Page 116 of The Christmas Sisters

Page List


Font:  

“What I can’t believe,” Beth said, “is that Luke Palmer slept with you. That is a low thing to do.”

“Whittaker,” Posy snapped. “And you’re assuming that his interest in me was part of some devious scheme.” She hadn’t had time to digest the revelations of the past couple of hours herself, and she certainly wasn’t ready to talk about Luke with anyone. She felt confused, angry, betrayed, affronted and, yes, maybe a little foolish. It was the first time in a while she’d been intimate with anyone, and with Luke she’d shared more than she ever had before. And now, thanks to Beth, she was wondering if anything they’d shared had been genuine. “Frankly I wish I’d never told you. Sisters are not supposed to betray a confidence. Nor are they supposed to make you feel like crap.”

“These were exceptional circumstances,” Beth muttered. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was protecting you. I’m not going to sit around and watch some guy take advantage of my baby sister.”

“First, I’m not a baby. Second, I don’t see how something consensual and enjoyable can come under the heading of ‘taking advantage,’ and third, I do not need you or Hannah to protect me, although I have to say that the two of you working together is scarier than any rock face I’ve ever climbed.”

Aidan approached, his usual friendly smile on his face. “Beer for Posy, white wine for Beth—” He put the drinks on the table. “What can I get you, Hannah?”

“Sparkling water,” Hannah said. “Thanks, Aidan.”

Posy stared moodily into the fire.

When exactly would Luke have told her the truth? Would he have told her before the expedition? Maybe they would have been sharing a tent one night and he would have turned to her and said, By the way—

She’d thought they were close.

She’d thought they had a special connection.

She was an idiot.

“We should talk about this,” Beth said, “instead of drowning our sorrows.”

“The sorrows are mine.” Posy slumped in her chair. “And right now the only thing I want to drown is Luke.”

Had the whole thing just been about sex? And if that was what it was, how did she feel about that?

It wasn’t as if either of them had made promises.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything at the table, but do you think it’s possible you’re transferring your anger with Luke onto me?”

“No. You’re getting the anger you deserve.”

Beth looked chastened. “In that case I’ll drown my sorrows, too.” She glanced at Hannah. “Why are you drinking water? Do you have to be a killjoy? Can you stop being perfect for five minutes?”

“I’m not perfect. And I’m not telling you what to drink, so I don’t see how I’m a killjoy.” Hannah unwrapped her scarf from her neck, sending snowflakes fluttering.

Posy wondered when she intended to tell Beth she was pregnant. At this rate the baby would be born before Hannah told anyone. On the other hand, given Beth’s tendency to blurt out secrets whenever she felt like it, she couldn’t exactly blame Hannah for keeping her news to herself.

Aidan arrived back at their table with a bottle of water and a glass filled with lemon and ice. “Do you ladies want to eat?”

“Thanks, but we’ve had dinner.”

“If you had any of that yummy sticky toffee pudding, I could probably choke it down.” Beth tucked her bag by her chair and gave her sister a defensive look. “Thanks to our little family crisis, I didn’t finish my meal. Of course, that could have been because of the olive oil mash, which, as my daughter pointed out, tasted funny.”

Hannah crossed one slender leg over the other. “Do you know what butter does to your arteries?”

“It sets them up ready for sticky toffee pudding. Bring it on, Aidan. Better bring three spoons.”

“Two spoons,” Hannah said. “I don’t eat carbs.”

Posy thought about her conversation with Adam. “You eat pizza.” She reached for her beer and took several large swallows. “You dance around pizza.”

Hannah stared at her. “Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Forget it.” She couldn’t focus on Hannah right now; she was too busy feeling sorry for herself.

Hannah leaned forward and removed the bottle from her hand.


Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance