Home for the holidays…

Icing gingerbread men, arranging handmade toys and making up countless Christmas wreaths in her family’s cosy little Christmas shop isn’t usually globe-trotter Lexi’s idea of fun. But it’s all that’s keeping her mind off romance. And, with a broken engagement under her belt, she’s planning to stay well clear of that for the foreseeable future…until gorgeous single dad Cal Martin walks through the door!

Christmas takes on a whole new meaning as Lexi begins to see it through Cal’s adorable five-year-old son’s eyes. But, finding herself getting dangerously close to the mistletoe with Cal, Lexi knows she needs to back off. She’s sworn off love, and little George needs a stability she can’t provide. One day she’ll decide whether to settle down again – just not yet.

But the best little Christmas shop in this sleepy, snow-covered village has another surprise in store…

The Best Little Christmas Shop

Maxine Morrey

ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES

Contents

Cover

Blurb

Title Page

Author Bio

Acknowledgements

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Endpages

Copyright

MAXINE MORREY

has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember and wrote her first (very short) book for school when she was ten. Coming in first, she won a handful of book tokens – perfect for a bookworm!

She has written articles on a variety of subjects, aswell as a book on Brighton for a Local History publisher. However, novels are what she loves writing the most. After self publishing her first novel when a contract fell through, thanks to the recession, she continued to look for opportunities.

In August 2015, she won Harper Collins/Carina UK’s ‘Write Christmas’ competition with her romantic comedy, ‘Winter’s Fairytale’.

Maxine lives on the south coast of England, and when not wrangling with words loves to read sew and listen to podcasts. As she also likes cake she can also be found either walking or doing something vaguely physical at the gym.

Her website is: www.scribblermaxi.co.uk

Email: scribblermaxi@outlook.com

You can also find her on Twitter @Scribbler_Maxi

On Facebook www.facebook.com/MaxineMorreyAuthor

On Instagram @Scribbler_Maxi

On Pinterest @ScribblerMaxi

Thank you, as always, to James who continually believes in me, even when I don’t believe in myself, and for happily listening to me rattle on about imaginary people. Your love and support is what keeps me thinking I might actually be able to do this.

Also, a big thanks to my editor, Clio Cornish. This book was a bit of a pickle at times, refusing to behave and I am so grateful to her for believing in it and helping bring it to fruition. Her kindness and willingness to listen has been incredibly appreciated. I’m so sorry we missed out on that cake and hope to rectify the situation very soon.

I’d also like to thank the friends that have listened to the worries and accepted the cancelling of plans as deadline approached with good grace and understanding. Special thanks goes to Rachel Burton for her listening ear, wise words and brilliant humour.

And finally, I want to say a huge thank you to my readers. I still can’t quite believe I get to do this and I know that none of it would be possible without you. For that support, I am eternally grateful. Thank you.

For José

Chapter One

I dropped my bag on the floor, flopped face down onto my childhood bed, and let out a groan. This was so not how it was supposed to be. But then I’d learned that there were some things in life that no matter how much you planned or wanted them, just weren’t to be.

Letting out a sigh, I wriggled over onto my back, staring up at the ceiling blankly for a moment before dragging myself up and wandering over to the squishy sofa that sat beneath the window, snagging my furry slipper boots on the way. Plopping down into the softness, I pulled the boots on before turning to look out of the window. Folding my arms across the back of the sofa, I leant my chin on them and peered out into the last vestiges of daylight.

My room was separate from the rest of the house – a self-contained studio flat above the garage that my parents had created for me in my early teenage years, providing an escape from my three brothers. Not that we didn’t get on – I was lucky in that respect. But a girl still needs her own space and, more importantly, her own bathroom. The fact that Mum often used to come and sit with me clued me in to the idea that I wasn’t the only one using it as respite from all that testosterone.

Mum and Dad had always wanted a girl. They never planned to have four kids and I was definitely a last-ditch attempt so there was some relief when I popped out. From the time I was born, I’d been dressed in, and surrounded by, more pink than was really acceptable, even for a very girly girl. And therein lay the problem. I was, very definitely, not the girliest of girls. I could have the prettiest dresses and the cutest little bunches but I was still coming home covered in mud, with scrapes on my knees and a big grin on my face.

To their eternal credit, Mum and Dad were never disappointed and had never tried to force me into doing something I didn’t want to, or stop me doing the things I did. Trailing along after my brothers – Matt, Dan, and Joe – up to their elbows in car parts and wood and oil and mud, I was at my happiest. It was hardly a surprise then that my choice of career wasn’t traditionally feminine either, and after years of working my way up, I had been well on my way to becoming Chief Engineer for the number one driver in our team. But “had been” was definitely the operative term.

My eyes drifted to the corner of the sofa where my old, much-repaired teddy bear lounged comfortably. I reached out and pulled him to my chest, folding my arms across him as my mind drifted back over the past year. I’d spent the best part of it trying to find another place that fit me so well as the Formula One world had, but after going from place to place, had come up with nothing that felt quite the same.

I was therefore, at present, effectively unemployed. I’d been lucky enough to have never been in the position before and it was a distinctly odd feeling and definitely not one I was comfortable with.

I let my gaze drift down to where weak, cloud-shrouded moonlight was now highlighting the bare branches of the huge honeysuckle bush that sat beneath the window. In the summer, its heady, intoxicating scent would drift up and fill the space. Now it just looked spiky, bare, and barren. There was a knock at the door and I rolled my head to see my eldest brother, Matt, enter carrying my case and another smaller bag.

‘Where d’you want these?’

I shrugged. ‘There’s fine. Thanks, Matt.’

He gave me a glance, ignored my instructions, and carried the luggage across the room, laying them next to the off-white French-style wardrobe and chest of drawers.

‘Any chance of a cuppa?’

I let out another sigh and dragged myself off the sofa and over to the tiny kitchenette. It had rarely been used for anything more than a sandwich and endless cups of tea and hot chocolate because, although I might have wanted a little independence all those years ago, I also knew that my mum was pretty much the best cook in the world.

Big family dinners were our thing. It didn’t have to be a special occasion. The everyday was special in our house. It was fun, sometimes noisy – OK, always noisy – with plenty of discussion and a lot of laughter. I think that’s why I’d enjoyed the team atmosphere of work. We’d got on well and, being away from my family so much, it had provided me with a surrogate one.

I boiled the kettle and pulled a couple of mugs out of the cupboard whilst Matt grabbed a pint of milk from the mini fridge that Mum had clearly stocked up earlier in the day.

‘I’d ask if you’re glad to be home but it’s pretty clear from your face that you’re not,’ Matt said as he plopped milk into our tea.

‘What?’ I looked up at him, genuinely horrified. ‘Of course I am!’

‘OK.’ He took a slurp, watching me over the rim of the mug. ‘But you are aware you’ve got a face like a slapped bum?’

I rolled my eyes at him, picked up my mug, and took it back to the sofa, pulling the handmade quilt draped across the back of it over my legs as I sat down. Matt sat next to me, his mere presence calming me as it always had. He and I had always had a special bond. As the eldest, he’d seen it as his job to take care of all his siblings but especially me as the youngest, and being a girl. It didn’t matter how many times I tried to tell him not to treat me differently, I always got that little bit of extra attention from him. And secretly I loved it. Whatever happened, I always knew Matt would have something wise and comforting to say.

‘So, guess you’re really stuffed on your career then if you’re home?’

All right. Maybe not always.

I gave him a stony look. ‘Thanks for that.’

He shrugged and took a sip of tea. ‘I’m sure you’ve got a plan. You always do, no matter what life throws at you.’

I lowered my eyes and watched a traitorous tear splosh into my drink.

‘Lex?’

‘Hmm?’ I kept my gaze lowered.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Matt put his mug down to the side of the sofa and reach out to take mine. I made a half-hearted attempt to hang on to it for a moment but gave up. I was tired. It had been a long day of travelling and really, I was just tired of all of it, of putting on a brave face for everyone, pretending that everything was under control when the truth was quite the opposite. Matt tilted and dipped his head, forcing me to look at him.

‘What is it?’

I just shook my head. ‘I don’t have a plan, Matt. I’ve tried everything. No one wants to take me on. As far as they’re concerned, I bailed on the team and broke my contract and all the previous years of utter and absolute commitment mean absolutely nothing. I’ve tried everyone I can think of. I thought normal stuff would be OK but just doing MOTs and basic repairs nearly sent me insane within a couple of weeks. I literally don’t have a clue what to do now. I’m effectively homeless, jobless, and I’ve apparently totally burned my bridges in the racing world. You’re right. I’m stuffed.’

Matt took a deep breath, reached over one brawny arm, and scooped me up against him, wrapping the other one around me as I flopped dejectedly onto his chest.

