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“You already have her, Max. Why bother with romance?” Ian’s knowing gaze rubs at my already raw feelings.
I stare at him through the screen. “This is why you are still a lonely bachelor at fifty.”
He gives me a two-finger salute. “Bollocks.”
“RAF Club. We’ve booked the rooms,” Mum says, repressively.
“When do you arrive?” Cress breaks into the babble of family voices.
I turn my face away from the beaming family faces on the screen. My eyes focus on the woman before me. Disheveled, sleepy eyed, flushed, she is a vision of perfection.
Cress slips a hand around my forearm.
I move over so she can sit next to me. Now I’m mesmerized by the vision of our faces on the screen, practically cheek to cheek. Ignoring my family, I give her a kiss and murmur against her lips, “Why are you up?”
Cress presses her lips against my ear. “Missed you. Wish we could have stayed in bed longer and cuddled a bit.”
In response, I thrust two fingers toward the screen. “Ruined my morning. Thanks so much.”
“Max, really.” All four women, in various on-screen cells, protest at once.
I go for maximum shock value. As I sweep an arm around Cress, I make a loud proclamation. “I could be in bed, having morning sex.”
Wolf whistles erupt from the speaker. I give a mock glare. “Bloody hell. Do you think you’re sixth-formers?”
“You’re as young as you feel.” Dad gives another whistle. Ian, Frank, and Les hoot in appreciation. Mum shakes her head, and the girls roll around laughing.
Sean’s head pops into Diana and Les’ box, his mouth hanging open. “Is that Granddad?”
“Yes. And I don’t expect you to emulate him.” Diana tries for a severe parental tone, but the twinkle in her eye undercuts the lesson.
“TMI.” Meggy’s shudder is over-the-top theatrical.
Mum grimaces. Voice stern, she says, “You should be ashamed of yourself, Max. Cress, I’m sure you’re mortified.”
I paste on a shit-eating grin. Not sorry. Not at all.
Cress’ lips pinch and her eyes fill with suppressed laughter. She throws a mock punch. “Max can’t always restrain his baser instincts.”
Dad raps on the table in front of him to focus our attention in another direction. “In answer to your question, we will be in London on April 2nd. Around nine p.m. Do you want to meet us at the train or the club?”
Ian and I speak at the same time.
“Train.”
“Club.”
“Cress, love, you decide.”
I stroke her cheek and mouth a response to her. “Club.”
Cresswagsher head no. “We’ll meet you at the station.” Her fingers move to my mouth and push the corners up, forcing me to give a sliver of a smile.
“Good girl.” Ian’s crow can be heard around the world.
A groan erupts from my chest. Hazel eyes sparkling, Cress laughs. “That’s the fun part. A train station is a perfect place.”
A pang strikes my heart as I think of how Cress is estranged from her father and brother. My family have embraced her and she’s trying hard to reciprocate. Pure selfishness trying to keep her all for myself. I pull her close and rub my check against her hair. The messy topknot comes undone and her curly locks flow down her back. “Of course, we’ll meet them at the train.” The glow that suffuses her face makes the gesture worthwhile.
