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“So do I,” he drawls. “I can tell you every brand of whiskey just from drinking it.”
“Hi, Mum,” she says breezily, without looking over. “Did you know your zip’s done up wrong? What were you and Dad doing in the library anyway?”
“Fixing a broken picture,” I mutter, opening the fridge door to cool the heat from my face and grab a bottle of wine as an excuse.
When I turn around, Viper just smirks at me and leaves me to wallow in my embarrassment for a full minute before asking me when my new dance studio is opening.
“Next month. After we come back from Sicily and Kenya.”
For Bambi’s belated birthday present, we’re all flying out to the Masai Mara for a week-long safari. She’s already made a countdown chart and stuck it to the fridge door. She’s marking off each day with a big, black cross.
Hanging up his call, Frankie walks over to us and pours me a large glass of white. Planting a kiss on my cheek, his fingertips brush against my side zip, inching it up to respectable levels again. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Lastra,” he says in that low husky voice of his that only makes me want him more. “You better wait up, or else.”
“Or else, what?” I tease, forgoing the wine to wrap my arms around his waist instead.
“Or else that five hours of sleep I was planning to let you have becomes no sleep for either of us.”
I glance over at Viper who’s whispering something to Bambi, and before long they’re both grinning in our direction.
“Viper just told me that love isn’t like falling into a bearpit anymore,” she announces proudly. “Well, itisstill a bearpit,” she corrects with a frown. “But he says that there’s this secret trapdoor that not many people know about. But if you search and search for it and you manage to find it, then you’re one of the rare, lucky ones.”
“What happens, then?” I ask, as Frankie starts laughing.
She shrugs, as if she hasn’t really thought about that part yet.
“I guess you come out of it alive.”
THE END
