Rosaline Palmer Takes the Cake (Winner Bakes All #1) - Alexis Hall Page 0,115
“in case of emergency” list. Lauren and Allison were a no-go because they were already looking after Amelie, and she didn’t want one of her daughter’s most abiding childhood memories to be the time she was dragged out of bed at midnight to rescue Mummy from a threesome gone wrong. And her own parents . . . Well, even if they hadn’t been busy that evening, she’d rather fuck Liv.
She stared at her phone. And made the only call she could. After all, they were friends. Basically friends. It would be fine.
“You all right?” said Harry, picking up after a couple of rings. “Your electrics gone out again?”
“No. Not exactly.”
“If it’s the water, I can get a mate round, but probably not ’til tomorrow.”
Okay, that bit where she told herself it was fine? Not fine. Because her mum had been right for years: being in a situation where you needed a guy to rescue you just fucking sucked. “Harry, I’m sorry to ask. But I’m at Alain’s. Can you come and get me?”
“Has something happened?”
“Yes. No. Sort of.”
“You safe, mate?”
“I’m . . . locked in the bathroom.”
Mercifully, he didn’t ask any further questions. “All right. Stay there. Send me the address. I’ll be with you as soon as I can. I’ll text you when I’m outside.”
Rosaline let out a trembly breath. “Okay. Thanks.” She didn’t want to hang up. But she couldn’t afford to run the battery of her mobile down. “Um. Bye? See you soon.”
It was not the best two hours of Rosaline’s life. Alain had made another attempt to convince her she was being silly for not wanting to help him live out some fantasy he must have been cooking up in his head since they’d first met. But after the third time she’d told him to fuck off he’d given up. Leaving her to stare at her phone in peace, until she heard the rumble of a van outside and saw a text pop up.
Here, it said.
Which was exactly the word she needed to see right then.
Rosaline heard the doorbell jingle. Then the hum of conversation below. And footsteps in the downstairs hall.
She’d been wanting to leave Alain’s bijou sex cottage since, if she was honest, some time before Liv had taken her kit off. But now the moment had come, she was finding it hard to move. Pulling herself up on the towel rack, she got unsteadily to her feet and unlocked the door as quietly as she could.
“—the fuck are you doing?” Alain was saying.
“Come to get Rosaline.”
“Rosaline’s my guest. I’m not going to let you drag her off in the middle of the night.”
“She asked me to come pick her up.”
Alain, as far as Rosaline could tell from his back and the tone of his voice, seemed genuinely surprised by this. “Whatever for? We had a bit of a misunderstanding, but we’re having a perfectly pleasant evening.”
“Not my call, mate.”
“Well, I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey, but—”
“I’m here.” Rosaline hurried down the stairs. “Let me get my bag and coat.”
“Rosaline, darling, you’re not leaving?” called Liv plaintively from the living room. “We were just getting started.”
So she was still pissed then.
“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re trying to do here.” Alain took a step forward, looking down at Harry in a way that made it very clear he was the taller of the two. “You’ve been after her for weeks.”
“Alain, mate. I can see you’ve had a few. We’re all tired. But I’m gonna ask you to take a step back, please.”
“Take a step back? It’s my own fucking house. And you have no fucking right to be here.”
Harry had lifted his hands in the universal symbol of Chill out. “I’m not in your house. I’m on your doorstep. And I’m about to leave.”
Coat bundled under one arm and bag clutched to her chest, Rosaline squeezed past Alain and out into the night. “Okay, let’s go.”
“You got it, mate.” Harry turned, but Alain seized him by the sleeve of his T-shirt and yanked him back.
“Do you think,” he sneered, “I’m going to let you walk away with my fucking girlfriend.”
That brought Rosaline up short. “Sorry, do you still think I’m your girlfriend after everything that’s happened?”
“I wasn’t talking to you, Rosaline.” Alain tightened his grip as Harry tried to step away.
“Don’t wanna be rude”—although Harry’s voice was low, Rosaline thought she could see tension in his neck and shoulders—“but I’m gonna need you to take your hand off me.”