Chapter Eight #3
Imogen nodded. “So, although we enjoy each other’s company, our time together is limited.
” It wasn’t the most pleasant conversation to have over dinner, but it was one that they needed to have.
Imogen wasn’t a great one for going with the flow, which was what she had been doing up to now.
But she couldn’t let herself get carried away without addressing the expiration date that would eventually come.
Amy regarded her with a look of slight confusion. “Why does it have to be limited?”
Imogen frowned. Surely Amy knew what she meant. “Once you’re finished with this job then you’ll be leaving again.”
“Does that mean that you won’t ever speak to me again?” Amy asked with amusement.
“Of course not. But it does mean that you’ll be gone.”
“Oh, Imogen.” Amy set her fork down and leaned forward like she was about to say something really important. “I don’t go into things with a view of them being short-term. If that’s all they end up being, then fine. But it’s never my aim.”
Imogen’s throat suddenly felt thick, and she swallowed. “So, what does that mean?”
“It means that I don’t think of you as some sort of holiday fling.” Amy laced their fingers. “I know we’re still seeing where this goes, and if it does end up just being a fling, then fine. I’m enjoying it. But I like to think if something’s good then I can find a way to make it work somehow.”
“But how?” Imogen asked.
“I don’t know yet,” Amy said honestly. “But if you expect me to walk away when my job’s done and you never hear from me again then I need to tell you now, that’s not who I am. So, if you’re holding back for that reason, you don’t have to.”
Imogen’s heart picked up again. Amy was really good at making it do that. The pounding thing. “I’m really bad at not having a plan.”
Amy smiled at her fondly. “I already know that.” She ran her thumb up and down Imogen’s hand. “But do you think we can just enjoy each other for now? Give this a chance to see where it goes? With the knowledge that, although there’s no plan, it doesn’t have to end if we don’t want it to.”
Imogen looked at Amy for any signs of doubt or insincerity. For any of the red flags she should have been looking for in the past. But she saw nothing but compassion. Maybe even something deeper that she didn’t dare delve into yet. “No holding back?”
“No holding back.”
Imogen took a breath. “I’m in.” As if she had ever been anything but.
“And that’s another two hundred pounds you owe me,” Imogen said way too cockily for Amelia’s liking.
“What? I only have four hundred left!” Amelia was so bad at this game, but she had to confess she was still enjoying herself even though Imogen was totally wiping the floor with her. Who knew you could have an actual strategy for Monopoly?
“Then you’re going to be bankrupt very soon,” Imogen replied in a singsong voice. She held her hand out and Amelia reluctantly slapped the pretend money into it.
“There,” she said huffily. “Robbed me again with your stupid stations.”
Unfazed, Imogen carefully sorted the money into her neatly organised, bulging pile. “People underestimate the power of owning the stations.”
“We should have stuck to Scrabble,” Amelia muttered.
Imogen shot her a look. “No. We tried that, and you made up words that don’t exist.”
“I did not. You just didn’t know my words. It’s the language barrier.”
Imogen laughed. “Yeah. Because there’s such a language barrier between us English speakers. It’s not like I speak solely in the Irish language, you know.”
“Can you speak Irish?” Amelia asked. The thought hadn’t occurred to her. She hadn’t heard anyone speaking Irish in the time she’d been there. It mustn’t be a common practice.
Imogen grimaced. “I only remember like six words. And four of them are naughty ones.”
Amelia laughed. “Remind me to get you to teach me them when I haven’t had two glasses of wine, and I might actually be inclined to remember.
” She relaxed back into her spot on the sofa beside Imogen.
Amelia had crossed her legs underneath her, and her left knee was resting on Imogen’s thigh, whose legs were still stretched out in front of her.
They had a blanket draped around them, and there was some music playing softly on Imogen’s Bluetooth speaker in the background.
When they were quiet, Amelia could faintly make out some sounds from the bar down below them.
Glasses clinking, chairs moving. That sort of thing.