‘You’re not stuffed. Something will work out. It might not be what you originally had in mind but it doesn’t necessarily mean it won’t be just as good. And you’re neither homeless nor jobless. You’ve got a home here – and you always will have. You’re not jobless either. The shop opens at nine tomorrow morning and there’s a tonne of Christmas wreaths that need to be made up. Since we got featured in that fancy magazine, the orders have shot up. We’re all chasing our tails trying to keep up with the demand and get everything out in time. I know you’re not thrilled to be home, but we’re thrilled you’re here.’

‘Only because you’re short-staffed,’ I grumped.

Matt gave me a squeeze. ‘Don’t be a grouchy arse. You know that’s not the only reason. It’s nice to have you here. We all miss you.’

My eyes started filling again. ‘I missed you all too.’ I shoved myself up and turned back to face him. ‘And please don’t think I’m not happy to be home. I am. You know I am. I guess it’s just in different circumstances than I thought it might be. I feel a bit like … I’m not sure who I am right now.’

Matt gave a half laugh. ‘Lexi. You are you. You’re not, and never will be, defined by what job you do. You’re fun, intelligent, and apparently some blokes think you’re sort of pretty so –’

I stuffed a cushion over his face and he waggled his arms and legs about comically and I found myself laughing properly for the first time in what felt like months. In fact, it probably was months. I took the cushion down, and Matt took big, dramatic breaths, his eyes wide.

‘You daft sod.’ I leant in on my knees and gave him a big hug. ‘Thanks, big brother. I really missed you.’

Matt dropped a kiss on top of my head. ‘I know you did. I’d miss me too.’

I sat back and shoved the cushion at him. He grabbed his tea and finished the last of it before picking up both the mugs and rinsing them out in the tiny sink.

‘Come on. Mum’s got a lasagne big enough to feed the whole village over there. Everyone else should be here by now too.’

I hesitated in the quick brush I was giving my hair as part of the attempt I was making to pretend that I was totally put together and hadn’t just been having a blub. Not that it mattered. They’d all see straight through me anyway. Just like Matt was doing now.

‘Whatever it is you’re thinking, don’t,’ Matt said.

‘They’re going to think I’m a failure. That I should have made better decisions.’

‘Lex. They’re not. Not one person thinks that. At least not one person who matters. You made the only decision you could.’

He was right. Deep down I knew that. Not that it made things any easier.

‘Stop thinking about it now. It’s done. And I’m hungry so stop faffing and come on.’

I tossed the brush onto my bed and headed for the door. ‘Nag, nag, nag,’ I mumbled as I passed him, neither of us bothering to hide the big grins on our faces. As much as it was scary in one way, it felt unbelievably good to be home.

Chapter Two

A week later I was still up to my eyeballs in Christmas wreaths and in full realisation of what Matt had meant when he’d said orders had soared. The Four Seasons had started life as a quirky little gift shop many years ago – opened by my newlywed parents. It had a USP before that was even a thing in that it followed the seasons. In summer, it was stuffed to the roof with bunting, picnic blankets and baskets, tiki lamps, parasols and everything else you could think of, and plenty you hadn’t, for a perfect summer’s day.

But now, in the grips of winter, it was overflowing with Christmas-related goodies and a warm, cosy ambiance. This was enhanced by a massive tree that had only just fit in the door and was topped off with classy but festive instrumental music playing softly in the background.

Much of the stock was locally made, some by my family, others by friends, and the rest sourced from artisans both here and abroad. My parents had always loved discovering and nurturing new talent, although since Dad’s heart scare a couple of years ago they’d stepped back a little and my brothers now took it in turns to do the travelling for this side of the business, cramming it in around everything else including their families.

From a little shop in the village, over the last forty years, the business had grown into a very successful online one too and my brothers still had more plans for it.

The shop was part of my childhood, part of the fabric of my life. I’d actually taken my first steps in it, and growing up, I’d help choose new stock for the next season. Talking shop was never banned at our dinner table. It was positively encouraged. My brothers and I had been chief toy testers for many years and now my nieces and nephews had taken over that mantle.

Even though my own career had taken me out of the country for over half the year, my family had always made sure I was still included as much as I had the time for. Mum would email me a few pictures, or send me some product samples, asking what I thought. Depending on my mood, and how far away from home I was at the time, it was sometimes a bittersweet experience. I loved that they made a point of keeping me involved in any way they and I could manage, but I knew that had I been closer, I’d have been sat around the big, timeworn pine table discussing that same product with my family in person. Laughing, teasing, talking. And the truth was, I’d never stopped missing that.

Running a business was hard work but the shop had grown along with our family and, as such, it was almost another family member. Even when it took nearly every minute of our time, we loved it. And, much to my surprise, I now found myself sat back behind the project desk next to the till and experiencing exactly what Matt had meant about orders having shot up.

I put aside a completed wreath, gave a glance around my currently quiet surroundings, smiling at the warm fuzzies it set off somewhere deep in my soul, and began work on the next one.

Winding mistletoe around the main structure, I held it up, eyeballing it and sussing where the holly would go. The process was remarkably soothing and although I’d been doing much the same thing for the past week, in between serving customers, I’d felt some of the tension I’d been carrying around for a long time very slowly begin to ebb out of me.

Creating was good for the soul my parents had always said, and although I’d been taught some basic skills, I’d always been more interested in tinkering with the old Jag Dad had in the garage below my room. It was one of those projects he always meant to get around to but never had, and then his heart attack had happened. It had been a huge scare for all of us. Dad had always seemed full of life and indestructible – big and broad like my brothers – but his heart attack had brought us down to earth and now we all fussed him probably a little too much for his liking.

But, thank goodness, he’d been sensible and my parents took the opportunity to step back a little, leaving much of the day-to-day running to Dan and the others. And leaving the Jag to me. But it was still sat in much the same condition as when he’d given it to me. I just never seemed to get the time to do anything on it. During the times that I did get to visit home, I wanted to be with my family and friends, catching up on everything I’d missed, not stuck out on my own in a chilly garage. As much as I loved cars, and that Jag particularly, I loved my family more.

Who knows? Maybe now that the career I’d worked so hard to build was swirling around the plughole, I might finally have the time to do something on it. Not exactly the way I’d planned things to go but still. Although I loved the shop and had worked in here since I could remember, possibly as more of a hindrance than help in my early years, I never thought for a moment that I’d be sat back here in my thirties. A sharp jab in my thumb from a particularly robust holly leaf brought me painfully out of my reverie.

‘Oh f –’ I glared at the leaf now firmly attached to my digit. And then I looked over it and directly into the wide, soft grey eyes of a little boy around five years old who was regarding me curiously. Behind him stood a pair of long, indigo-denim-clad legs. My gaze followed them up and I found myself on the end of an intense stare from a similar pair of eyes.

But these were a much stormier grey, set in the ridiculously good-looking face of a man I assumed to be the boy’s father. I cleared my throat and swallowed my words, making a mental note to get one of my brothers to fix a bell to the back of the door as soon as possible.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.’

The man quirked a dark brow almost imperceptibly. ‘Evidently.’ His expression was firmly set to unamused. I gave him a fixed smile and looked back to my desk, hoping he’d leave to go and practise his ninja shopping skills elsewhere. The young boy’s eyes were focused on my hands as I picked up the holly again, a little more carefully this time.

‘Come on, George, let’s –’

‘What are you doing?’ George asked, seemingly not hearing his father and sitting the teddy he’d been holding on the table at the end of my supplies so that he could observe too.

I smiled at them both, almost expecting the father to repeat his request to leave but he remained silent, evidently happy to let George’s curiosity be fulfilled and probably aware that the glare he’d given me moments earlier was enough to stop me even thinking about swearing again for the rest of my life. Well, at least until they left anyway.

‘I’m making Christmas wreaths for people to hang on their doors.’

His eyes widened as his fingers reached out and touched the mistletoe. ‘It’s real?’

‘It is. Mind the holly though. That can be a bit spiky.’ I risked a glance up through my lashes and met his father’s eyes, a glimmer of a smirk on a mouth that some might call tempting. I’d probably call it that too but I already had way too much to worry about.

‘We had one like that last year but it was plastic.’

‘Some of those can be very nice too.’ I smiled.

‘Not as nice as yours,’ George said, moving to peer around me at the others he had now noticed hanging behind, ready for shipping out later.

‘Thank you.’

George came around the front of my desk again and watched for a moment as I continued to work. His father had taken a couple of steps away and was now looking at the rows of chutney, fudge, and other delicious temptations on the shelves to my right.

‘I do like your bear,’ I said to George. ‘Does he have a name?’

‘He’s just called Bear.’

‘That sounds like the perfect name to me.’ I gently took Bear’s paw and shook it. ‘It’s very nice to meet you, Bear.’

George giggled. ‘I’m George.’

I shook his hand in the same way. ‘My name’s Lexi. It’s very nice to meet you too.’

George smiled. ‘This is my daddy.’

‘Hello, Daddy … I mean …’

Oh God, that sounded so weird!

He put his hand out. ‘Cal is fine.’

