Page 30 of Je T'aime, Actually
Chloé flushed, brushing her hair behind her ear to give her hands something to do. “It wasn’t just a good date. She cooked dinner. We talked. Laughed. Kissed.”
Leah Leant forward, elbows on knees, eyes glinting with interest. “Kissed, huh? Like soft and meaningful…or the kind that says ‘we should really take this to the bedroom’?”
Chloé bit her lower lip, eyes flickering with memory. “Both.”
Leah let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s rare. You really like her.”
“I do,” Chloé said quietly, as if saying it too loudly might shatter the delicate truth of it. “It’s not just chemistry. It’s...comfort. She’s grounded, sharp, kind. And guarded in a way that makes me want to know her more, not less.”
Leah was quiet for a moment, just watching her. “Well, I’ll say it again. About bloody time.”
Chloé smiled into her coffee. “Let’s just see where it goes. Her life is here, mine is in France.”
“So, for now…” Leah asked, “you’re doing the whole slow-burn, angsty, 'let’s take our time' thing? Or are you planning a scandalous sleepover?”
Chloé gave her a playful nudge with her foot. “None of your business.”
Leah laughed. “That’s not a no.”
They both grinned, a warmth settling between them. Outside, the clouds had cleared just slightly, letting a few early rays fall across the room.
Chloé exhaled softly. “I think I just want it to be real. That’s all. No games, no pretending.”
Leah’s response turned gentle, “Then you’re already off to a good start.”
twenty-three
“What have you done with Frank?” Monroe asked as she let herself into Poppy’s house, the familiar warmth of it wrapping around her. The sound of small, fast footsteps echoed from the stairs.
“Roe Roe!” Kitty shouted, launching herself down the last few steps and straight into Monroe’s arms.
“He’s got a darts competition at the pub,” Poppy called from the kitchen.
Monroe laughed, holding Kitty close. “He’s really getting into that, isn’t he?” She looked down at Kitty and whispered, “And shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I was,” Kitty said matter-of-factly, “but I stayed awake to see you. Chloé is pretty.”
Poppy appeared in the hallway, tea towel slung over her shoulder, and one eyebrow arched in theatrical disapproval. “Kitty Monroe Harrington, what did we say about staying in bed once you’re tucked in?”
Kitty looked up at her mother, entirely unbothered. “We said try. Ididtry. But then I heard Roe Roe’s voice and got un-tired.”
Monroe grinned. “Un-tired, huh?”
Kitty nodded solemnly. “Yup. Besides, I needed to tell you something important.”
Poppy folded her arms, curious despite herself. “Oh? Go on then. Let’s hear this earth-shattering revelation.”
Kitty turned back to Monroe and whispered, loud enough for both adults to hear, “You should definitely keep Chloé. She looks at you like you’re her favourite pudding.”
Poppy let out a short laugh. “Well, that’s that decided, then.”
Monroe flushed slightly. “Kitty—”
“She does! And you smiled so much the other night your face probably hurt after. That’s how you know.”
Poppy leant against the banister, smirking. “Honestly, I’d trust her instincts over most adults. Kid’s like a tiny lie detector with pigtails.”
Kitty beamed. “I don’t lie. Except to Benji when I say his Lego is in the garden.”
