Nan halts, shuffling the masses of white material between her arms. ‘Oh, so it’s just my age that suggests I should have some help, then, hmmm?’
I smirk when I see Nan hit Miller with a contemptuous look, making him shift awkwardly on his expensive shoes. ‘Not at all,’ he says, flicking pleading eyes to mine. I’m smug. Now he’s getting the gist. She can be a pain in the royal arse and I’ll remind him of this little scene when he chastises me for saying it as it is. ‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘Save it, mister,’ she spits, marching past him and giving me a devious wink. Then she stops in front of me and runs old eyes up and down my white towel. The one that’s covering my dignity. ‘I’m doing whites,’ she muses, holding back an impish grin.
‘Well this can go in the next load.’ I pull my towel in, narrowing my eyes in warning.
‘But this doesn’t make a full load.’ She gestures to the pile of washing in her arms with a minuscule nod of her head. ‘It’ll be a terrible waste of water and energy. I should fill the machine.’
My lips purse and hers curve. ‘You should fill your mouth so you can’t speak,’ I retort, making her grin widen. She’s incorrigible, the old minx.
‘Miller!’ she gasps. ‘Do you hear how she speaks to an old lady?’
‘I do, Mrs Taylor,’ he replies speedily, rounding her short, plump body until he’s standing behind me, looking at Nan’s now serious face over my shoulder. She’s a bugger, playing the old, sweet lady. I know better, and I’ll make sure Miller does, too. He bends and rests his chin next to my ear, his arm curling around my waist so his hand is splayed on my towel-covered tummy. ‘I have an apple in the car that’ll fit your mouth perfectly. Should do the trick.’
‘Ha!’ I laugh.
She gasps in horror, her face contorting in irritation. ‘Well!’
‘Well what?’ I ask. ‘Quit the defenceless old bird act, Nan. It’s past its sell-by date.’
She huffs and puffs on the spot, looking back and forth to me and Miller, whose chin is still settled on my bare shoulder. I take his hand on my tummy and squeeze, craning my head to get his delicious face in eyeshot. He smiles brightly and kisses me hard on the lips.
‘Respect!’ Nan squawks, snapping us out of our moment. ‘Give me that!’ She yanks the towel from my body.
‘Nan!’
She starts laughing menacingly as she bunches it up with the existing pile. ‘That’ll teach ya!’
‘Shit!’ I grab the first available thing in sight to cover my modesty . . . which happens to be Miller’s hands.
‘Oh!’ Nan bends over, chuckling uncontrollably as I slap Miller’s palms over my br**sts.
‘Well, hello again,’ he rasps in my ear, giving a little squeeze.
‘Miller!’
‘You put them there!’ he chuckles, making the most of my panic-induced error.
‘Bloody hell!’ I shrug him off and rush over to the bed, yanking at the covers until I’m concealed again. My face is flaming, Nan is in bits, and Miller isn’t helping, chuckling to himself. It’s the most beautiful sight, but my embarrassment and irritation won’t allow me to appreciate it for long. ‘Don’t egg her on!’ This is wrong on so many levels!
‘Sorry.’ He attempts to compose himself, pulling at his suit and brushing down his front, his shoulders still jiggling.
‘Nan, get out!’
‘I’m going, I’m going,’ she breathes tiredly as she trots towards the door. I know she’s just winked cheekily at Miller because he quickly diverts his straying eyes from her, and his lips have straightened. He’s also still rearranging his perfect suit, which isn’t unusual, but the frantic hand movements and tense shoulders are giving away what would be a normal undertaking as a diversion. I’m thoroughly unamused by the time she leaves, highly smug and tittering her way down the landing.
Fighting with the mass of material surrounding me, I march to the door and slam it behind her, sending Miller on a startled jump. He fails to hold back his delight any longer.
‘You’re supposed to be on my side,’ I snap, pulling at the material tangled at my feet.
‘I am,’ he laughs. ‘Honest, I am.’
I eye him moodily as he saunters over to me and whips the bedding away before he scoops me into his arms. ‘She’s a treasure.’
‘She’s a pain in the arse,’ I counter, and I don’t care if I get scorned for it. ‘What did she say?’
‘I told you, my manhood is at risk.’
‘That doesn’t mean you get to back her up for fear of losing it.’
‘I wasn’t backing her up.’
‘Yes, you were.’
‘If your grandmother is happy to expose your gorgeous na**d body in my presence, then I’m not going to complain about it.’ He carries me to the bed and settles on the edge with me spread across his lap. ‘In fact, I’ll be highly grateful for it.’
‘Don’t show your gratitude so willingly,’ I grumble. ‘And I love it when you laugh, but not at my expense.’
‘Would you prefer I showed you my gratitude?’
‘Yes.’ My reply is decisive and haughty. ‘Just me.’
‘Your request has been noted, Miss Taylor.’