I nodded and took it, aware that I now had cheeks as red as the wooden painted elves swinging their little rope legs off the shelf behind me.

Unaware of my embarrassment, George turned his attention back to his teddy. ‘Bear’s got a poorly head.’

‘Oh! Oh dear. Yes, he does look a little sorry for himself. Did he have an accident?’

George pulled his toy back off the table and cuddled him around his squidgy middle, the teddy’s head hanging decidedly lopsided and looking dangerously insecure as the little boy nodded in response. ‘Yes. I accidentally shut his head in the car door and it came off when I walked away.’

‘Oh!’

He pulled his mouth to the side. ‘I know. I was very upset but Daddy mended him for me.’ His little hand snaked into his father’s large one and he looked up, pride on his face. I smiled at them both, and noticed a slight flush on the man’s cheeks as he looked down at his son. A feeling I didn’t want to deal with began creeping into my brain and I squinched it down before it could take hold.

‘Come on, George. Let Lexi get on with her work now and come and help me choose some decorations for the tree. We’ll take another look at Bear later and see what we can do.’

George gave me a smile and moved his bear to his free hand. The bear’s head lurched again and I winced, half expecting it to plop off and roll across the pale sanded floorboards of the shop. Luckily it stayed in place but I didn’t have great hopes for that state lasting very long. I chewed my lip for a moment.

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’ I asked George.

He shook his head. ‘No. But I’d like some!’

I swallowed a grin. With a dad who looked like his did I was pretty sure the odds were quite favourable on that front. I glanced up and met a wary gaze.

‘I have three brothers,’ I began as the little boy listened, ‘and when we were younger, sometimes we would argue and occasionally my teddy would get caught in the middle of it.’

‘Was he trying to stop you arguing?’

‘Umm … yes, I think he probably was.’ I risked a look up at the man. The storm had gone from his eyes now and a hint of amusement played there instead. ‘Anyway, sometimes teddy would be in need of a bit of repair so I ended up training as a Teddy Bear Surgeon. I am, in fact, fully qualified.’ From the corner of my eye, I saw that delicious mouth quirk again.

‘You are?’ George asked, his eyes widening.

‘I am.’

This wasn’t exactly too far from the truth. All right, I didn’t have paper qualifications but I’d had plenty of practice. My youngest brother Joe had gone through a phase of yanking off bits of my bear whenever we were arguing. We were the closest in age and the most likely to get into a big barney. After repairing Ted three or four times, my mum had given up and said that if we were going to destroy things, we were also going to have to repair them. So, I’d learned how to sew and my teddy, although slightly wonky, was definitely more robust when he went in for the next round.

‘Do you think you could help Bear?’

‘George, I’m sure she has plenty to do already –’

‘It’s really no trouble,’ I interrupted. ‘I mean. If you don’t mind. I quite like to keep my skills fresh so you’d actually be doing me a favour.’

Cal hesitated. ‘I’m not sure –’

But George was already handing me the teddy. I met his dad’s eyes as I took it. I could see he was still uncomfortable about a relative stranger doing something for him. He obviously wasn’t local. If he’d been from the village, he’d have realised this was all part of normal life here. Unlike many places, the village had managed to retain its closeness and community. And whilst it was hard for people not to know everyone else’s business, it was generally in a kind and considerate way rather than gossip. Of course, there was always a bit of that too – the villagers were human after all.

I looked the toy over and made a couple of ‘hmming’ noises before returning my attention to Cal and George.

‘It’s good news, you’ll be glad to hear. Definitely nothing serious. He’s already had some excellent surgery.’ George giggled and beamed at his dad. Cal’s face remained impassive but I saw his Adam’s apple bob briefly. ‘He really only needs a tiny bit more. If you two want to have a look around the shop, he’ll be fully recovered and waiting for you when you come back. If you want to go ahead of course.’

‘Can we, Daddy?’

Cal gave me a look and a tiny shake of his head, but I could see the faintest of smiles on his lips.

‘If Lexi doesn’t mind, then yes, of course. As long as you’re going to help me choose the decorations now. I’m not sure I can decide all by myself.’

‘Of course I’ll help you. Don’t worry.’ He kept hold of his dad’s hand as he looked at me. ‘You’ll look after my teddy, won’t you, Lexi?’

‘As if he were my own, I promise.’

‘Come on, George. Surgeons need peace and quiet to work in. Let’s start with finding you an advent calendar, shall we?’ Cal led George away, throwing me a quick grateful glance over his shoulder as he did. I gave him a quick nod and reached into the drawer of the old wooden desk I was sat at and pulled out a biscuit tin. Opening it, I rummaged around in the sewing supplies it stored to find a cotton that matched the fur of the bear and then set about threading up a needle. Steadily I worked around the bear’s neck, squinting at him occasionally and trying to ensure his head was level so that he wouldn’t be for evermore looking askew at the world.

Finally, I gently took out the larger, uneven stitches that had been put in at the time of the original incident, the love that they clearly represented more than making up for what they lacked in skill. By the time Cal and George came back to the desk, laden with items, I’d not only repaired Bear but also whipped the scarf off a toy we had on sale to finish him off properly. Luckily, I knew the maker of the scarves and would put in an emergency order by text once my customers had gone.

‘Bear!’ George cried as he saw his teddy casually lounging on the table that held the till. ‘Daddy, he’s got a scarf too, and it’s the same colour as mine!’

Cal smiled. ‘You really shouldn’t have. How much do I owe you?’

‘Ha! I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’ll have to ring them up first,’ I said, pushing my chair out to get to the till, leaning over for his basket as I did so.

‘No, I meant for the repair –’ he tilted his head ‘– and his new scarf.’

‘Oh!’ I shook my head, frowning. ‘Nothing.’

‘No. I must. It’s taken your time when you obviously have plenty to do anyway. I’d like –’

‘Really. It was my pleasure. There’s no charge.’

Cal was a good head and half taller than me but I’d grown up with three brothers and spent my entire career in a male-dominated world. I knew how to make a point when I needed to. Matt called it ‘The Tone’. Even without this inside knowledge, Cal clearly got the idea I wasn’t prepared to argue the point any further.

‘Well then, thank you. Sewing, admittedly, is not my forte.’

I smiled. ‘Then that makes two of us. You did a great job, honestly. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t even know where to start! And George thinks you’re a superhero so don’t be too hard on yourself. Honestly, I’ve just tidied it up a bit, that’s all.’

Cal tilted his head at me. ‘I’ve a feeling you’re being more kind than honest but I’ll take it. Thank you, again.’

‘You’re welcome. OK, let’s get your purchases sorted, shall we? I think all this shopping has tired someone out.’

Cal turned in the direction of my nod to where George was now curling up on one of the faux fur beanbags, his fingers wrapping around the bear’s scarf distractedly as his own eyelids drooped heavily.

‘Oh crikey, hang on, I’ll just get him –’

I caught Cal’s sleeve. ‘Don’t. He’s not doing any harm. Just leave him whilst we’re sorting this out.’

‘But isn’t that your stock?’

‘Yep. But it’s made for sitting on.’

‘Yes. Once it’s paid for.’

‘Look.’ I turned George’s dad around by his arms. ‘You’ve clearly taught him well. He’s even taken his shoes off. He’s fine. The stock is fine. Relax!’

Cal looked down at me and I realised I was still holding his arms. I dropped my hands quickly and shoved them into the pockets of my jeans.

‘Things are very different here from London,’ he said, his expression relaxing.

‘Yes. They are. Which is a good thing, I think.’

‘Definitely.’

‘OK. Let’s see what we have here.’ I started ringing through Cal’s purchases, wrapping the breakables, and stacking things carefully in a couple of boxes to make it easier for him to carry and transport back at home.

‘Have you got a long journey back?’ I asked as I rang up the final total, glancing over at the now sleeping George.

Cal gave me a quizzical look as he dipped a hand inside the padded jacket he wore, retrieving a wallet from the inner pocket and pulling a credit card out from inside.

‘No. Not far at all.’

‘Oh! Sorry, I assumed you were down from London when you said that about it being different here from there.’ I handed him the card reader and he put the card in as he answered me.

‘We used to live there.’

‘Oh.’ Clearly he didn’t want to share any more so I stopped my questioning and tried to remember that not everyone was as chatty as the locals. ‘That’s not reading properly. Do you mind?’ He shook his head as I moved the reader around to face me and took the card out, switching it around so that the chip was in the machine. As I did so, he rolled his eyes at himself.

‘My fault distracting you,’ I said.

‘Hardly.’

I dropped my gaze to the readout and took the comment at face value. Fair enough. Even if it was a bit blunt.

‘I meant hardly in that it wasn’t your fault, not that you weren’t distracting. Not that I was …’ He trailed off and I lifted my gaze to his. ‘I think I’m just going to shut up now.’

I laughed. ‘OK. Do you want to enter your PIN?’

‘Very much so.’

I grinned, took the machine back off him, and waited for the receipt to chug out, which I then handed to him, along with his card. As I did, I noticed the name on it.

