Page 26 of Replay
However, Tilly is much like her brother in that regard—strong, determined, and loves to march to the beat of her own drum. But as I pull up in front of Mac and Freya’s home in Brick Lane, I hope that her accepting my invitation tonight means she wants this night to happen for more reasons than to just piss off her brother.
Because I have high hopes for this evening.
That coffee with Tilly felt like old times but brighter, clearer, and more honest. Years ago, I was perfectly fine to know a woman’s body and not her mind. Now, I want it all, especially from the very different Tilly Logan.
So, that’s my goal for tonight. To see if that spark we once shared is still there. To see if perhaps there could be more to our story than the original version now that Tilly and I aren’t holding back from each other. Her sobriety in no way deters me. In fact, I think it’s highly attractive. We’ll finally get to know each other how we should have in the beginning, with no barriers of alcohol or arbitrary rules coming between us.
I knock on the door and cringe when Mac’s large frame appears. His red hair is soaked in sweat as he stands with boxing gloves on and zero smiles for me.
“Santino,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Hiya, Mac, good to see you again.” I hold my hand out to shake his, but he just stares me down, refusing to even fist bump me.
“Mac, stop being a grumpy bear,” a familiar Cornish accent calls out from inside. “And take off those ridiculous boxing gloves. You’ve been done working out for twenty minutes.”
Mac steps back to let me inside. Upon entering, I look left to see Freya sacked out on the sofa with her feet up on the coffee table and a big orange cat on her lap.
“Hello, Freya. Congratulations on the baby on the way.” I point stupidly to her pronounced pregnant belly.
“Thanks, Santino. So nice to see you again,” she replies cheerily while petting the cat.
When Mac grumbles from beside me, I look over, expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t. He just mutters his annoyance and begrudgingly removes his gloves.
I turn my attention back to Freya. “How long until the due date again?”
“Oh, baby should come before Christmas, God willing. We have a scan next week to see if I can get off this bed rest anytime soon.” She beams happily at Mac, who I can feel still glowering at me. “Tilly has been a godsend. And thank you for helping us with this contract. You and Tilly seem to have everything under control, so I’m focusing on my primary job as a human incubator.”
“As you should,” I reply with a forced smile. “And Tilly is very on top of everything. I think the revisions I made for both of you this week should be beneficial for Friday’s meeting.”
“And I hear you’re going to that meeting with her? That’s so thoughtful of you. Mac, isn’t that thoughtful of Santino?”
Mac tucks his gloves under his arms and grumbles again, although this time it sounded more like a growl.
“Mac,” Freya snaps his name, and he turns his scowl to her. “Thoughtful, right?”
“Aye, sure.” He turns his narrowed eyes at me. “As long as he’s thoughtful witheverything.”
I swallow the knot in my throat and nod slowly. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mac.”
“I best not.”
Suddenly, our attention is diverted to the staircase as we hear Tilly descend. My eyes can’t help but drink in her ripped black jeans, chunky boots, and a white-and-black-striped tank top that flows down her narrow body in a casual yet somehow sexy way. I told her to dress comfortably because of my plans for later, but I didn’t anticipate her “comfortable” look to still be so sexy.
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Mac barks, eyeing his sister up and down. “You said this was a business meeting.”
“It is.” Tilly shrugs her shoulders and glances nervously over at me. “What are you, the fashion police?”
“You look great!” Freya calls out, effectively silencing her husband.
Mac opens his mouth, but Tilly steps between us and grabs my arm to pull me towards the door. “See you both later. Enjoy your evening alone.”
“I still don’t know why you couldn’t have had the meeting here. We have a perfectly good kitchen table that holds papers nicely. It’s strong…made of oak.” Mac stands in the doorway and watches us walk out to my car. He points a finger at my Audi. “That’s what you drive?”
“Yes?”
“Figures,” he huffs.
My brows puzzle as Tilly yells, “Bye!” and slams herself in my car, ignoring her brother completely.
