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“That’s Ollie’s fault. I think he ate, like, five.” She watches me pull on my boxers as she tugs on her knickers and T-shirt. “Did you see my dad at the cottage?”
“Yeah.”
She has an elastic band around her wrist, and she takes it off, scoops her hair up into a scruffy bun, and fixes it in place. Then she gives me a startled look. “I’ve just thought… he gave Emma Millie’s bag.”
“Yeah?”
“He knew what you had planned?”
I glance at the bed. “Well, not all of it…”
“Oh God.”
I chuckle, leading the way through to the kitchen. “I told him we needed to spend some time together, and he thought it was a great idea.”
“And everyone else?”
I shrug and start lifting out the trays of food. “They were the same. They all wanted to help.”
Her face flushes at the thought that everyone knows what I’d planned up here. After all, I didn’t just order the takeaway. I had the mattress delivered and made up the bed.
I stop taking out the trays and look at her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think that it might be embarrassing for you. I just wanted to have some time alone with you.”
“I know.” She wrinkles her nose at me and starts opening the containers. “I think it was a lovely idea. I’m touched that our friends helped. It’s just funny to think that they’re all aware of how much I wanted you.” She drops her gaze to the Pad Thai and starts spooning it onto the plates.
I slide an arm around her waist and nuzzle her neck. “You wanted me?”
“Couldn’t you tell?”
“I’m not a hundred percent sure. Maybe we should go again so you can prove it.”
Her eyes widen, and her gaze turns sultry. “You’re insatiable. I love it.”
“It’s your fault,” I mumble, retrieving the rice. “You smell nice.”
She just smiles and spoons it out, but her cheeks take on a pretty flush.
We spoon the Massaman Curry over the rice, add the skewers of chicken satay, and reheat it until it’s all piping hot. Meanwhile, I open the champagne, and we take it all into the living room and place it on the chabudai, seating ourselves on the cushions.
I pour the champagne into two glasses and hold mine up to her.
“To us,” I say.
She meets my eyes. “To us.”
We tap glasses and have a sip.
Then, because my stomach rumbles again, we laugh and dig into our food.
We eat for a couple of minutes, not saying much, but gradually slow as the worst of our hunger is sated.
“That’s better, she says with a sigh. “I was starving.”
“Mm. This curry’s amazing.”
She chews a piece of chicken, watching me, and gradually my lips curve up. “What?”
“We had sex,” she says.