‘Cal Martin?’

‘That’s me.’

‘As in Xander’s boss, Cal?’

‘You know Xander?’

‘He and Giselle are my best friends. I didn’t realise you were The Cal.’ I needed to have words with my friend, Giselle. She’d mentioned that her husband’s boss was quite good-looking, but had left out the fact that he had eyes like a rainstorm, a mouth that suggested temptation and, from what I could see, a body that absolutely promised it.

‘The Cal?’ He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that he kept low in deference to his sleeping child. ‘That sounds like quite a lot to live up to.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘I do. When you said your name was Lexi, it did cross my mind that I’d heard the name but …’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t think you could be the same one because I was under the impression you were kind of a high flyer and didn’t live in the village. Don’t you work in Formula One or something?’

‘I used to, yes.’ I’d intended to leave my explanation at that for now, but I hadn’t banked on those eyes. When I lifted my gaze from where I had been fiddling with the credit card machine’s cable, they were focused on me and suddenly I felt like I was the only person in about a five-mile radius. A thought, uninvited, flashed through my brain as to what that focus might feel like in a more … intimate … setting. Oh wow, probably best not to go there! Almost instantaneously, my cheeks flamed as I gave my thoughts a firm shove.

‘I’m sorry.’ He stepped back. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

‘Oh, no really. It’s fine. It’s not that at all.’ If only you knew … ‘I think I just got a little warm for a moment.’ I flapped my hand a bit for emphasis, which only succeeded in making me feel like an even bigger idiot so I shoved it back in my pocket again.

He smiled gently. ‘It is nice and cosy in here. Certainly seems to suit some people.’ We both looked over to where George was zonked out, Bear in one arm cuddled against him, the other flung out across the soft fur. ‘I’d better get him home.’

‘Oh wait. Don’t forget this.’ I placed one of the fresh wreaths I’d been making on top of one of the boxes. ‘Your son seemed to really like them.’

‘He did – you’re right,’ Cal agreed, reaching in his jacket for his wallet again.

I put my hand on his arm briefly to stop him.

‘It’s on the house.’

He frowned at me. ‘You can’t do that.’

‘Yes, I can. It’s my family’s business and it’s one wreath. Don’t worry. It’s not going to bankrupt us.’

‘So you’re Dan’s little sister?’

I laughed. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve been called anyone’s little sister, but I guess technically, yes.’

He gave a brief head tilt. ‘You are kind of little compared to your brothers.’

He had a point. I was.

Cal made an attempt to reach for his wallet again. ‘I really would feel happier if I paid for this, you know. You’ve already done too much for free.’ He nodded at his son’s toy.

I shook my head. ‘Honestly, it made a nice change to do something different for a few minutes. You two brightened up my day so take the wreath as payment for that, if you like.’

Cal studied me for a moment, that gaze enveloping me once more. ‘I’m not going to win on this, am I?’

I shook my head. ‘Nope.’

‘Xander did say you were a force to be reckoned with at times.’

‘You mustn’t believe everything Xander says.’

‘So I’m also not to believe that you head-butted a kid much bigger than you who was bullying Giselle at school.’

I cleared my throat. ‘I’d like to point out that we were seven and that I don’t condone violence. But we’d already tried reasoning with him. And have you ever seen Giselle cry? Even back then she was so feminine and delicate. It’s heartbreaking! I did what I had to.’

‘Fair enough. I also heard that the kid you nutted grew up to be the local policeman?’

I laughed. ‘Oh, you do know all the gossip, don’t you? Yes, he did. And he grew into a lovely man with a lovely family who totally agrees now that he was being a little … pain.’ I checked myself in time and received a grin in return that did nothing to help cool me in the slightest. ‘He says now that I was quite right to do what I did.’

‘So you don’t get speeding tickets even when you’re parked then, or anything like that?’

‘No. Thankfully!’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

‘Right. I’d better get this little tyke home.’ Cal bent and lifted the boxes and then as he approached George started bending his knees.

‘You’re going to drop the lot in a minute,’ I said, coming up behind him. ‘Here, I’ve got plenty of practice ferrying sleeping nephews and nieces to cars. I’ll bring him for you.’

‘No.’ His reply was so sharp that I actually took a step back. Cal turned a little more. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean it come out like that.’

I pasted on a smile, or at least half a one, and shrugged. ‘No problem. I was just trying to help.’

‘Yeah. I know.’ He ran a hand through the dark hair. ‘I know you were.’

‘Let me take the boxes then.’ I bent my knees to where he’d now put the purchases on the floor.

‘No, they’re pretty heavy.’

I blew out a sigh and stood, raising my eyes to him. ‘OK. Look. One, I’m stronger than I look and two, one way or the other you’re going to have to either leave George here whilst you take the boxes or leave him in the car whilst you come back and get them, and I don’t think you want to do either.’

His lack of reply was enough.

‘OK. So, you bring your son and I’ll bring these.’ I bent and scooped up the boxes, jiggled them into a better position, and peered around the side of the pile to see where I was going.

‘Are you sure you’re all right with those?’ Cal asked as George flopped softly against his shoulder.

‘Yes. So long as you’re not parked miles away, I’m fine.’

‘No, just down the road. Do you need to lock up or anything?’

‘No, it’s fine. Let’s just get going, shall we?’ The boxes were biting into my arms and I wasn’t about to show myself up by having to put them down again after I’d made such a song and dance.

Cal got the door and then led the way to a relatively new Land Rover Defender. He opened the boot and between us, him still with a sleeping child in one arm, we loaded the boxes into the storage area and wedged them in with a blanket and a coat so that they didn’t tip. He closed the door and went around the side, deftly popping his son in and securing him into his seat.

‘OK. Well, it was nice to meet you. Enjoy your purchases.’ I smiled and made to head off back to the shop.

‘Lexi?’ Cal called.

I turned and waited as he took the couple of steps towards me. There was a faint scent of aftershave now that he was close. Woody, masculine. Very him.

‘Look, I’m sorry if I snapped a bit at your offer earlier.’

‘It’s fine. I didn’t mean to cross any lines. I apologise if I did.’

‘No.’ He threw a glance back at the car, as if to check it was still there even though we were only two feet from it. ‘It’s me. I’m still pretty new to all this.’

‘All this?’ I queried.

‘People being kind, offering to help. Hell, even talking to one another for the most part.’

‘Right.’

‘I’ve hurt your feelings, which I would have felt a shit about anyway but after your kindness today, I feel a double shit about it.’

‘Honestly. Don’t give it another thought. I’m not.’

‘I think that’s a big fib.’

I tilted my chin up in defiance. ‘It’s not, I assure you.’ I think I was quite convincing until the big swallow I did gave me away.

A glimmer of a smile fleeted across his lips. ‘That’s what I thought. Look, I … it’s hard to explain. I just didn’t want George suddenly waking and find himself being carried along by someone he didn’t know then getting upset.’

‘It’s all right, Cal, really. You don’t have to justify anything to me.’

‘I think I do.’ He was watching me and once again the world around me seemed to melt into nothing. I’d never met anyone who could make me feel like I was the only one in the room before – even outside. And the thing was, I was pretty sure he had no idea he was doing it.

I took a deep breath, and looked away, feeling it to be the safer option. ‘OK. Let’s just agree that I didn’t mean to cross a line and you didn’t mean to bite my head off and move on shall we?’

The glimmer became more of a smile. ‘I think I’d like that.’

I smiled back. ‘Me too.’

‘Now get back inside before you freeze to death and I have something else to apologise for.’

I laughed, waved, and half ran along the narrow pavement before diving back into the warmth of the shop. As I did, Matt popped his head out from the back stock room.

‘There you are. Thought you’d abandoned ship.’

‘No, not yet. Just helping a customer to the car with his purchases.’

‘Good sale?’

‘Yep. Very good actually. I threw in a wreath for free because his little boy liked them.’

Matt put a mug of tea down on the desk in front of me and I wrapped my hands around it.

‘Ooh thanks, just what I need.’ I took a sip and then realised he was watching me. ‘What?’

‘You. You just make me laugh.’

I took another sip. ‘Do I dare to ask why?’

‘Well, you have this tough, tomboy outer layer –’

‘I do wear dresses sometimes, thank you.’

‘You know what I mean. You give off this tough-girl attitude, your job is predominantly male –’

‘My former job.’

‘Stop interrupting for two minutes, will you?’

‘Sorry.’ I made a zipping motion across my lips.

‘It just makes me laugh that you make people think things don’t bother you, that you’re tough as old leather – and we both know that’s not true. I just wonder why you always feel you have to do that. I can understand the work thing – why you don’t want to be all girly there. But you’re not as tough as you make out so why let people think that you are?’

‘Because it’s suited me. I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not anyway. I’m just not all feminine and girly like Giselle. She cries and looks beautiful. I cry and look like a red-faced, swollen-eyed, blotchy mess. It doesn’t quite have the same effect.’

