The Love Nest by Rachel Cray

Author:Rachel Cray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: family secret, steamy romance
Publisher: Maryon Westerfield Publishing
Published: 2016-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

“I’M TAKING KELLY OUT to the pub tonight,” my father mentioned to my mother at the dinner table the following evening. “She’s been a bit jaded lately, and I thought a couple of drinks might cheer her up.”

“You might have told me earlier,” she replied. “I can’t go out dressed like this.”

“You’re not invited. It’s just me and my little girl. If it’s so important to you, we’ll take you along with us next week.” He winked at me.

“Your little girl, am I? Is that how you see me?” I chided him playfully.

“I wish! If only we could all turn the clock back,” he grinned.

“I’ll tell you why he’s taking you out,” my mother interjected. “He’s been getting broody lately. He wants you to get married and give him grandchildren.”

Father and I laughed, but that laughter soon evaporated. He’d found out something, and the time had at last arrived for me to be let in on the secret, whatever it was. He didn’t seem to hurry his meal, although he must have sensed my impatience.

By the time he was ready, and my mother was clearing away the plates from the table, it was almost an anticlimax when he rose and announced to my mother that we were going for our drink. “We won’t be too long,” he assured her.

I put on my coat and followed him out of the door. The pub was just ten minutes on foot from our home and, as soon as we were walking up the street, I was anxious to get him to share with me everything that he knew. “What have you managed to find out?”

“Let’s wait until we get there, shall we?” he said in his irritatingly relaxed manner. “There are a few things to take in, and this kind of business can’t be discussed out here in the street. Once we’re in the pub we’ll find a quiet corner and go through it all.”

When we arrived, we picked a table away from the crowd and he went up to the bar to buy the drinks. The place could do with some redecorating, I thought, and then reflected that a downturn in its prosperity might be a result of people’s preference to get their drinks at a supermarket and enjoy them at home over a meal or in front of the television. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d visited this pub, although I’d considered it a very popular venue some five years earlier when I was out with friends to celebrate the novelty of being allowed to drink alcohol , having turned eighteen.

“Here we are,” he said, setting down the drinks; he’d guessed I’d have a red wine – that was the only alcoholic drink I ever had at home – and he chose a pint of beer. Once he sat down, he leaned forward opposite me and smiled. “And now to business.”

I wondered whether – after all this long interval of waiting – I was going to be disappointed with what he was going to tell me.

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