Dougal was smiling but his smile faded when he saw Prentice’s face. When Prentice saw the humor die out of Dougal’s expression, he decided that tonight was not going to be about Prentice or Elle or Jason or his dead wife Fiona.
It had been about all that shit for far too long.
It was going to be about Dougal.
“Sorry, mate. Have a lot on my mind,” Prentice murmured, stepping away from the railing.
“I can tell,” Dougal replied softly.
Prentice came abreast of his friend then he smiled.
Then he said, “Let’s get you drunk.”
Dougal watched him closely.
Then Dougal grinned.
Then they went inside and got drunk.
Chapter Eight
Aromatherapy
Prentice
The taxi slid to a halt and Prentice paid Harry, the driver, a man he’d known his whole life.
He exited the car and walked up to his house, seeing most of the windows were dark but the outside light was on and he saw soft light shining from the windows in the vestibule.
Elle had lit his way.
Seeing that, the decision he’d made at the pub cemented in his brain.
He and Elle were going to talk.
And they were going to do it now.
Prentice was drunk. Not rat-arsed but he certainly was not sober.
And he didn’t give a f**k.
He opened the door, switched off the outside light, flipped the switch on the light in the vestibule and walked into the great room.
A soft light was burning from a brand new lamp by the couch.
She’d replaced the lamp.
He surveyed the room noting something was different and it wasn’t just the f**king lamp which he told her not to replace and he instantly remembered that Elle could be just as stubborn as Annie when she got something in that head of hers, hell, she could be more stubborn which was f**king saying something.
He narrowed his eyes and saw, to his shock, she’d also swept the wood floors. And there were fresh vacuum marks on the rugs where she’d hoovered. And she’d tidied away the bits and pieces the children had left lying around.
Fucking hell.
Yes, they were f**king well going to talk.
And they were f**king well going to do it now.
He pulled off his coat, threw it on the armchair Elle drunkenly advised him to move and walked directly down the hall and up the stairs to the guest suite.