Page 68 of Always Beth
‘Has he been pining for her?’ I laugh.
‘Hmmm. He’s not the only one pining.’
He swipes his tongue across his lower lip and the sight reminds me just how good he is with that part of his body. There’s so much I want to say.
‘I, err—’
‘Beth, so pleased you could come.’ Lauren scoops Dick under her arm and descends the stairs, quickly launching herself into me. She drags me into the kitchen where I find three places set for dinner.
‘Don’t panic, we’re getting takeout. James can’t cook, by the way, in case you’re wondering.’
‘Thanks for that, Lauren,’ he replies dryly.
Hesitating momentarily, he steps forward, pulling out a chair for me, gesturing towards the table. I sit in silence as I listen to them chatter between themselves and my heart aches as I try to imagine what it must feel like to be faced with losing someone this close.
‘So, after dinner I thought we could play some games?’ Lauren says, handing me a glass of wine.
‘Really? Do we have to?’ James moans.
Lauren scowls and it’s clear that it was an instruction not a suggestion.
He tosses a tea towel on the side, then leans back against the worktop. ‘Fine, as long as it’s not Twister.’
I giggle nervously and James catches my eye, my expression giving away every last one of my inner thoughts. I would take any opportunity to be entangled with him right now and that would have been the perfect excuse.
* * *
This isn’t how I imagined this evening would go, but after giving Lauren the choice, this is what she wanted to do.
I smile as James shifts uncomfortably in the chair. ‘Why do I have to be the one blindfolded?’
‘Shush.’ Lauren smiles as she pulls the sleep mask across James’ eyes.
I giggle as I read the text emblazoned across the front:Wake me for snacks.
‘I don’t see why this is so funny.’ He folds his arms across his shirt, pulling taught against his biceps.
This isn’t funny; this is a turn-on.
I stifle my laugh as I look at the table of snacks in front of me, covered by a tea towel.
‘Go on, Beth, give me the first one,’ Lauren says eagerly.
I gingerly reveal the contents of the tray in front of me, carefully opening a jar of pickled onions and placing the lid silently on the side.
‘We’re nearly forty, I can’t believe we’re doing this.’ James sighs heavily as he leans back in his chair.
Lauren bites down gently to avoid the telltale crunch of the onion, which will surely give the game away.
‘She’s eating it now, what is it?’ I laugh. There’s no way, no way this is a thing.
‘An onion.’
What the…
‘A pickled onion, from a jar, one of those tiny ones.’ He sighs.
Lauren shrieks and stamps her feet repeatedly with excitement. ‘Next one, next one.’
