right now was to have to relive her wild night with Jace.
‘He’s not my new man,’ she grumbled. Or not any more. She followed Nessa into the snug galley kitchen. ‘And anyway it’s nearly lunchtime,’ she moaned, attempting to redirect the conversation. ‘Pastries will spoil our appetite.’ Not to mention apply several extra pounds to her hips, which she probably didn’t need. A vision of Jace’s ex-wife with her skeletal supermodel figure popped into Cassie’s head.
Correction, which she definitely didn’t need.
Bending to grab Cassie’s coffee jar out of the fridge, Nessa gave a rich chuckle. ‘You’re very grumpy this morning.’ She straightened, shooting Cassie a knowing smile and not looking redirected in the least. ‘Couldn’t be because you didn’t get enough sleep last night?’ She wiggled her eyebrows before ladling coffee into the cafetière. ‘Now could it?’
Cassie sighed and gave up. She knew Nessa. They’d been best friends since their first day at Hillsdown Road when Nessa had got a detention for talking back to the teacher, and Cassie had got one too for giggling at Nessa’s antics.
Nessa loved to share and discuss. She adored girl talk. And she was like a Rottweiler with a T-bone when it came to talking about sex. No way would she let the subject of Cassie’s wild night drop until she’d got all the juicy details.
‘Fine, all right.’ Cassie grabbed the kettle, held it over the sink and wrenched on the tap. ‘You got me. I did the wild thing with Jace Ryan last night.’
Nessa gave a deep chortle. ‘I knew it.’
‘How?’ Cassie asked as she plonked the kettle onto its stand and flicked the switch on. Surely it couldn’t be that obvious?
‘Well, now, let me see,’ Nessa said as her gaze roamed over Cassie’s rapidly flushing face. ‘Apart from that patch of whisker burn on your chin. There’s that dazed look in your eyes that says your girly bits definitely got one heck of a wake-up call last night.’
‘I see,’ Cassie muttered, not too pleased with the reminder.
Her girly bits weren’t doing denial nearly as well as she’d hoped when she’d walked out on Jace that morning. And Nessa’s observation was not helping them get with the programme.
‘So tell me,’ Nessa said, pouring boiling water onto the grounds and infusing the small room with the tempting aroma of fresh coffee. ‘Is that boy as mad, bad and dangerous to know as I remember him?’
Cassie lifted the pint bottle out of the fridge, added a splash of milk to the two Drama Queen mugs Nessa had placed on the counter top, and tried not to remember exactly how mad and bad Jace Ryan was in bed. ‘He’s certainly not a boy any more,’ she murmured.
Nessa gave a joyous whoop, arranging the two apple pastries onto a plate. ‘Hallelujah and amen to that!’ She lifted her coffee, toasted Cassie with the china mug. ‘It’s about time you got yourself a man who knows what he’s doing.’ Picking up the plate, she led Cassie into the living room. They settled in their usual seats on the vintage fifties couch. ‘So your Christmas is looking up, right? No more worries about missing he who shall not be named,’ she hissed in a deliberately theatrical voice, using the nickname she’d coined for Lance, the morning Cassie had run round to her best friend to tell her the sordid details of what she’d discovered Lance and Tracy doing on her vintage couch. ‘You got yourself a real man to snuggle up with on Christmas morning now.’
Cassie took a careful sip of her scalding coffee, and glanced over the rim of her mug at Nessa. ‘Not exactly,’ she said, and braced herself for the inevitable.
Nessa’s perfectly plucked brows drew down in a sharp frown and she placed her mug on the coffee table. ‘Why not exactly?’
‘It was strictly a one-night deal.’
‘You mean he doesn’t want a repeat performance? Why not? Is there something wrong with him?’ Nessa’s voice was so full of indignation on
‘He’s not my new man,’ she grumbled. Or not any more. She followed Nessa into the snug galley kitchen. ‘And anyway it’s nearly lunchtime,’ she moaned, attempting to redirect the conversation. ‘Pastries will spoil our appetite.’ Not to mention apply several extra pounds to her hips, which she probably didn’t need. A vision of Jace’s ex-wife with her skeletal supermodel figure popped into Cassie’s head.
Correction, which she definitely didn’t need.
Bending to grab Cassie’s coffee jar out of the fridge, Nessa gave a rich chuckle. ‘You’re very grumpy this morning.’ She straightened, shooting Cassie a knowing smile and not looking redirected in the least. ‘Couldn’t be because you didn’t get enough sleep last night?’ She wiggled her eyebrows before ladling coffee into the cafetière. ‘Now could it?’
Cassie sighed and gave up. She knew Nessa. They’d been best friends since their first day at Hillsdown Road when Nessa had got a detention for talking back to the teacher, and Cassie had got one too for giggling at Nessa’s antics.
Nessa loved to share and discuss. She adored girl talk. And she was like a Rottweiler with a T-bone when it came to talking about sex. No way would she let the subject of Cassie’s wild night drop until she’d got all the juicy details.
‘Fine, all right.’ Cassie grabbed the kettle, held it over the sink and wrenched on the tap. ‘You got me. I did the wild thing with Jace Ryan last night.’
Nessa gave a deep chortle. ‘I knew it.’
‘How?’ Cassie asked as she plonked the kettle onto its stand and flicked the switch on. Surely it couldn’t be that obvious?
‘Well, now, let me see,’ Nessa said as her gaze roamed over Cassie’s rapidly flushing face. ‘Apart from that patch of whisker burn on your chin. There’s that dazed look in your eyes that says your girly bits definitely got one heck of a wake-up call last night.’
‘I see,’ Cassie muttered, not too pleased with the reminder.
Her girly bits weren’t doing denial nearly as well as she’d hoped when she’d walked out on Jace that morning. And Nessa’s observation was not helping them get with the programme.
‘So tell me,’ Nessa said, pouring boiling water onto the grounds and infusing the small room with the tempting aroma of fresh coffee. ‘Is that boy as mad, bad and dangerous to know as I remember him?’
Cassie lifted the pint bottle out of the fridge, added a splash of milk to the two Drama Queen mugs Nessa had placed on the counter top, and tried not to remember exactly how mad and bad Jace Ryan was in bed. ‘He’s certainly not a boy any more,’ she murmured.
Nessa gave a joyous whoop, arranging the two apple pastries onto a plate. ‘Hallelujah and amen to that!’ She lifted her coffee, toasted Cassie with the china mug. ‘It’s about time you got yourself a man who knows what he’s doing.’ Picking up the plate, she led Cassie into the living room. They settled in their usual seats on the vintage fifties couch. ‘So your Christmas is looking up, right? No more worries about missing he who shall not be named,’ she hissed in a deliberately theatrical voice, using the nickname she’d coined for Lance, the morning Cassie had run round to her best friend to tell her the sordid details of what she’d discovered Lance and Tracy doing on her vintage couch. ‘You got yourself a real man to snuggle up with on Christmas morning now.’
Cassie took a careful sip of her scalding coffee, and glanced over the rim of her mug at Nessa. ‘Not exactly,’ she said, and braced herself for the inevitable.
Nessa’s perfectly plucked brows drew down in a sharp frown and she placed her mug on the coffee table. ‘Why not exactly?’
‘It was strictly a one-night deal.’
‘You mean he doesn’t want a repeat performance? Why not? Is there something wrong with him?’ Nessa’s voice was so full of indignation on
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