring.My own past is a prime example of that.But that’s not Vaughn. Sure, he made some mistakes as a single father after his wife died, but he’s dedicated two decades of his life trying to make up for those missteps. And he’s doing a wonderful job, from what I can tell.
However, this isn’t my decision to make, so until I can get Jane Williams to phone me back to discuss this matter, it’s best to avoid any interactions with the Harris family.
Thankfully, forgetting about work is monumentally easier with Tilly Logan in my life. She is the most welcome distraction of all time. Not having to hide our relationship these past couple of weeks has felt like a strange dream that I never want to wake up from.