‘I’m not saying you have to cry all the time. God forbid. I’m just saying you’re not as tough as you think you are … and that’s OK.’

‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ I asked, staring into my tea.

‘The family just wants you to be happy.’

I turned on the chair and folded my legs up into a crossed position. ‘The family? You know we’re not The Mob, right? And by happy, do you mean married?’

‘Well, not immediately. And not at all if that’s not what you want.’

‘I did want – once. Remember how well that worked out?’

‘So that means you keep yourself at a distance from everyone for ever?’

‘It’s a lot less hassle.’

‘And a lot more lonely.’

‘With a lot less heartbreak.’

‘And a lot less chance at joy.’

I glared at him because I’d run out of argument.

‘Look. I’m not necessarily ruling it out but there was hardly a lot of opportunity before. Liaisons were frowned upon in the team and there was barely time for anything like that anyway.’

‘Not entirely frowned upon.’ Matt shifted position on the wall as he snagged another biscuit from the tin and frisbeed one to me. ‘You were engaged to Marco.’

‘He was their top driver and winning them the championship, not to mention millions in sponsorship. The rules didn’t really apply to him so much. And I’d been working for a different team when we got together so they couldn’t say a whole lot.’

Matt shrugged his eyebrows.

‘Anyway. That’s all a bit irrelevant now. Besides, dating is the absolute last thing on my mind right now. Trying to find another job is rather taking priority.’

‘Have you heard anything?’

‘From Marco?’

Matt gave me an interested look. ‘I meant jobwise but we can go with that.’

‘Oh. No. I’ve got another enquiry out I’m waiting to hear back on but I don’t know if anything will come of it.’ I sighed and snagged another biscuit. ‘I’m really good at my job but it’s a small community. They all know what happened and as far as they’re concerned, the years of commitment I gave were all wiped out by one action. I don’t know if anyone will give me another chance.’

‘They’re idiots if they don’t.’

I smiled at my big brother. ‘Likely true.’

He gave me a wink, then scooped up my now empty mug. ‘You know you’ve always got a job here, don’t you? God knows we could do with the help.’

I nodded. I couldn’t lie. The thought had crossed my mind more than once. The past year, being off the circuit, had allowed me to get back a little more often and see my friends and family and I’d begun to realise just how much I’d missed it all. My friends, my family, even the shop. Matt rinsed the mugs in the sink and came back to lean on the wall.

‘Have you heard from Marco then?’

‘We’ve spoken a bit, yes.’

‘And?’

‘And it’s fine. It’s good. We’re in a good place. A better place. Back to being friends, which is maybe where it should have stayed.’

‘It was kind of a whirlwind.’

‘Yep. It certainly was that. But at the time I thought it was the right thing. What I wanted. What he wanted.’ I pulled my mouth to the side and gave my brother a look. ‘Seriously not very good at the whole relationship thing, am I?’

‘Aah, don’t you worry. These things usually take two. And who knows? We might even be able to find a bloke to put up with you if you ever decided to stick around here. Stranger things have happened.’

‘You know your comedic talent is wasted here, don’t you?’

Matt opened his mouth to reply and I rammed a biccie in it. ‘Conversation closed.’

Chapter Three

‘So! A little birdie tells me you met Cal?’

I was sat at the lime-washed pine table in Xander and Giselle’s kitchen decorating gingerbread men whilst Giselle cooked something deliciously French for dinner on the hob of her pink Aga.

‘Is that all right?’ I asked, carefully tipping one of the biscuits towards her.

Giselle glanced over. ‘Perfect! You know you don’t need to check with me. We used to do these together for the shop all the time.’

I pulled a face as I squidged the icing down the bag a little more. ‘I know. But I’m out of practice.’

‘It’s like riding a bicycle. It’ll all come back.’

I gave my gingerbread man a neat side parting. ‘If you remember, the last time I rode a bicycle with you, I ended up headfirst in a nettle bush.’

Giselle laughed. ‘Oh my, I’d forgotten that. You were in such a state! I felt so sorry for you. It must have been agony.’

Gingerbread man got mittens. ‘It definitely isn’t in my list of top ten favourite days, that’s for sure.’

Giselle tasted the sauce and made a fluttering motion with her beautifully long, false lashes. ‘Parfait!’ It always amused me how, even though she’d been over here since she was seven years old, there were times when she still dropped back into French. It wasn’t forced or affected. I wasn’t even entirely sure she knew she was doing it. But I loved it.

‘Good?’

‘Very. Just needs to simmer a bit longer. Xander should be home any time so it should be just about right.’

‘Good, because it smells delicious and I’m starving. This gingerbread man is, frankly, quite lucky he’s still got all his body parts.’

Giselle grinned and filled another icing bag before setting to work on the pile of biscuits that still needed dressing, ready for the shop.

‘So … like I said, I hear you met Cal Martin?’

‘I did. He came into the shop with his little boy. Although I didn’t realise it was him until he paid and I saw the name on his card.’

‘Bit gorgeous, isn’t he?’

I lifted my gaze and looked at her through my slightly overlong fringe. She waved her piping bag at me.

‘What? Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to observe beautiful things. In fact, it’s good for the soul. I just read an article on it. So?’

‘So, what?’

Giselle squirted her piping bag at me so that a blob shot out and landed on my face.

‘Oi!’

‘Answer then!’ She giggled as I felt around my cheek for the icing with my finger, found it, and ate it.

‘What do you want me to say?’

‘He said you had a nice chat and that you were quite the Santa’s Little Helper.’ She quirked a brow that was shaped, coloured, and tamed to within an inch of its life, yet still looked entirely natural. I made a mental note to drop into the local beauty salon and have a tidy-up.

‘I’d say a chat was overstating it a little, and I wasn’t being “Santa’s Helper”, little or otherwise.’ I flicked some icing back at her. ‘There was no way that teddy bear’s head was going to stay attached to its body for very much longer. I’ve repaired enough of my own – and my brothers’ kids’ toys – to know when immediate action is required. Plus, have you seen George? Can you imagine how heartbreaking that face would be as he watched his teddy’s head fall off and roll into the road, only to be flattened by a passing car!’

Giselle was looking at me aghast. ‘Well, for goodness’ sake, don’t say that in front of him! I’m upset just thinking about it.’

‘Sorry. Anyway, it’s not going to happen. It’s all secured now.’

‘He is a cutie, though. I agree.’

‘Cal?’

Giselle raised an amused eyebrow. ‘I was referring to George but if you like …’

‘No. Carry on.’

‘To be honest, both of them are. There’s definitely been a clamour of play date requests since he moved to the village.’

‘He is a sweet little boy and seems very well mannered too.’

‘True. But I think the parent is a fair bit of the draw to be honest. A few of the mothers have been quite put out when his childminder has taken him instead, and I got a death glare once when I turned up with him. The woman tried to cover it up but not quite quick enough.’

‘You took him to a play date?’

‘Yes.’

‘Wow. Cal must really trust you. George fell asleep in the shop and I offered to carry him the few steps to the car whilst he took the shopping and he practically bit my head off.’

Giselle tilted her head a little and pushed out her bottom lip. ‘Yes, he did mention that. Felt quite bad about it, I think.’

I waved the comment away with my piping bag. ‘It’s fine. He apologised. It just shows how much he must value you to trust his son with you like that.’

‘Well, I guess we’ve got to know him quite well since he moved here. At first, he wouldn’t accept any invites but I can be quite persistent.’

‘No!’ I did a mock shock expression and Giselle squinted one eye and aimed her piping bag at me. I hid behind a naked gingerbread man.

‘Anyway!’ she said, grinning. ‘Eventually he gave in and now he comes over for dinner a fair bit. George will snuggle up on the sofa with Sophia and is usually asleep within moments of his bedtime.’

Sophia was Xander and Giselle’s incredibly cute cockapoo and was quite possibly the laziest dog in the world, so the fact that she would snag an opportunity to lie anywhere with another warm body didn’t surprise me at all.

I lowered my biscuit shield. ‘He did say something about not being used to people being nice or something. What was that all about?’

‘Had a bit of a rough childhood, from what I can gather.’ Xander’s deep tones drifted through moments before he followed them in his socked feet.

I let my friends have their moment of greeting as I concentrated on giving my latest creation a matching stripy hat, mittens, and wellies.

‘All right, Muppet?’ Xander said, and bopped a kiss on my temple. ‘They look good.’

He reached his hand down towards the biscuit in front of me and I gently elbowed him away.

‘Come on, just one.’

‘No. They’re for the shop. Plus your beautiful wife has made something delicious for dinner and you’ll spoil your appetite.’

I knew for a fact that this was unlikely. Xander and I had been best friends since literally the day we were born and he’d been a dustbin from day one. It still amazed me thirty-odd years later that he could pack food away and not be the size of a house.

‘She won’t mind.’

‘Yes, “she” will!’ Giselle looked up from the pan she was now stirring, one hand on her hip.

