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Truth Or Date. Portia MacIntosh
Читать онлайн.Название Truth Or Date
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781474049610
Автор произведения Portia MacIntosh
Жанр Современные любовные романы
Издательство HarperCollins
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
‘You look good in red,’ Nick tells me, stifling a laugh.
Were I not so happy to have just tied the knot with the love of my life, I would’ve climbed the nearest palm tree, removed the biggest coconut I could find and thrown it at my darling hubby because, as much as I love him, I hate it when he’s right. Last week as we shopped for the few last bits for our honeymoon, I dragged Nick into Hollister where I saw this beautiful cream sundress. I knew that it would be perfect for our trip to Hawaii, but Nick didn’t seem convinced. He just doesn’t buy into fashion, he’s one of those guys who just doesn’t get it, whereas I’m the kind of girl who would swap a kidney for a Hermès bag. It wasn’t so much the price Nick took issue with (although he did say it was a lot of money for very little material), what he worried about most was the fact the dress was cream.
‘You’ll spill,’ he told me as I admired it on its hanger.
‘Fuck off,’ I replied.
‘You will,’ he insisted. ‘You’re the messiest girl in the world.’
Of course, this just made me want the dress all the more, so I bought it and here we are, the first day of our honeymoon and I’ve spilled my Lava Flow cocktail all the way down the front. Just like Nick said I would.
Nick retrieves the chunk of pineapple that garnished my drink from my cleavage and pops it in his mouth.
‘I told you you’d spill on it,’ he chuckles. ‘It’s a miracle you didn’t spill on your wedding dress.’
‘That’s because I couldn’t eat in it,’ I admit, although it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. ‘If I so much as inhaled too deeply, it felt like it might burst open – and flashing my boobs on my wedding day is just the kind of Carry On moment you expect of me. None of the glossy wedding mags prepare you for the fact that your wedding dress will be the most uncomfortable thing you’ll ever wear.’
‘Yeah, they don’t warn you that the first thing your new bride will do when she gets to the honeymoon suite will be hurry off her dress before pillaging the minibar either.’
I scoop some of the cocktail slush from my chest and flick it at Nick’s bare stomach. He just laughs, lying back on the sand to catch some rays.
‘Throw it in the sea,’ he suggests. ‘Back to its natural habitat. I’ll bet it has missed the sound of the waves in the shop – so stupid.’
‘Leave Hollister out of this,’ I snap, jokily.
I peel off my dress, lie down on the sand next to Nick and rest my head gently on his bicep.
‘I’ll tan weird if you cuddle me,’ he laughs, the sweltering heat from the Hawaiian sun beaming down on us.
‘You’ll get over it,’ I reply.
Lying here with the man of my dreams, with nothing but the peaceful sound of the ocean filling my ears and the delicious smell of strawberries filling my nostrils, I sigh and smile to myself. I am so disgustingly happy.
Unable to resist him a second longer, I climb on top of Nick, leaning forwards to kiss him passionately. He places his hands on my hips before running them slowly up my body. I part our lips, but only so I can moan softly at his touch.
‘I love you, Nick,’ I tell him.
‘I love you too, Ruby,’ he replies. ‘Ruby…Ruby…Ruby…’
Nick’s voice grows louder, louder still and then more aggressive. It sounds like he’s pissed off, come to think of it.
‘Ruby,’ he shouts. ‘Wake up.’
I jolt awake suddenly, sitting upright.
‘What the hell?’ he asks, angrily.
I glance around for a second, taking in my surroundings… I’m not in Hawaii at all, I’m in my living room. I’m not wearing a bikini, I’m in my underwear. I’m not lying on a beach, I’m on top of Ben, a guy I’ve been seeing for a couple of weeks. Oh, and Nick isn’t my husband, he’s my flatmate. My boring, stuck up, joyless flatmate that I can’t stand. And I was just having a sex dream about him – eww! I feel my cheeks flush with shame – not because he’s caught me semi-naked with a bloke, but because I was dreaming about him. That I was in love with him, that I’d married him… I was about to have sex with him!
‘What time is it?’ I ask him, rubbing my tired eyes, only to cover my hands in black eye make-up.
‘It’s 7am,’ he tells me, his eyes shooting laser beams of judgement at me as he glares. Luckily for me I’m used to Nick looking down his nose at me, and anyway, the sheer volume of body glitter I’m wearing can easily deflect even the strongest laser.
‘What day is it?’ I ask.
Nick shakes his head and sighs.
‘Friday. It’s Friday, Ruby.’
‘Oh fuck, I’m at work in an hour,’ I reply as I massage my temples, my hangover from last night now in full force.
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