Chapter 11 #2
In the formal dining room, we line up before the judging table. Teddy cradles our glass in both hands, sleeves pushed to his elbows, a thread of concentration creasing his brow. Loreena’s pen hovers over her notepad; Tommy’s stopwatch sits beside the bell.
I watch as Ollie presents their creation with a flourish, Sam beaming beside him while Loreena and Tommy nod appreciatively. My stomach clenches. They look confident.
Liv and Garrett go next, and I see the judges smack their lips together in approval from their first taste.
Watching Loreena and Tommy drink the entire contents of Haley and Christian’s glass, I’m really worried, but it’s too late to do anything now. “Worry is a wasted emotion,” my father says, and much as I hate to agree with him, I shove mine aside.
When Teddy proudly sets our finished cocktail in front of the judges, all my frustration with him and my doubts about our chances seep away. The brief was to make a Christmas cocktail, and ours looks more like Christmas than any of the others.
The combination of ginger beer, vodka and cherry liqueur is a deep jewel-like red that catches the light.
Floating on top, the inch-high layer of glossy foam glistens bright white.
Balanced on the edge of the glass is a whole red cherry, like a giant holly berry.
Wrapped around it is a sprig of rosemary.
I braved the cold, venturing out to the herb garden just beyond the kitchen to find it.
It was worth freezing my tits off. It looks like a tiny pine bough, the perfect finishing touch.
Our judges say little, taking it in turns to sip at the glass thoughtfully, closing their eyes in pleasure, licking dots of foam off their lips.
Now they jot notes, and murmur between themselves, before adjourning to behind the large board where they’ve been keeping the points.
They scribble away, the squeak of a felt tip determining our fate.
We all stand, watchful. The sound of Christmas carols drifts from a small speaker, filling the tense silence.
I can hear the thump of my own heartbeat over the gentle melody.
The air feels thick with the kind of anticipation kids feel on Christmas Eve.
I know the others are going to hate us if we win again, but I can live with that.
However, it seems Loreena and Tommy can’t. When they flip the scoreboard, they’ve given Haley and Christian ninety-five points and the win. The rest of us are tactfully all tied for second place with ninety-two.
I suck it up and make sure I’m the first to wrap my friend in a hug.
“Congratulations, love,” I say, my arms tight around Haley’s shoulders. “You deserved it.” I draw back and point a determined finger at her. “But I’m still coming for you next time.”
“I’d expect nothing less from you, Rache,” Christian says with a wry smile. I punch him on the arm and then hug the big lump anyway. I kind of love this guy who’s made my friend so happy.
Everyone else crowds in, and I make space so they can give Haley and Christian credit for the win.
I wobble over to one of the sofas. The only thing I’ve eaten since breakfast is the spice cookie I nicked two hours ago, and all that taste-testing has gone to my head. Teddy settles beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pressing a kiss to my cheek.
“I’m sorry we didn’t win,” he murmurs against my ear, his warm breath brushing my neck. “And I’m sorry if it was my fault.”
“Not your fault,” I slur, dropping my head to rest on his comfortable chest. “You did great. Except…think I’m a little pissed.”
He chuckles. “Well, you did insist on checking every step.”
“But I had to check,” I mumble, my eyes growing heavy. “Can’t trust you.”
“Small sips, Trouble, not great big gulps.”
“Who’s Trouble? I’m delightful.” I try to lift my head; the ceiling swims. “Why’m I… Trouble?”
He hums something soothing. “Later,” he says.
“Right. Later,” I agree, immediately losing the thread.
I feel the rumble of his laugh; it settles me. He’s so warm, so nice, so…
I wake with a jolt, disoriented. My feet don’t feel like they’re on the ground.
It’s as if my body’s floating. No, I am floating.
I’m being carried, bump, bump, bump up the stairs, my head lolling with each step.
The swaying motion makes my stomach flip-flop—whether from the alcohol sloshing inside it or from being cradled against a muscular chest, I can’t tell.