Xander threw me an “oops” glance. ‘Maybe after dinner then,’ he conceded, winking at Giselle. ‘Where’s the dog?’

‘Asleep on my feet under the table. At least I’m assuming that’s what’s keeping them warm.’

Xander bent down. ‘Yep. Honest to God. I think we got a cock-a-sloth by mistake. I’m supposed to be greeted by a happy little dog, pleased to see me after I’ve had a long, hard day at work.’

‘You’ve hardly been down the mines,’ I said, concentrating on piping a smile.

‘He’s a tough boss,’ Xander replied, purposely nudging me.

I sat back in the chair and fixed him with a look.

‘Oh dear, look at that. Can’t really sell that one, can you?’ Before I could move the gingerbread man was headless and half devoured.

I switched my look to Giselle. ‘Honestly, I don’t know how we put up with him.’

‘Think yourself lucky you’re not married to him.’

I did a theatrical shiver and Xander flicked me on the ear my hair was tucked behind.

‘OK. Ow!’

‘Honestly, I really hope this baby is a boy. I need some backup around here.’ He pulled out a chair next to Giselle who had now sat back down opposite me and he placed his hand on the ever-growing bump. I watched for a moment and then lowered my eyes back to my task. Even though these two were like family, I still felt a little intrusive in such moments and rather like one of the big, fat gooseberries Giselle currently had thawing in a bowl, destined for some delicious culinary fate.

‘Right. That’s the last one,’ I said, putting the final biscuit on the tray and standing up to lift it.

‘Here,’ Xander said, getting up and coming over. ‘I’ll put it up here, just in case the dog ever discovers any energy. She’ll have the lot of them.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Dinner’s ready,’ Giselle declared. ‘Xander, would you pour the wine, please?’

Xander set about pouring wine for him and I and a soft grape drink for Giselle as she dished up the chicken. I sat at the table again, having been told there was nothing I could do, and enjoyed the smells swirling around me. The delicious aroma of dinner mixed with ginger and baking, plus the faint tang of soft roses from Giselle’s perfume. I absent-mindedly thought about the expensive bottle Dan and Claire had bought me, which usually languished in a dark drawer, hoping to prevent evaporation. I really ought to get it out and actually use it, now that I wasn’t wearing Eau d’Engine Oil every day.

I watched my friend as she expertly dished up the food, not splashing a drop, or missing a plate. Everything was perfect, elegant, beautiful. Just like her. I smiled and she caught me.

‘What are you smiling at?’

‘You.’

Giselle laughed. ‘Why?’

‘Because we’re so different and I love that but I also wish I could be more like you. If I was doing that, half the Aga would be covered and the dog would be having a field day.’

‘Oh rubbish. You’re perfect as you are. And you’re totally capable of dishing up food neatly. I’ve seen you.’

Xander opened his mouth and then shut it as Giselle shot him a glare.

I laughed. ‘It’s fine. Whatever he was going to say was probably true.’

‘Anyway, you have your own talents. Look at that time you fixed your date’s car, even though it pretty much ruined that beautiful dress. Did you ever replace that by the way?’

I shook my head as I took another sip of wine. ‘Nope. Not a lot of call for it in my life right now.’

Or any time soon.

‘And yes, I did fix his car, which resulted in him never contacting me again.’

‘Oh, I’m sure that wasn’t the reason,’ Giselle said, then realised she was in a sticky position. ‘I mean …’ She put the plates down on the table and pulled a face.

‘It really was the problem.’ I waved her awkwardness away, filling her in. ‘I ran into him a few months later in a pub. His very pretty, very feminine, then girlfriend nipped to the loo and he mentioned that he had been planning to see me again right up until the moment I fixed his car. It was a “turn-off”, I believe was the phrase he used.’

Xander shook his head. ‘Idiot. Didn’t deserve you then anyway.’

‘No. Exactly,’ I agreed with as much emphasis as I could before thanking Giselle and tucking in to the meal in front of me.

Chapter Four

‘So, what was that about Cal not having had a very good childhood?’ I asked Xander later while on my third glass of wine as I sat waving goodbye to my normal resolve to avoid gossip.

He topped up my glass then his own as he pondered his reply. ‘He’s not said a lot to be honest, has he, Gis?’

Giselle didn’t need wine to enjoy a good gossip so long as it wasn’t hurting anyone. ‘Not really. From what I can gather he spent a lot of time in care.’

‘Does he have any family?’

Xander shook his head. ‘Nope. Just him and George.’

‘What about George’s mother?’ I asked, snagging a couple of gingerbread men from the tray and handing one to Xander.

Giselle raised an eyebrow. ‘Honestly. You two are as bad as one another.’

I beamed and fluttered my eyelashes at her innocently then stopped when I realised it was making the room spin. Obviously, that was the reason. Absolutely nothing to do with the wine.

‘Not interested in seeing him. The little one was a complete accident. She was pretty horrified to find out she was pregnant apparently. Some high-flying career type who absolutely didn’t want to be a mother at that point. Actually ever, from what Cal intimated. I didn’t like to ask too much else, but he said they worked something out in that she’d go ahead with it all and once the baby arrived, he’d take full responsibility.’

‘Tricky situation.’

‘Mmmn.’

I took another sip of wine. ‘What do you think he would he do if she turned up now?’

‘I think he’d let her in, but I think he’d also be really careful. George is his world and he’ll do anything to protect him from getting hurt. But, either way, it seems an unlikely scenario to be honest. I mean, she resented the baby from the moment she knew about it. That didn’t change even once he came into the world. I think Cal sort of thought she might have a change of heart once she saw the little one, but she definitely didn’t.’

‘That can’t have been easy for him though. Raising a newborn on his own, with no family to help him? Did he have friends?’ I said, a little intrigued, not to mention a tad in awe.

‘It sounds like it was pretty much just him. He eventually found the childminder who’s still with him now. Lovely lady. Widowed early and dotes on the lad. But I think Cal resisted even that for a long time. She came with him down from London. I think it’s done her good too as she’s met a lovely chap here. Derek, you know, from the plant nursery?’

I did know Derek. Ever so shy but a very sweet man who’d spent many years caring for his elderly parents who’d now passed away. It was nice to think that he’d met someone.

‘Anyway, Cal was doing all this as well as trying to run a business. I think he finally realised he wasn’t superman. He had to ask for some help,’ Giselle added.

‘And now he probably gets all sorts offered here.’

‘I should say!’ Xander chuckled.

I slid my elbow along and jolted his. ‘I didn’t mean sexual help. I meant … general help.’

‘But you wouldn’t be averse to offering either?’

I rolled my eyes. ‘That’s the last thing I’m offering anyone right at the moment. My life is already a mess.’ I put my head down on the table. ‘I really don’t need to be thinking about adding a bonk with Cal Martin into the mix.’

‘Sorry. I did ring the bell …’ Cal’s deep and disturbingly sexy voice drifted into my ears and I fervently hoped that I was mishearing. The fact that, momentarily, both Xander and Giselle went suspiciously silent confirmed that I probably wasn’t. Oh God. OK. It’s fine. I’ll just stay here and perhaps he won’t notice me.

‘Hi, Lexi.’

Bugger.

I dragged my head up off the table and shooshed my fringe with my hand.

‘Hi!’ I said, very casually as though I hadn’t just been talking about bonking him when he walked in. I wondered if there was any way of persuading him to wear a cowbell in the hopes of avoiding three awkward encounters in a row.

‘I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?’ he asked, his eyes scanning the table and our faces, lingering a little longer on mine with what I could clearly see now was a twinkle of mischief.

‘No! Not at all. Sorry about the doorbell. I’ve been asking someone to put new batteries in it for the last week,’ Giselle said pointedly, looking at Xander as she poured water into the kettle. He pulled a face as if suddenly remembering.

‘Can you stay for coffee?’

As much as I loved Giselle and would do anything for her, I could also have quite happily throttled her right then, albeit temporarily.

Please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

‘That’d be lovely, thanks.’

Damn.

‘Martha’s with George and he’s already asleep. I was passing and just wanted to drop off the details of a couple of finds I’ve discovered to see what Xander thought about them.’ He took the seat that Giselle offered him, opposite Xander, and next to me, passing the files across the table.

‘How was the one today?’

Cal blew out a sigh. ‘Waste of petrol, mate. Nothing like the description really. For the time we’d have spent out on it even a really good auction price would barely cover it. And an average one definitely wouldn’t. Not worth the risk and effort.’

‘These look promising though,’ Xander said, scanning the paperwork. ‘Here, Muppet, take a look at that.’ Xander went to push the files towards me and then halted, glancing over at his boss. ‘I mean, if that’s all right? It’s just, you know, she knows a lot about cars.’

Cal grinned. ‘Of course.’

I took the paperwork and studied the pictures and descriptions of the classic cars, both in a very sorry state of repair.

‘Oh … this makes me so sad.’

