Sun, Sea and Sangria by Victoria Cooke

Author:Victoria Cooke [Cooke, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2020-05-25T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

The sun streams through the window. I’m vaguely aware of hot skin pressing against my back. Rubbing my eyes, I roll over.

‘Morning, beautiful.’ Jay kisses my forehead tenderly.

I try to remember how he ended up in my bed and I can’t. I peek under the covers and gasp. ‘I’m in my underwear.’

Jay laughs softly. ‘That makes two of us.’

‘Did we …’

He shakes his head. ‘You wanted to, but I’m a gent and you were hammered.’

‘Cava. I remember lots of cava.’ My head is pounding.

‘And that was just the beginning.’

I sit up and the room starts to spin. Without warning, bile rises, and I dart to the bathroom just in time.

‘There were Jägerbombs too,’ Jay calls from the bed.

‘Shut up!’ The thought alone is enough to make me retch – I’m too old for Jägerbombs.

‘Sorry, do you want me to hold your hair?’ I look up and Jay is leaning casually against the doorframe. Even through my watery eyes, he looks good. All he has on is a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers, the fitted sort that grip his muscular thighs and leave little to the imagination. It’s wrong of me to imagine that whilst kneeling over the toilet with vomit dribbling down my chin. This is not my finest moment.

‘No, just go away and don’t look at me.’ I shoo him away.

He chuckles and mutters something about a glass of water before disappearing, leaving me to hit rock bottom in peace.

After a shower and a thorough brush of my teeth, I feel almost normal. I leave the bathroom and sit on the bed towel-drying my hair, as Jay is filling two cups with boiling water in the kitchen.

‘I made coffee,’ he says.

‘Please tell me it’s made with Alka-Seltzer.’

‘No, but I also found some full-fat Coke and there are some out-of-date Alka-Seltzers in your cupboard.’

‘You are what women want,’ I tease.

‘Oh, really?’ He climbs on the bed and straddles me then plants little kisses all over my face.

‘You didn’t bring any of the promised goods. You need to do better than that to defend your title of “what women want”.’

‘Fine.’ He huffs dramatically and goes to the kitchenette to find the tablets and fetch the coffee. I close my eyes and lay my head back. I don’t think drinking is for me anymore. The recovery period is too long.

‘Here you go, m’lady.’ He hands me my coffee on a saucer with two small pills at the side and puts a can of Coke on the bedside table.

As I take my pills, my phone rings. It’s a local number. ‘Hello?’

‘Kat, it’s Gaël from the Grand Canarian.’

‘Gaël, what can I do for you?’ I ask, sitting up straighter.

I hear him pull in a lungful of air. ‘There is no easy way to tell you this, Kat. I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel some of the bookings we’d made for the Heavenly Hunks.’

No. No. No. ‘What? Why?’

‘Fewer people have booked the events than usual. Tourism, on the whole, has taken a hit.

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