Page 64 of Coming Home to Wishington Bay
‘I’m not but you basically made me eat cake for breakfast so I’ve warmed to you a little.’
‘Good. So you would have liked to have been ravaged by Gabe then?’
‘What?’
‘You just said you wouldn’t have been happy if I’d interrupted you, which implies—’
‘Nothing. It implies nothing. Can we have a new topic now? How’s the bump? Morning, Bump, by the way. Sorry I didn’t say that earlier. I was too busy trying not to throttle your mum for waking me up when I could have stayed asleep and been blissfully ignorant of this hangover.’
‘So where is he, then?’
‘I thought we were changing the subject.’
‘Nope.’
‘I don’t know.’ I craned my neck to glance at next door. ‘Not here, I guess. Although he did say he wasn’t working this morning so maybe he’s just out for a walk with Bryan, or gone surfing.’
‘Shame.’
‘I think that’s probably a good thing otherwise you’d be interrogating him too and my mortification would be complete.’
‘Oh pfft. You’re no fun.’
‘Thanks. Anyway. Do you want to come in and see what I’ve done so far?’
‘Ooh, yes.’ Carrie raised herself a little awkwardly and waddled in front of me into the house and began puffing slightly as she climbed the stairs.
‘You all right?’
‘Yeah, fine,’ she said, leading the way into the guest room that I’d made my home for the moment.
‘I’d apologise for the unmade bed but as it’s your fault I’m up before my body was anywhere near ready, I’m less bothered.’
Carrie shrugged. ‘Seems fair,’ she said, grabbing the other side of the duvet and helping me pull it up over the bed.
I leant over, smoothing the linen and positioning the day pillows before grabbing the cushions I’d bought in the village on the bed.
‘Wow!’
‘Do you like it?’ I asked, using the wardrobe door as a bit of a modesty screen to get dressed behind as Carrie sank into the pale sage velvet, squashy armchair I’d moved across the room and now positioned by the window to take advantage of the fantastic view. It was a little worn, like a lot of things, but it was on my list to have re-covered in a similar fabric.
‘I love it. I love this chair here too,’ she said, poking her hand through the soft, flowing curtains to get a better look. ‘Such a gorgeous view.’
‘Isn’t it? I really do love it.’
‘Do you now?’
‘Of course! I thought you knew that by— Oh!’
Carrie was grinning as she waggled her eyebrows at the view I’d just proclaimed my love for. The sweeping vista of beach now had an extra addition. Gabe was striding up the beach, his body glistening with sea water, the black swim shorts he wore clinging damply to his legs as Bryan scooted around him in circles. He had his head down, laughing at his dog as Carrie and I watched him walk up the beach towards the house.
‘I’ll make myself scarce. Nothing like a pregnant gooseberry to spoil the fun.’
I rolled my eyes as I helped her out of the chair. ‘There’s no fun to spoil, and you’re more than welcome to stay.’
‘Holly,’ she said, retaining my hand. ‘There’s a whole lot of fun out there. You just have to open yourself up to having some.’
‘I have plenty of fun!’ The blush I felt creeping on my chest and neck was threatening to hint that I may just be telling a porker, but I stood my ground.