I looked up to see Xander rolling his eyes. ‘We shouldn’t let you have wine.’

I slapped him with the papers. ‘Oh shush. You know what I mean. Cal will know what I mean.’ I scooched in my seat a bit more to face him. ‘You know what I mean, don’t you?’ I said, pointing at the pictures.

‘It’s sad that such beautiful machines have been left to rot.’

‘You see!’ I threw Xander a slightly inebriated, and very smug glance. ‘Exactly. That’s exactly what I meant. I knew you’d understand.’

Cal twitched an eyebrow and a broad grin showed briefly before the coffee cup hid it. He had a really nice smile. If I’d have had another glass of wine, I’d have gone so far as to say it was a very sexy smile. But I hadn’t, so I wasn’t going to say, or even think that at all. It really was no wonder half the mums wanted a play date with him. I didn’t even have a child and I was a handful of squashed grapes away from setting one up myself.

‘Oi, Muppet. What do you think then?’

‘Are you really calling her Muppet?’ Cal asked, his eyes shining with laughter.

Xander looked slightly confused. ‘It’s her name.’

‘I thought it was Lexi.’

‘Well, yeah. Officially.’

‘Actually, officially it’s Alexandra.’ I did a sweeping sort of motion with my hand, like I was bowing but I couldn’t be arsed to stand up so you had to use your imagination a bit.

‘And you’re really Alexander.’ Cal said, nodding across the table.

‘Yep. Born on the same day. Mums were in the beds next to each other, and they’d both decided on Alexander. Because Muppet here was supposed to be a boy.’

‘I wasn’t supposed to be a boy!’

‘All right. You were expected to be a boy. But that sort of happened anyway.’

‘Do you mind?’

‘What? You’re not exactly girly, are you?’

‘Giselle does girly enough for the both of us.’

‘She’s plenty girly,’ Cal interjected. ‘Carry on.’

I wiggled my head at Xander in triumph and he ignored me.

‘So, anyway, out pops this one and her poor parents hadn’t even begun to consider girls’ names because, although they didn’t have any scanning equipment down at the little cottage hospital we were born in, everyone was convinced in that mystical way people are, that it was another boy. Her parents had resigned themselves to it. And they’d spent so long choosing a name they just made it into a feminine version. Unlike the human being they produced.’

‘You’re such an arse,’ I mumbled.

‘But once we started recognising our names and especially at playgroup, it all got a bit confusing so they got adapted: hers into Lexi. Mine into Xander.’

‘OK,’ Cal said, breaking the leg of the gingerbread man that had now appeared in front of him and popping it in his mouth. ‘That makes sense. But why Muppet?’

‘Because she is one.’ Xander looked at his boss as if this explanation was obvious.

Cal glanced at me and tilted his head. ‘Ask a silly question …’

‘It’s fine. I don’t mind it. It’s all meant with love.’

‘That’s true. But you are a Muppet. You have to admit that. Last year was the perfect example.’

‘Xander,’ Giselle said. Her voice was quiet but there was a definite hint of warning.

‘What person, other than a total muppet, would travel halfway across the world, knowing that by doing so they were not only going to lose their job but their entire career as well, just to visit a friend.’

I let out a sigh. ‘You know it was more than that.’

‘I should never have called you.’ Xander swirled the last of his wine around the glass.

‘Oi.’ I nudged him. ‘If you hadn’t I’d have never forgiven you.’

‘You’d never have known! And you’d still have a job.’

‘Oh my God, Xander!’ I sat back in the chair. ‘This was not your fault. Or Giselle’s or anyone else’s but mine. You were in a state and Giselle was in emergency surgery for life-threatening peritonitis! You two mean more to me than any job, or any career! Don’t you get that? If I had to do it again, I wouldn’t change a thing. It was the right thing to do.’

‘But she’s fine!’

‘Yes. Thank God. But we didn’t know that and I felt much better being here at the time and for Giselle’s recovery than I would have done in a pit garage in some far-flung country. So can we just accept that and move on? I will sort out my life but you did the right thing in calling me that day and I did the right thing in coming home, whatever the fallout.’

Xander looked at me for a moment, half stood, and grabbed me in a gentle headlock before planting a kiss on my temple.

‘See? Told you. Total muppet.’

I knew Xander felt guilty about having called me that day, but it was true what I’d said. If he hadn’t called me, whatever the outcome, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive him, because in the back of my mind, there would always have been the “what if” …

‘He’s been calling her that since I’ve known them both and we met when we were seven so …’ Giselle said, turning to Cal as she did a little shrug and a very Gallic thing with her face and hands.

‘It’s all right. I call him much worse when he’s not here.’

‘That, I believe,’ Xander shot back.

I smirked, downed the last of my wine, and pushed my chair out. ‘I’d better start heading home.’

‘Do you want me to give you a lift?’ Giselle asked, already up and looking for her keys.

‘No! You stay here in the warm. It’s not like it’s far.’

‘It’s sleeting out there now,’ Cal volunteered and I shot him a look. ‘Then I definitely don’t want Giselle out in a car.’

‘I’m pregnant, not an invalid!’

‘Yes. You have precious cargo on board, which means you should avoid all and any possibly dangerous situations.’

Giselle rolled her eyes. ‘Honestly, you and Xander are like mother hens on steroids.’

‘Whatever works.’

‘You’ll freeze,’ Giselle said, giving me a stern look.

‘I can drop you off,’ Cal offered.

‘No really, it’s fine. The walk will do me good. Sober me up.’

‘It really is cold out there.’

‘I have gloves and a coat and hat and most importantly, plenty of alcohol in my veins. Did you know there was a cook on the Titanic who downed a whole bottle of sherry, thinking if he was going to be plunged into an icy, watery grave he may as well be pissed too – but then he survived because his blood was thinned so much by the alcohol it didn’t suffer the same effects as everyone else?’

‘You’re not planning to plunge yourself into the village pond, are you?’ Xander squinted at me.

‘No. Not intentionally anyway. Argh!’ I threw my arms up. ‘You’re missing the whole point of the story!’

‘I’ll just take you.’ Cal grinned. ‘It’s fine. It’s on my way anyway and George would never forgive me if he found out I hadn’t helped his top Teddy Surgeon home with a lift.’

I glanced over at Giselle who was nodding at me vigorously, the reasons for which were a little blurry. Kind of like my vision.

We exchanged goodbyes and hugs and Cal led me to his Land Rover, catching my arm as I missed the footplate in the dark and nearly face-planted into the seat.

‘Whoops.’

‘Ups-a-daisy,’ Cal said, as he boosted me in.

I turned my head and looked back at him, his face now in slightly soft focus. ‘Ups-a-daisy?’

‘I have a five-year-old. Sorry. Words tend to slip out in inappropriate moments.’

That delicious smile began to spread on his face and suddenly accepting a lift from him didn’t seem like the best idea. Perhaps I was best off taking my chances with the frozen village pond. He shut the door and I lost the option.

‘How do you know where I live? I mean, you said it was on your way, but it might not be.’

‘I’ve dropped Dan home a couple of times after the pub and he pointed out your parents’ place. You live above the garage, don’t you?’

I nodded, trying to think back as to whether I’d told him this. I was pretty sure I hadn’t.

‘How do you know?’

‘Xander mentioned it.’

‘Oh.’ I began to wonder what else my mate might have mentioned.

Cal started the car and we headed off, the wipers slapping against the now heavy sleet almost in time to the classical piece that was playing quietly on the radio.

‘Thanks for this.’

He glanced over briefly. ‘You’re welcome.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Hopefully it’ll go some way to making up for coming across as so rude the other day when you offered to help me with George.’

‘Honestly. There’s nothing to make up for. Really.’

He gave me another glance that indicated he didn’t agree. His head turned away for a moment and then back towards me, his brow furrowed. It felt as if he was trying to decide whether to say something or not. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Sometimes my past has a way of invading the present,’ he said eventually. Whatever it was that he’d been thinking of saying, I was pretty sure that wasn’t all of it.

‘You really don’t have to keep apologising,’ I said, as he pulled the car into the large driveway in front of the farmhouse and garage. ‘It’s already forgotten.’ Looking up from where I’d been fiddling with the ribbon I’d attached to my mittens after losing one of a pair four times in a row, I met Cal’s gaze. If I hadn’t already met him, I’d have said it was the wine causing the slight hypnotic effect I was now feeling. But as I’d also had that feeling whilst perfectly sober, I knew it was pure Cal Martin.

‘Whatever it was in your past, I’m really sorry you had to go through it.’

And me blabbing was pure wine.

‘Thanks.’ He smiled, not seeming to mind. ‘Long time ago now.’

‘That doesn’t always mean a lot.’

He drew a breath in and let it out slowly. ‘No. True. But life’s good now. I have George, and my business, and moving to this village has definitely been good for me.’

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘I’m sorry if I kicked off some painful memories.’

‘I told you. Forget it. It’s all good now.’

