The Lunchtime Special

Chapter 24 - Wet Balls

"Hello beautiful."

"Hi."

"How was your day?"

"It was busy." I recount the events of the day to Jake, beginning with going to the airport with the Maid of Honour to meet Laila's two best friends; Ava had flown in from Buenos Aires while Lauren arrived from London, and their presence meant the bridal shower could finally be held, only three days before the wedding. Twenty-two women had met at one of Melbourne's fanciest hotels for a champagne brunch followed by games traditional to such events.

What I don't tell him is how I'd spent much of the time trying to keep away from his mother. All week I've been doing my best to steer clear of Anthea Harrington as much as I can but it's unavoidable to be in her company occasionally in my official role as Best Friend. At those times she keeps up a subtle stream of snide or passive-aggressive comments that, try as I might to ignore, manage to get under my skin. I do my best to make her think they're sliding over me like water off a duck's back, but by the end of each day my jaw is aching from clenching it tightly each time I see her, and today is no exception.

"Sounds like fun," Jake pronounces and I'm thankful he can't see my eye roll.

"How was your day?" I ask, very keen to change the subject.

"It was good." I hear a hint of tiredness in his voice and know he's been putting in long hours these past few days familiarising himself with the firm he's working with, especially as he's taking Friday off to be here for the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. "I'm making good progress, so leaving tomorrow night shouldn't be a problem." My heart flutters when he adds, in a deeper, huskier tone, "I can't wait to see you."

"It's only been three days," I tease, but to say I'm counting down the hours until he gets here would be an understatement. "I don't think I've changed significantly."

He chuckles and adopts a teasing note too. "You haven't done an Ames on me and died your hair psychedelic pink or gotten my name tattooed on your very delicious rear end?"

I snort, mainly to cover up the quivering set off by his calling my rear end delicious. "That would most definitely not be the first place I'd get a tattoo," I tell him.

"You're open to getting one then?"

I think about how sexy his is, and how much I adore running my fingers - and tongue – over the design. "It's not something I've given much thought to before, but...I'm beginning to see the appeal."

"So where would you put your very first inking?"

"I don't know; I'd have to give that a lot of thought."

"I'm happy to help you examine your body for just the perfect spot...two pairs of hands are much better than one."

I can't help but laugh at his blatant flirting. "Don't you mean two pairs of eyes?"

"Eyes too; just looking at your beautiful body is Heaven on earth, but touching..." I need to find another source of oxygen as his softly spoken words push the air out of my lungs. "Touching you is...better than Heaven, Nirvana and Xanadu rolled into one."

Holy moly.

Clearing my throat – twice – I tell him, "I'll...um...keep your offer in mind. What time are you arriving tomorrow?"

I can tell he's amused by my adroit segue. "I'm on a five thirty flight, so I'll get in at ten thirty; allow another thirty minutes to get to the city. Are we meeting at your hotel or my flat?"

I don't question his assumption that we will be seeing each other, in spite of the late hour of his arrival. "I'm sharing a suite with Ames, so..."