I prise my eyes open and find Teddy’s face above me, mouth in a determined line, eyes fixed ahead.
“Teddy,” I moan, and his eyes jerk down to me.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he murmurs, smiling down at me. “Hang on a minute—we’re nearly there.”
“Nearly where?” I blink, but all I can see is white ceiling.
“Your bedroom. I’m putting you to bed.”
“Why?” I ask through the fog. My brain is thick, and firing way too slow.
“Because you fell asleep on the sofa. Because you were snoring.”
“Oh, no,” I groan. “No.” The flush of humiliation clears the fog a little.
“It’s okay. It was kinda cute, to be honest.”
He comes to a halt, and I feel him hesitate as he fumbles at the door.
How the hell he’s managing to support my weight with one arm when I’m nearly the same size as him I don’t know, but he doesn’t drop me on my head.
His arm swoops back beneath me, and we move forward.
I reach out and flick the switch as we pass; the room floods with light.
He sets me down on the edge of my bed, steadying me with hands on my shoulders as I sway slightly. The room spins just a touch, but not enough to mask how close he is, how his fingers feel warm through my thin jumper.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe how hard the alcohol hit me.” A tiny hiccup escapes, bringing a sour taste to my throat.
“Well, you did skip dinner.” He gently swipes a strand of hair away from my face. “Alcohol on an empty stomach. You’ll be wasted before you know it.”
He’s right; I skipped dinner so I could sneak upstairs to answer emails, then drank my bodyweight in samples. Fuck. I’m definitely a bit pissed.
“Yeah. Stupid.” I shake my head and grit my teeth as the room seesaws.
“You’ll feel better in the morning. Hopefully no hangover, so we can ride. Text me if you’re keen, yeah?”
Teddy starts to pull away, but I catch his wrist.
“Don’t go.”
He goes very still. “Rachel…”
“I mean it.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “Stay with me, please?” I tug at his hand, wanting him closer. I’m so over dealing with the way he’s hedging around me. Teddy is in my room and damned if I’m going to let him leave, even if I have to beg.
For a moment, his resolve wavers. I see it in the way his eyes blacken and his gaze drops to my mouth. He takes a half-step closer, and my heart hammers against my ribs.
“You don’t know how much I want to,” he whispers, tracing his thumb across my lips. I inhale the nearness of him, the scent of him all vanilla and spice, and that unique musky maleness that I’ve missed so badly. “But not like this. Not when you’ve had too much to drink.”
“I’m not that drunk,” I protest, even as the room tilts when I lean towards him.
He snorts and huffs out a laugh. “You fell asleep mid-sentence downstairs. And then there was the snoring.”
“That’s not fair,” I mumble, heat rushing up my cheeks. No wonder he doesn’t want to stay. I must have looked a right picture.
“What’s not fair,” he says, crouching down to eye level, “is how beautiful you look right now, and how much I want you. I want to peel this right off you.” His long fingers brush the neck of my jumper.
“And I’d love nothing more than to cup this in my hand.
” His thumb traces a delicate, lazy spiral over my breast. My nipple swells under his touch, and I shiver.
He trails a hand down my stomach and along my thigh, resting there, heat radiating from his palm right to my core.
“And what I most want to do is rip these right off and see how you taste.” He runs a finger along the seam of my jeans, voice a low rasp.
A shudder rolls through me. Then he pulls back.
“But I won’t—not now. Because when I do, I want you to remember every second of it.
” The certainty in his voice makes my breath catch.
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead instead, lingering just long enough to make me ache for more. “Now get some sleep. And text me in the morning if you want that ride. Goodnight Trouble.”
There it is again—Trouble. If anyone else said it, I’d object. From him, I let it slide with a sleepy smile.
He’s almost to the door when I call after him. “Teddy?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re a good man.”
His mouth quirks in a half smile. “Don’t sound so surprised.”