Page 93 of Scotch on the Rocks

“Were you?”

“No!I bloody hate it.” She rubbed at her temples.

Laughing – I was doing that a lot these days – I lifted her by the hips – something I’d discovered she loved because it made her feel delicate – and set her down on the counter amongst the condiments. Like this, she was a head taller than me. “Then don’t cook. We’ll order pizza.”

Not needing to be told twice, she pulled up the only pizza place in the village on her phone. “Where did you learn to cook, anyway?”

“The army, they train you to be pretty self-sufficient. Not the … what was it you called me?A man baby who hires help to do their laundry.”

“That was like, seven years ago. I can’t believe you remember that.”

I pinched her waist. “I remember everything you say.”

Her dark eyes scanned my face, weighing the words. When she didn’t say anything, I brushed a finger along the crease of her elbow, frowning at the fresh welt from Shakespeare. “Did you wash this out?”

She nodded as I pressed my lips to the sore spot. Her hand raked into my hair, so fucking tender, I swore I’d spent the last weeks in the twilight zone. That was the only explanation. No one got this lucky.

Planting a hand on the counter, I noticed a pile of haphazardly stacked books. Expecting cookery recipes, I slid the spines to face me.

The Truth About Dementia

What No One Tells You About Dementia

How to Support a Caregiver

I read the titles three times, feeling like someone just punched a hole through my chest. “Where did you get these?”

“The library.”

“Why?” Deep down, I think I knew why. I needed to hear it anyway.

Her eyes bounced between mine, evaluating the precipice her next words might pitch her over. “Because I want to be there for you.”

What else was there to say?

I spoke my thanks onto her lips, making certain she tasted every shred of gratitude before I dipped to her jaw. Her throat. I couldn’t resist hiking her T-shirt up and pressingmy lips to the curling tattoo on her rib cage.Too good for me,I thought,Too sweet.

I was about to speak the sentiment out loud when her fingers tugged my hair. “We need to take the pizza to go, I have a surprise for you.”

28

Juniper

Juniper: Enough about work, tell me about the cruise. How’s the weather?

Juniper: Actually, screw the weather. I want to know about the men … Is there anyone you like? Are you finally getting some?

Fiona: You’re as bad as your aunt.

Juniper: Sylvia knows how to have fun. Don’t avoid the question!

Fiona: A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.

Juniper: That means yes.

“Is the shower leaking again?” Callum’s fingers clasped tightly in mine as we crept up the stairs of Ivy House. In the other he held the steaming pizza box.

“Nope. It seems you actually do great work … for a cowboy.”

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