Page 59 of The Christmas Catch
Oh god, make it stop. Somebody put a plug in my mouth.
But no, Morgan wasn’t done. “More, we’ve had a drink, said hi. Whenever I see Ali, she’s behind the bar or in the pub. We’ve never really had a conversation on our own, have we?”
As soon as Morgan said it, she realised how stupid that was. All these wasted years, when actually, they got on. They coped together in a crisis. Plus, Ali was kind, resourceful, hot. Why had she never seen that before? Because she’d never looked. That was the stupidest thing of all. But she was looking now, and Morgan liked what she saw.
Ali shook her head, a sad look in her eye. “You were always Nicole’s friend. I was the kid sister. We had our roles.”
A silence descended on the room as everyone digested that.
“But now?”
Helen’s question was cut off as Jamie walked in with a tray of Bailey’s and a round of homemade tiramisu in individual glass dishes. “I was up at the crack of dawn making these, so I hope you enjoy, ladies.” He put the tray on the coffee table with the precision of a gymnast. “Now, what or who were we talking about?”
“We were just discussing how Ali and Morgan are definitely not a couple.” Helen could barely contain her smirk.
Jamie sat beside his wife and cast his gaze on the two of them. “Aren’t you?” he asked.
CHAPTER20
One Bailey’s had turned into two, and then into cheese and port, and before she knew it, they were playing a card game with no boundaries, and sharing another bottle of red. By the time they tripped up the stairs to bed, it was gone midnight, and they had to be up at eight to get going.
However, it had all been worth it. Ali loved Helen and Jamie, and it had been fabulous to finally relax after two days of what-the-fuck. She’d probably have said no to that last glass of wine if she was at home or in a normal situation. But she wasn’t. Accepting that last glass of wine meant she had another half hour delay to the inevitable moment of going to bed with Morgan. It also meant she had another layer of liquid confidence to take with her. In the morning, she’d think that was a mistake.
But tonight, it was everything.
Ali rolled over in the bed. Her phone was on the side table. She picked it up. There was a message from Tobias that simply said, ‘Don’t overthink it.’ Easy for him to say.
She also had one from Nicole. ‘Is there something going on that you need to tell me?’ Ali’s heart flipped. The family inquisition was going to be worse than anything the Spanish had ever faced. For now, though, she tuned that out and focused on what Tobias had said.
In the guest bathroom, she heard the light go off, then the bedroom door open.
Then there was Morgan.
Every delicious ounce of her.
Ali gulped, suddenly overcome with nerves. This wasn’t a sure thing, but then again, she felt like it was the surest thing ever.
They hadn’t had a date. They’d just had a single dreamy kiss in the snow, on a Ferris wheel. Where the stars had aligned and the world had seemed brighter. Time had stood still. Possibilities seemed endless. But she had no idea where they were with each other. This was the first time they’d had alone since that kiss. And now, they were about to sleep in the same bed again.
Maybe Morgan would get in and they’d go right to sleep. She’d be absolutely fine with that. They had a big day tomorrow, and getting home in time for Christmas was the most important thing. Plus, there was New York.
And yet somehow, in the past 48 hours, Morgan had crept onto her list of most important things, too.
What had Tobias told her? ‘Don’t overthink it. Live in the moment.’
Easy for him to say, sat at home vogueing with her cat.
Morgan clearing her throat made Ali look up.
“We meet again.” Could she have come up with a dumber line? She didn’t think so. Even though Ali had known Morgan’s emergence was imminent, she wasn’t ready.
She had to remind herself to breathe.
Morgan gave her a shy smile, then put the clothes she was holding on the chair by the dressing table, neatly folded. Morgan was a neat person. After 48 hours together, Ali knew this already. She glanced at her clothes, thrown on the floor. Morgan would have to take her as she was. There was no masking the truth on this trip.
Ali tracked Morgan’s path to the bed, her legs long and lean, her stomach flat. She wore black knickers and a black T-shirt (courtesy of Helen). A tickertape ran through Ali’s mind: ‘What’s underneath???’
When Morgan slipped under the covers, Ali took a sharp intake of breath.
