Page 83 of Short Stack 3

“You’re going towhat?”

“I’ve decided we should have some us time, so I’m booking a room because it’s going to benakedus time.”

“But it’s two in the afternoon.” The fact that I sound so scandalised is incredible after everything we’ve done together.

He chuckles. “That leaves me the whole afternoon and evening to really examine that tattoo, my love. I’m going to beverythorough, and I simply can’t do that at the office.”

I swallow hard as we arrive at the desk. “I’m not sure why,” I whisper. “You managed to examine my bottom very intently yesterday in your office.”

“What can I say? You’re my favourite subject.”

He grins at me, and it’s such a wicked and warm smile that I feel my heart flutter.

The receptionist turns to us, and I stand back as Jed quickly deals with the room booking.

“Shall I get someone to take your luggage?” she asks.

Jed smiles at her. “Thank you, but there’s no need. We don’t have any.”

She blinks but then blandly continues checking us in while I try not to blush.

When she’s finished scanning his credit card, Jed takes the key card she hands him and steers me towards the lifts.

“This is a very expensive interlude,” I observe.

He laughs as he kisses my cheek. “I’m pretty sure you’re worth it.”

“I’m not sure how we can put it on expenses.”

“I invite you to get creative, darling.”

I look around, wondering if everyone can tell we’re heading off for a spot of afternoon delight. The thought is surprisingly thrilling, and I stand a little straighter.

“I think we should make a habit of this,” Jed says, his hand gentle on my back, taking care not to touch my tattoo.

“Playing hooky from work?”

He shrugs. “You can say that. I call it making time for each other because you’re the most important person in my world.”

“How do you always say the right thing?”

“It’s my superpower. I combine it with not putting my shoes away so you don’t get too complacent.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

The lift’s doors open, and laughing, he follows me in. I lean against him, looking at our reflections in the lift’s mirrored wall. I nestle my head into his neck, feeling him drop a tender kiss on my hair. We look like we belong together. I smile, seeing the happiness in the face of my reflection. That’s because we do.

Bee and Tom

On Circus Lane

Sunday Football

This short story was written for my newsletter subscribers. It’s set before the epilogue ofOn Circus Lane, and Tom references it in the epilogue.

Bee

I wake up to rain pattering on the windowpane. It’s a lovely, cosy sound when you’re curled under a heavy duvet, and even better when you have the hot length of Tom Wright’s body blanketing you all over.

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