Page 43 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
I pressed my lips into a grimace. “That’s a good point. I’ve already been stabbed by a needle far too many times this week. I don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Sounds traumatic.”
“Have you ever been stabbed in the same spot six times by a razor-sharp pin?”
“I can’t say I recall such a time, no.”
“I would be more than happy to help you with that.” I eyed the line in front of me. “You can’t possibly understand my reluctance,” I replied, leaning over towards him a little. “What are the chances this line will disappear when your mum grabs the mic to do the countdown?”
He craned his neck to peer over the top of my head. “Based on the ratio of families to adults and teenagers… A good chance it’ll cut down as people panic and leave. Probably not disappear, as there are several bored-looking dads who look like they couldn’t give a toss about a pig turning on lights—”
“Relatable,” I agreed solemnly.
“—And some young lads who might be whipped enough to stay in line for their teen girlfriends with the promise of a sloppy blowjob in a secluded corner of a carpark.”
“Are you projecting your own teenage years there?”
“I can categorically say I never once received a sloppy blowjob in a secluded corner of a carpark.”
“You were awfully specific for me to believe that. Did you have a non-sloppy one?”
“Why do you care?”
I shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“About who may or may not have put my penis in their mouth?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I bet it was Amanda Ackerman.”
Thomas side-eyed me. “What makes you think that?”
“Teenage girls are bitchy. You hear things.” I paused. “Some things stay with you.”
“Well, she never gave me a sloppy blowjob in a carpark. Or any kind of blowjob anywhere at all.” He frowned. “I can’t believe I’m discussing this in a waffle line, with you of all people.”
I couldn’t help but smile, although it did feel like more of a wry smirk than anything else. “Good, because I am extremely amused by the fact a member of the aristocracy is discussing blowjobs he may or may not have had in a car park more than a decade ago.”
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
“Yep. Your desire to make amends with me makes you weak and open to my manipulation.” I shuffled forwards in the line. “How long until the countdown?”
He sighed and checked his watch. “Anytime… now.”
The music quietened, and we both turned in the direction of the centre of the square where the unlit tree and stage were. Slowly, people filtered in that direction, leaving the orderly queues they were in to try and get as close to the switch-on stage as they could.
It was largely futile. People had been waiting there for ages already, and I would be impressed if anyone could get any closer than they already were.
It worked well for me and my waffle mission, though.
The line thinned out the way I’d hoped it would, and Thomas had nailed it. The stragglers left in front of us were largely men who were clearly holding a place in line for theirfemale family members or those who were potentially going to get a blowie in exchange for a waffle.
Honestly, a blowjob was worth at least two waffles. With extra chocolate sauce.
I mean, you had to sell your dignity to do it in public, so waffles were the least the guy could do given he was having all the fun.
“Good call,” I said, happily moving into the space that had been left by the vacating queuers.
These people were amateurs. Who left a queue to see lights be turned on by a pig?Amateurs, I tell you.
