Still sore from Gabe’s midnight…erm…feast, I packed away my clothes and toiletries, my suitcase closing with a squeak of the zip. He’d made pancakes but I was too jittery to stomach them, and I paced about the cabin instead, checking the time on my phone every few minutes. “Anyone would think you were wishing away our last hour,” he complained. “What if she just looks at us, and she sees?” I shuddered with panic. “Mums are good at that sort of thing.” “Danni.” He took me in his arms and pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m like your uncle. She thinks you’re gay. It doesn’t get much safer than that, theoretically speaking. She’s not going to take one look at you and ask you how much cock you’ve had this weekend.” “Good job too.” I smirked into his kiss. “I guess you really sorted me out, huh?” “You do seem to have lost the attitude.” “I hope so.” “I hope not, and then she’ll send you back for longer.” “Thought you—ahem—liked your own space?”
