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  “Shall we cook Mummy lunch?” Hunger was starting to seep in, and I knew if I didn’t eat, hanger would claw its way out of my skin like the Hulk.

  Rose nodded and pushed her blanket down. The unicorn onesie had been lost and sweatpants and a T-shirt put on in its place. “Can we have lunch too?”

  “I think that can be arranged.” I picked her up to take her into the kitchen and put her on the worktop next to me, then started to root through the kitchen cupboards for supplies.

  There were about a dozen eggs, fresh salad, mushrooms and cheese – everything I needed for a decent omelette and salad lunch. I prepped the salad, listening to Rose tell me about her friend Addy, and nursery. I learned about their reading corner and the forest school outside and was told all about James and how he’d showed everyone his willy. It took a few seconds to realise she was telling me about another child and not an adult I’d need to sever the limbs of.

  “Mummy says a willy’s called a penis too.”

  I thanked the world for having Claire as a sister; she’d prepared me for a plethora of weird conversations over the years and pretty much nothing could phase me.

  “Your mummy’s right. It is.” I carefully chopped the onion for the omelette. “How are you going to have your bedroom painted?”

  A safer topic of conversation was needed.

  “I want it blue with a big foonicorn on the wall with a rainbow.” More detail was added about clouds and seahorses and a castle. Rose provided a soundtrack to my cooking, accepting a carton of juice and talking happily. I understood about forty percent of it, enough to get the gist of what she was saying.

  Enough that I now had plans to help decorate her bedroom exactly as she’d described it.

  “That looks good.”

  We both looked to the doorway where Georgia stood, arms folded, leaning against the frame.

  “How long have you been there?”

  She grinned. “Long enough to hear Rose tell you how to do a fishtail braid and you correcting her.”

  “Three sisters. You learn these things or bad things happen.” I lifted Rose off the counter, hoping that it wasn’t something Georgia was going to be cross at. “Go sit at the table.”

  Rose pulled her face. “Can’t I watch TV?”

  “No, table.” The first rule of Marie Callaghan – you ate at the table unless it was a special occasion.

  She didn’t argue back.

  I caught Georgia trying not to laugh.

  Avoiding her eyes was easy. Being shy wasn’t a known facet of mine, but this was about as close to it as I’d come. I was in someone else’s house making lunch for them and their kid and probably so far out of my depth I was drowning.

  “How was your meeting?”

  She sat down at the table that I’d already set. “Good. I have some work to pass onto Payton.” She explained the lead. “And they agreed to settle most of their current account.”

  “How much is that?” It was a big amount for work that had been billed already by me and one of the assistants. Georgia had picked it up to lead on.

  “Nineteen thousand. They’ve had something else come up with a place on an industrial estate they want to sell, but it’s not straightforward, so I think they knew if they didn’t put some cash in, I’d say no.” She started eating, her eyes on Rose who had a smaller portion of what we had, with very little cheese. “Make sure you chew before you swallow.”

  I chuckled.

  “Claire says the same thing to Killian.”

  Georgia laughed. She’d met Killian the week before. “It does stop you from choking, so good advice. Thank you for cooking, by the way.”

  “No biggie.”

  Silence fell like a weighted blanket. Rose looked sleepy as soon as she’d finished eating most of her lunch, which had killed her chatter, while Georgia looked lost in a sea of thoughts.

  Every so often, I’d catch her looking at me, her lips pausing as if she was about to ask me something, then thinking better of it.

  I wondered if I looked the same. I wanted to know about Rose’s father, about why she was single, how she felt about dating a colleague. And then I didn’t want to know any of that because I was concentrating on my career, and not on my colleague with the silky hair and the breasts I wanted to know better, because she had a daughter and a whole closet of complications.

  And I was meant to be the poster boy for professionalism.

  “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d be like this.”

  I frowned, unsure of what she meant.

  “So good with kids. And getting it, you know, what ties they give you.” She looked apologetic, her eyes widening.

