Chapter 80
Chapter eighty
Rosa was busy in the kitchen. She had the kettle boiling and three mugs set out on the counter. At the sound of Meredith and Billy entering the house, she stepped out into the hallway.
“Hot chocolate?” she asked, and held Billy’s gaze a beat too long. ”Is everything alright?”
“That would be lovely,” Meredith said, with just the hint of a smirk on her lips. “And I’ll take it up to bed. Has Imogen gone up already?”
Rosa smiled and nodded. “Yes, straight to bed for that one.”
“It’s been a long day for us all,” Meredith agreed. Turning to Billy, she added, “I’ll get out of your way. Will you bring it up for me?”
“Of course.”
“Goodnight, Rosa.”
Rosa watched as Meredith left the room and Billy fidgeted with her hands.
“She knows, doesn’t she?” Rosa said.
“Uh huh. She overheard our conversation in the car and put two and two together after Imogen mentioned you leaving my room this morning.”
Rosa stiffened, her arms automatically wrapping around herself in a bid to self-soothe the frustration of being found out before they were ready to tell all. They’d been so careful, and just like that, it was out.
“She’s not going to tell Imogen,” Billy assured her. “And she’s happy for us.”
“Of course she is. I didn’t doubt for a moment that she wouldn’t be. I just…” Rosa swallowed. “I thought we’d been careful and then…what if Imogen also puts two and two together and works it out before we tell her?”
Billy stepped closer and took Rosa by the shoulders. “So, let’s just tell her.”
“But we said we’d wait till we got home.”
“I know, but that was when we didn’t know how things would turn out. Schultz is okay. He’s going to be fine and home in a few days.”
Rosa sagged and fell against Billy’s body, letting herself be held. “So, we tell her. Tomorrow, before we fly home?”
“I think so. I think it’s the best option now. And if I’m honest, I want our daughter to know we love each other and are together again.”
“I want that too,” Rosa said, looking up into those eyes that had haunted her all these years.
Their mouths met, tongues instantly drawn to one another. A kiss—warm, hungry, familiar—that said much more than words ever could. Billy tasted of mint and coffee, Rosa tasted like chocolate and nerves.
Rosa felt her feet move as Billy propelled her backwards and pressed her up against the edge of the counter. The cold lip of it bit through her clothes and grounded her, even as everything inside her went soft.
Billy’s hands framed Rosa’s face, thumbs sweeping along her jaw as she deepened the kiss. Rosa made a small sound she didn’t mean to, and Billy answered it with a slow, deliberate press of her mouth, as though she had all the time in the world.
Rosa’s fingers found the front of Billy’s shirt and curled there, tugging her closer. Their bodies slotted together—mouths, hips, thighs—Billy’s knee nudging between Rosa’s legs in a quiet, insistent question.
Rosa broke the kiss just long enough to drag in air. “We’re in the kitchen,” she whispered, as if the house might hear.
Billy’s mouth moved to the corner of hers, then her cheek, then the soft skin beneath her ear. “I know,” she murmured, and the words vibrated against Rosa’s throat.
Rosa shivered. Her hands slid up into Billy’s curls, holding on as Billy’s lips returned to hers—harder, messier, the kind of kiss that left no room for doubt.
“Billy.” Rosa pulled back. “Stop, we need to—” Billy’s lips now against her neck were intense, her fingers lifting the hem of Rosa’s jumper. “Hot chocolate. Your mother is…waiting.”
Like a bomb detonating, the word mother—and the image it brought with it—made Billy pause.
“That’s a passion killer if ever I heard one.”
Rosa laughed. “I’ll remember that next time I need you to stop mauling my neck like a horny teenager.”
“Can’t help myself, I just want to touch you.
It’s all I think about any time you’re away from me.
” Billy laughed and chased her around the island, coming up behind Rosa as she stopped and flicked the kettle back on.
Her arms threaded around Rosa’s waist, her lips finding Rosa’s neck again, this time playfully, teeth grazing, breath warm.
“Billy,” Rosa giggled, squirming as the kettle began to hiss.
“Oh. My. God!” The voice stopped them both in their tracks. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing?”
Billy and Rosa both turned and found Imogen standing in the doorway.