She hoped it was busy, but not too busy that Imogen would feel guilty for not being there.
“You okay?” Imogen asked, presumably because she’d gone quiet, lost in reflection of her own contentment.
“More than okay,” Amelia answered. “I was just thinking about how nice this is.”
Imogen looked around. “It is quite peaceful here. When the window’s open, you can even hear the sea. I won’t open it now though because we might freeze to death.”
Amelia smiled. “It is peaceful. But I meant that it’s nice being here with you.
” The only thing that continued to weigh her down was the secret she still carried.
Amelia was waiting for a perfect time to confess, and she now realised that it was never going to come.
It had nearly come during dinner when Imogen had asked about her work, but Amelia had steered the conversation away.
Again. Because she couldn’t face it. How could she risk ruining everything and losing Imogen so soon?
Amelia had meant every word that she had said to Imogen at dinner.
She was in this, with an open mind and an open heart.
But deep down, she knew that they could never truly become something until she was open about everything else too.
It was a case of being damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.
“It’s nice even though I’m about to beat you at Monopoly?” Imogen asked, vigorously shaking the dice in her hand.
Amelia turned her head. “It depends how you intend to make it up to me.”
Imogen rolled a six and made her way to one of her own properties, which meant no money for Amelia. How did she always manage to do that? Probably because she owned most of the board by now. Imogen turned to Amelia and gave her a grin. “I’m sure I can think of a way.”
“Oh yeah?” Suddenly eager to end the game, Amelia grabbed the dice and chucked them down on the table.
She moved her top hat forward the eight spaces she’d rolled and, unsurprisingly, landed on one of Imogen’s red properties with hotels on.
That was it. She was officially bankrupt—even selling both of her cheap-ass brown properties wouldn’t save her now.
“Oh well,” she said and willingly passed her last bank note over to Imogen.
“Look at that. I guess I’m ready for you to make it up to me already. ”
“Really?” Imogen said, tapping her lip. “I don’t know. You don’t seem too disappointed about losing. Maybe you’re fine after all.”
“No way, I’m very sad. Look.” Amelia put on her best pout. “See?”
Imogen chuckled. “I do see. You’re kind of adorable actually. Is it bad that I want to make you a wee bit sadder so I can see that face again?”
“You could do that. Or…” Amelia uncurled her legs from under her and in one swift move, swung herself across so that she was straddling Imogen. “We can do something else.” She smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Imogen replied softly.
She put her hands on the couch, one at either side of Imogen. “Did making it up to me look anything like this in your mind?”
“I mean, I was going to offer you a cuppa, but this is good too.”
Amelia poked her in the ribs. “You better stop making jokes and kiss me.”
Imogen laughed but didn’t hesitate. She ran her hands up Amelia’s back and pulled her down the rest of the way.
When their lips crashed together, everything else faded away.
Nerves, worries, reality. They could have been in Imogen’s apartment or on the moon.
Amelia wouldn’t have noticed which, because her entire being was consumed by the feeling of Imogen’s soft lips moving against her own.
She had never felt that way before when she’d kissed someone—that kind of oblivion.
Amelia was always aware. Of everything. It was basically impossible for her to switch off.
It didn’t matter if she was kissing someone because she wanted to or kissing someone because it was written in a script, Amelia knew exactly what was going on around her at all times.
But somehow, with Imogen, the total opposite seemed to happen.
Amelia had realised this right after they had shared their first kiss.
They’d been on top of a cliff—technically a public place, in the middle of the day.
Anyone could have stumbled on them. Steve had been stationed somewhere in the background.
Amelia should have been on high alert. Except, when they were kissing, Amelia hadn’t thought about any of that.
Instead, she had allowed herself to be completely taken over by Imogen and the way Imogen made her feel—which was pretty damn incredible.
When their kiss had ended it had taken several moments for Amelia to come back to herself.
That had to mean something, right? Losing yourself in someone that way?
That’s why this thing between them was too special to jeopardise.