  Then she bit her bottom lip.

  Red hair flew about her shoulders, framing a face that was almost make-up free. She looked young, vulnerable and I saw her hurt and wanted to make it better.

  “Ties are good. She’s amazing. Like you are, making partner and bringing her up by yourself.” I knew the praise would embarrass her.

  “Mummy, can I go and have a nap on the sofa?” Rose’s voice chimed up. “I’m tired.”

  Georgia paced over to her, her eyes assessing Rose’s face. “You don’t feel sick?”

  Rose shook her head. “Just sleepy.”

  “Okay. Go and nap on the sofa, but no sneaking the TV on.” There was the same firm tone that I’d heard from my mother.

  Rose slid off her chair and went to a corner of the kitchen where a tatty teddy sat and picked it up, cuddling it to her as she headed out of the room to the lounge.

  “She must be tired if she’s taking him.” Georgia watched after her. “When she was two, she wouldn’t go anywhere without that bear.” She smiled and looked wistful. “Give it another few months and I’ll be putting it in a cupboard because I’ll be the one wanting to keep it.”

  “She’ll like seeing it again when she’s older. Ava had a doll that she took everywhere when she was a kid and she found it again over Christmas. I think she preferred it to any presents.” I’d gotten up to load the dishwasher, Georgia bringing the plates over to me.

  “I can clear up. You cooked.”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t bother me. You can return the favour sometime.”

  “I’m running up a debt of them. Seriously, Seph, I’m really thankful for your help and going out of your way and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about Rose.” She leaned against the kitchen worktop.

  She was wearing jeans that hung low and were loose, her top a little more formal, a patterned shirt with the top couple of buttons undone showing skin that was creamy and smooth. I knew I was staring.

  “I kind of understand. But we’re not like that at work. If anyone suggested you put work before your kid, Max would probably barbecue them after Claire had skinned them. Which makes my family sound gory. Which they are.” It was true. Claire especially. “Claire will love the fact you have a daughter. One more for her girls club.”

  “I feel bad for not telling her. It feels like I’ve betrayed her.” She looked out of the room to where Rose had gone.

  I shrugged, putting the last plate in the dishwasher. I did consider myself very well housetrained, which I hoped Georgia had noticed, I just wasn’t sure why, because that was weird.

  “I get you wanted to keep work and home separate though. But if you carry on doing that, you’ll probably be the only one at the firm who does.” I leaned against the cupboards opposite her, cupboards I’d helped Ava install one weekend.

  That got me a smile. “It’s a relief that I don’t have to not say anything anymore. And she’s a great kid.” Her hands went to her hair and pulled it out of her face.

  I wanted it to be my hands.

  She bit that bottom lip and my cock stirred, my jeans tightening. I crossed my arms over my chest so I didn’t make the mistake of rearranging myself or reaching for her or doing something equally idiotic, because her eyes had darkened and that lip wasn’t being bitten through worry now.

  I cursed Max for a
ppointing her. Wondered if he’d done it on purpose to torture me, but given how good at her job she’d shown herself to be over the last week, I knew that wasn’t the reason. Besides, that would’ve meant Max had a sense of humour.

  “She’s really bright. Why did you call her Rose?” I needed to focus on her daughter being a couple of rooms away and the pile of additional files we’d had dropped off a couple of hours ago.

  Georgia stuffed her hands in her pockets, still looking at me, making me remember when we’d been in Amelie’s and we’d shared a look then that had crossed some invisible line.

  I was attracted to her and I was pretty sure she didn’t find me horrific.

  “It was the Shakespeare quote – ‘a rose with any other name would still smell as sweet’. I didn’t know what I was going to call her until after she was born. She was early, and I didn’t know if it would be a boy or a girl, and I wasn’t ready to decide on what it would be for each. But when I properly saw her, that line just ran through my head. I had a rose tattooed on me a few months later – I wasn’t sure what hurt more: childbirth or that.” Her giggle was soft and childlike, but it wasn’t that I was stuck on.

