Page 57 of The Christmas Catch
Fuck. In all the mayhem, she hadn’t expected anything to happen. For any feelings to be involved. But she was moving to New York next month. That was an irrefutable fact.
“But what if she doesn’t want to have sex?”
“Then she’ll tell you.”
“And what if we do? What happens afterwards? Should I tell her I’m leaving?”
Even worse, what happened if it was good—great, even—but that’s where Morgan wanted to leave it? Ali knew it couldn’t go anywhere because of her job, but she wanted it to be on her terms. Putting herself out there made her vulnerable. Morgan Scott might stamp on her heart. She wasn’t sure she could take that.
“For once in your life, Ali, take a chance. Just do it, sod the consequences. Go with your heart. Sort everything else out afterwards. What would your teenage self say?”
Ali conjured an image of her younger self in her mind. “Her mind would be blown.”
“There’s a joke in there, but I’m not sure it works for lesbians,” he replied.
She had to smile.
“Just fuck her, Ali.”
She heard Snowy meow in the background.
“Snowy agrees with me. If nothing else, do it to make yourself smile. Do it for the moment. If it all goes tits up, at least you’ll have a night to remember.”
CHAPTER19
Morgan sat back and rubbed her stomach. “That was delicious. Thank you so much, you’re both life-savers.” She picked a crumb of garlic bread from her jeans—strictly speaking, Helen’s jeans—and slipped it into her mouth. “I can’t believe you made that pasta from scratch, too.”
“I enjoy doing it.” Helen’s husband Jamie—a 6-foot rugby type who’d made the divine carbonara they’d just devoured—took a sip of his wine. “Helen bought me a pasta-making course for Christmas last year, and now I see the method behind her cunning plan.”
“I bought it because you love cooking, dear husband.” She gave him a wink.
Next to Morgan, Ali’s cheeks had a tell-tale Rioja glow, her chestnut hair back to normal, frost-free and styled thanks to products provided by their hosts. Ali had showered right after Morgan, and then, as if they were staying in some five-star hotel with a laundry service, Helen had collected their clothes and chucked them in the wash. She’d also given them some old jeans and a couple of sweatshirts to wear while their clothes dried. Helen claimed everything they were wearing was destined for the charity shop. Morgan wondered if there was a way she could smuggle the lot back to Devon. Yes, the jeans were a little tight, but Helen had impeccable taste.
“What are your plans for Christmas?” Ali asked Jamie.
“The last guests check out tomorrow, my parents arrive tomorrow night, and then we’re having Christmas dinner down the road at The Black Bear. When you’ve catered for guests the whole year round, a holiday is someone else cooking and washing up for you.”
“We’re definitely on washing up duty tonight,” Ali added.
Jamie shook his head. “Nonsense. Take your drinks through to the lounge and I’ll clear up while you catch up. I’ll bring dessert through when I’m done.”
Helen was up in a flash. “Let’s go before he changes his mind.” She gave him a wink, and Jamie rolled his eyes. She followed it up with a kiss and led the way through to the lounge.
Morgan loved how easy Helen and Jamie were. The relaxed banter, the loving looks, the way they worked seamlessly together as a couple. It was what she wanted for herself. What her parents and her sister had in their relationships. None of them could quite understand why Morgan didn’t have it, either. It was a puzzle that Morgan herself had yet to work out. However, being in this cosy, warm environment made her want it even more. Perhaps there was more to life than work. This couple worked hard, but they did it together, and saw each other all the time. It had been the main gripe of all Morgan’s previous relationships that she always put her work first. The trouble was, she hadn’t met anyone in the past couple of years that made her want to change that.
In the lounge, Helen squatted and opened the small door on the log burner. She grabbed some logs from the wooden box to her right and stacked them neatly.
“Please, sit,” she said, indicating the large squishy sofa on the left.
Ali made an ‘after you’ gesture with her arm, squeezing Morgan’s own as she walked past.
Warmth rolled through Morgan at Ali’s touch. Yes, it had been a while since she had a connection with a woman, but in less than 48 hours, Ali had staked her claim. But Morgan wasn’t about to go there. She didn’t have the brain space, especially not after pasta and wine. Right now, she wanted to sit and relax for the first time in the past two days. Jamie was driving them to their car in the morning. The hire company was sending a replacement. Whisper it, but it looked like they might finally get home for Christmas.
“You’ve no idea how amazing it is to have a good meal and to sit on a couch, so thank you again.” Morgan paused. “You said you didn’t live in Devon when you were younger. Did you and Ali see a lot of each other growing up?”
Helen put some kindling between the logs, added a few twigs and small pieces of wood, then lit a long match.
They all watched the fire catch, and Helen blew on it before closing the door. “We’ll add a couple more logs when it gets going.” For now, it was down to the flames and heat to work their magic.