  “Where’s your tattoo?” I licked my lips, suddenly dry.

  “It’s only small, but it’s here.” She undid the cuff of her left sleeve and pushed the material up.

  I stepped closer to see; it was a small tattoo, crisply done on the underside of her forearm in neat narrow lines. My hand took hold of her wrist to still her so I could see and that was my biggest mistake.

  I’d heard Jackson drunkenly talk about how it’d felt the first time he’d kissed Vanessa, describing how time had stopped and the world had shrunk so it only contained him and her. Max and I had hackled at him, while Callum had said nothing, probably understanding more than we’d realised.

  Now I understood, because everything around us had reduced to nothing. I wasn’t looking at her tattoo, I was looking at her looking back at me. My other hand went to rest on the counter behind her and I leaned closer, catching the faint scent of her body wash.

  “Fuck it.”

  I leaned in, pressing my forehead to hers, my chest about to explode with the incessant thud of my heart. Two beats, three.

  She shifted, her lips brushing mine, her free hand threading between us to my shoulder.

  The kiss was slow, but it wasn’t gentle. It seemed that lunch hadn’t satisfied either of us, and we both needed a taste of something else. Slow, heavy nips that tested each other’s lips while our hands began to wander, mine threading through that hair which was as silky as I’d expected, wrapping it around my fingers.

  Need flooded through me and my breath shortened like it hadn’t before, even the first time I’d kissed the only girl I’d ever been in love with. Words shattered across my brain that told me I was a dick for doing this, we were colleagues and I was focused on being professional. This was anything but.

  Only I didn’t care. Her hair through my fingers, her lips on mine, her breasts pushed against my chest, were all worth any shit I had to deal with afterwards.

  The doorbell rang, tearing us apart like boxers in a ring. I stepped backwards, my hand sticking to the smooth skin just above her jeans. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, eyes dilated and filled with the same need as I knew mine were.

  The bell trilled again.

  “I should get that before it wakes Rose.” She didn’t move.

  “I’ll get it. You check on her.” I pressed my lips together, wondering what we’d have said to Rose if she’d walked in on us.

  She put her hand on mine, her touch almost too soft. “We need to go then, before that bell rings again.”

  I nodded and managed to move, telling myself that this couldn’t happen again. That I needed to explain it to her, apologise.

  Knowing I wouldn’t.

  Knowing that one kiss wasn’t going to be enough.

  Chapter Eleven

  Georgia

  It’d been twenty-two hours since I’d experienced a kiss that’d seemingly stripped my brain of any form of sanity and made my insides a puddled mess.

  I still wasn’t sure whether the delivery of a parcel for Miss Rose had been a blessing or a curse. If it hadn’t called time on what I was getting up to against my kitchen counter with my colleague, then I wasn’t entirely sure when the brakes would’ve gone on. Possibly when my daughter walked in on us and I still didn’t know how that conversation might’ve panned out.

  Mummy, what’s that man doing with your mouth?

  Mummy, why’s Seph got his hand up your top?

  Mummy, what’s Seph got in his trousers? Is that where his willy is?

  Holy fucking mother of all things invented.

  Because Seph was packing a weapon that a certain part of my body really would like to make fire. Explode. Burn me into the next century, just not with a water infection, because dick’s that big – well. I’d had one boyfriend back in college who’d had an appendage that was eye-watering, so big that me and two friends had all refused to sleep with him. I’d ended up feeling quite sorry for him, as I wasn’t sure exactly who would let him destroy their lady parts with his gargantuan cock.

  Seph had been pressed against me and his jeans hadn’t done an awful lot to conceal what was inside the denim. My face flushed thinking about how I’d practically humped him, his warm maleness negating anything I’d done in recent months – read years – with my plastic friends.

  Don’t get me wrong, after Rose’s father showed himself to be a complete and utter tosser, I’d been more than happy to satisfy everything down there with a decent sized rabbit, once I’d gotten over the trauma of childbirth.

  But until yesterday, I hadn’t even been tempted to lock the lips on my face with another human, and yesterday my daughter was two rooms away and could’ve walked in on Mummy and Prince Seph sussing out the details of something other than a contract.

  The delivery had broken the spell. He’d answered the door, almost like he lived there and I was freaked out that that hadn’t freaked me out, and I’d checked that Rose was still sleeping. Luckily for me, she’d slept like the dead since the day she’d turned two, and when the parcel had been signed for and I’d discovered it was from Olivia, whatever spell had been cast around us in the kitchen had gone. We’d resumed working until Max had called Seph and demanded his presence at the gym.

  Maybe he’d left me reluctantly. I’d kind of got the vibe that if I’d asked him to stay, he would’ve, but by that point I was having a minor freak out.

  And I was having another right now.

  This morning I’d dropped Rose off with Elspeth, making my child-minder-fairy-godmother swear to phone me if Rose so much as turned a shade paler, then I headed into the office for a client meeting, followed by coffee with another potential client, and now I was behind my desk, hearing Seph’s laugh as he came closer to the door and wondering if I could hide under something, like the pile of his winter coats that were near the door.

  I kissed my colleague and I liked it.

  He didn’t taste of cherry chapstick.

  No, he’d tasted of all male, dirty, sexy male.

  I’d always loved my red hair, but I didn’t love my colouring. Any form of blush came up like hives, which was exactly what was happening now.

  Seph laughed again from directly outside our office, speaking to Max about the boxing training they’d done at the gym yesterday. My heart thudded heavier than a punch, and one that was repeated over and over again.

  I was a thirty-something year old woman with a daughter and a pretty successful career. I’d kissed a colleague, not been screwed senseless by him.

  I wasn’t even sure who’d started the kiss. When I replayed in it my head, which I’d done at least twice - if twice was a double digit number – sometimes it was me who’d pressed my lips to his, his hands on my arm, my waist and then moving up to my hair, dictating the pace and intensity of it. Sometimes it was him who’d started it, leaning i
n and demanding from me straight away something I hadn’t wanted to give to anyone else, least of all while my daughter was so close.

  Least of all with the mistake I’d made five years ago.

  The door opened and I was pretty sure my chest had been blasted open with the rate my heart was thudding. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Seph had entered and dialled an ambulance, finding my exploded body across the floor.

  That would possibly have been the kindest thing to happen to me, seeing that if it didn’t, my face was going to set the room on fire.

  “How’s Rose? I messaged you to find out – is she okay?”

  His beaming smile lit up his face like a megawatt bulb.

  I managed to nod, somehow regaining the use of a few of my faculties. “She’s much better. Staying off nursery for the rest of the week though.” I was pretty sure Seph wasn’t bothered where she was, as long as she was okay.

  He rummaged around his desk, which had gone from immaculate to a hurricane with a temper in a matter of days. “Did she sleep okay?”

  I smiled. “Like a very tired four-year-old should. Lucky for me, she sleeps like a log and doesn’t move. When she was younger, I woke up to a foot in my mouth a couple of times and I’m not being metaphorical.”

  “She sleeps with you?” His raised his brows.

  I noticed that his stubble was darker than yesterday and figured he hadn’t shaved again. The bits lower than my stomach twisted, remembering what that had felt like when we’d kissed and my skin goosed thinking about how it would feel travelling across my stomach and further down.

  I had to stop these thoughts just in case they were written across my face.

  “Sometimes. She did when she was younger, and she did last night. I wouldn’t have slept if she’d been in her own room.”

  I met his eyes for the first time and tried to read what he was thinking. Was he stuck on that kiss like I was? Or was this a normal thing, making out with the new girl at work?

  I had no idea and no one to ask.

  “But she’s okay today? No headache or anything?” He looked genuinely concerned.