I put my hand on the catch of the door, then hesitated, my brain telling me to leg it and my mouth, as usual, ignoring the sensible advice and doing its own thing.

‘When you came in at Xander and Giselle’s, you didn’t happen to overhear …’

‘Yep.’

I risked a look up. He was grinning. Damn.

‘I didn’t mean … it’s just that what you heard …’ Cal moved his head a smidgeon to the side, encouraging me to continue with my explanation, the smile still firmly in place. ‘What you heard was out of context. It’s really not what it sounded like.’

‘OK,’ he replied, with a tone that implied he didn’t a believe a word of it.

‘I should go. Thanks for the lift.’

‘My pleasure. I’ll see you around.’

‘Ummhmm,’ I said, noncommittally, waved, and took the few steps to where the metal stairs ran up to my little dwelling.

What I hadn’t taken into consideration as I ran up the staircase was that the sleet, now coming into contact with the cold metal, was freezing over. As I neared the top, one leg went one way and the other went in the opposite direction. I was so glad George wasn’t there because the expletives were out and proud before I even thought about it as I wrapped my arms around the banister and hung there for a moment, a foot dangling in mid-air either side of the steps.

‘Lexi!’ Cal’s concerned call came as I heard the car door slam. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Parfait!’ Oh God, now not only did I look an idiot, I sounded like one. What on Earth had possessed me to channel Giselle right at that moment, especially since I could guarantee this was not a situation my elegant friend would ever find herself in?

‘Stay there. I’m coming up.’

‘No! Don’t! I’m not going to be responsible for you breaking your neck,’ I said, flinging my feet around in mid-air, trying to get a purchase on the step. Unfortunately, every time I tried, it slid straight back out.

‘And I’m not going to be responsible for leaving you like that.’ The stairs reverberated through my arms as Cal’s bulk stepped onto them.

‘Jesus,’ I heard him mutter.

‘What’s the matter?’ I tried twisting around to see him.

‘Nothing. It’s just slippy. Don’t look back at me. Just hold on.’

I flung my feet again and managed to get one on the step, at least lessening the strain on my arms momentarily before it slid and joined the other. On the plus side, I was no longer a starfish.

‘Here. Hold on to me.’ Cal’s voice was now right behind me.

‘Umm … that would mean I have to let go.’ I glanced down at the bare branches of the bushes beneath me. ‘So I think I’m going to go with a no. I’m fine. I’ll just wait here until it thaws.’

Cal’s laugh was deep and warm and I could feel it in his chest as he wrapped an arm around me, the other gripping the metal banister.

‘Let go. I promise I won’t drop you. Xander and Giselle would never forgive me, not to mention my son.’

‘Ummm …’

‘Trust me.’

I turned my head as much as I could to try and see him. He leant forward and met my eyes.

‘Let go.’

Squinching my eyes closed, I did. Cal pulled me back up and lifted me a couple of steps up so that we were both standing on the coir mat that lay outside my front door. Cal was big and the mat was small so it was kind of a squeeze. A little bit of my brain sent out an alarm that this should bother me. Another bit smacked the alarm with a hammer and the noise stopped.

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome. You need to get some salt or grit on these. That could have been nasty.’

‘As opposed to just incredibly mortifying,’ I mumbled as I fished around in my pocket for my key.

‘I wouldn’t go as far as saying “incredibly” …’

I tilted my head up to face him in the half-light of a waning moon. He was smiling and doing that thing that made the world disappear.

‘I would,’ I replied, plunging the key into the lock, and giving it a turn. Risking a look back up, I saw that the smile was still there.

‘You sure you’re OK?’

‘Perfectly.’

‘Parfait?’

‘Oh crap. You heard that too.’

‘I’m hearing a lot this evening.’

I rubbed a hand over my face. ‘Like I said, that thing before was out of context.’

‘I’d love to know what it was like in context then.’

‘I don’t remember.’

Cal laughed, deep, warm, and worryingly sexy. ‘That’s such a cop-out answer.’

I shrugged.

He quirked a brow at me. ‘And so’s that.’

‘It’s my speciality.’

‘Is it now? I shall have to remember that.’

‘Actually, if you could just forget the whole evening, that’d work better for me.’

‘But not me.’

I let out a sigh.

‘Go on, get in before we both freeze.’ Cal squinted against the shimmering moonlight. ‘It’s actually turning to snow now. And for God’s sake, be careful going down those steps tomorrow.’

I gave him a mock salute and he rolled his eyes at me. But even in the low light, I could see the humour in them.

‘Night, Lexi.’

‘Goodnight, Cal.’

I waited until he got back in the car and had turned over the engine, then gave a quick wave. He flashed the lights twice, swung the Landy in a circle, and began pulling back onto the main road through the village.

I closed the door, peeled off my outer layers, and flopped backwards onto the bed.

Oh dear. As I had stated earlier, the very last thing I needed in my life was more complication. But I knew for certain now that there was a real possibility I was in danger of developing a quite mahoosive crush on Cal Martin, and that really wouldn’t do.

Chapter Five

‘But you look so adorable, darling!’

I gave my mum a look that showed her what I thought about that statement.

‘Honestly, it might have been worth a night on a park bench in order to avoid this,’ I grumped.

Mum straightened my elf hat, topped up my rosy cheeks with her lipstick, and told me not to be so ridiculous before welcoming a group of late-night shoppers and tempting them with the taster plate of Christmas Infused Chocolate Fudge she was brandishing.

‘You know it’s tradition.’ Dan wandered up, his enormous feet encased in curly elf shoes.

‘Just because something is traditional doesn’t necessarily mean it’s a good idea.’ I waved my hand around him. ‘Whoever saw a six foot three, seventeen stone elf anyway?’

‘It’s called getting into the spirit. Use your imagination, Lex. Plus, we know for a fact that it helps attract customers. Proven statistics. Assuming said elves haven’t got a face like a professional lemon sucker.’

I gave him a very fake grin.

‘Where’s your beard anyway?’

‘I may have donned the costume, hat, and shoes but I drew a line at the beard. Last time I wore it years ago I had a rash on my face for a week.’

Dan yanked his own nylon one down for a moment and took a big glug of mulled cider before letting it ping back in place.

‘So … how’s things?’ he asked.

‘Huh?’

Before he could answer, a group of late-night shoppers, already laden with bags, came upon us. Dan did a brilliant job of making them laugh and enticing them into the shop with the promise of mulled wine, cider, and nibbles. But not, of course, before they had insisted on taking around a hundred and two selfies with us, immediately posting some to Facebook, and tagging the shop’s website in the post. Excellent. Any hopes I’d had of keeping my humiliation confined to the village immediately disappeared. But, on the bright side, it was always possible nobody would recognise me.

‘So?’ Dan prodded.

‘What?’ I asked, pulling my phone from the pocket of my elf shorts and unlocking the screen.

‘I hear Cal Martin dropped you home the other night. Rumour is he had his arms around you.’

I turned to my brother. ‘Really? You’re believing gossip now? How would you even know that anyway?’

‘So, it’s not true.’

‘Well, technically it is true –’

Dan opened his mouth and I cut him off.

‘But! Only because I’d fallen through the bloody banisters and was having trouble getting upright.’

‘According to my sources there’s quite a few women around here who would like nothing better than to have trouble getting upright if Cal Martin is involved.’

I rolled my eyes. ‘It’s not like that.’

‘What is it like then?’

Another ping on my phone distracted me, which was just as well as I had no idea what it was like … or what I even wanted it to be like.

‘You can’t shut everyone out for ever, you know, Lex.’ Dan’s voice was soft now and I shook my head, not looking at him.

‘I’m not.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.

Maybe.

I returned my concentration to my phone. ‘Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!’ I was staring at the laughing face emoticon put in the comments to the elf picture by one of my ex-colleagues at the Formula One team.

Dan leant over. ‘Ooh … shared. Good advertising. Well done, Lex.’

‘Nooo, it’s not! Sodding Facebook. All it’s done is advertised what an idiot I look. That’s now popping up on the timeline of various team members, other teams, and drivers! I’m a bloody laughing stock!’

Dan wrapped an arm around me. ‘No, you’re not.’

‘No one who sees that will ever take me seriously.’

‘It’s Christmas and you’re helping out your family. You’re dressed as an elf, Lex. It could certainly be worse.’

‘How could it possibly be worse?’

‘Oh, talk of the devil. Here comes Cal.’

Great. It just got worse.

‘Hello.’

I waved a large-gloved hand. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey, Dan, how are you?’ Cal and my brother shook hands as I glanced back towards the shop front, wondering if I could make a run for it. My gaze drifted down to my oversized, curly-toed shoes. Running was most definitely out of the question.

‘Lexi!’ George appeared from a group of children and came charging towards me. Instinctively, I bent down and caught him, lifting him up and swinging him around for a moment before popping him back down. His cherubic little cheeks were rosy from the cold and excitement and his bobble hat kept slipping a little over his eyes. Cal bent and tugged the hat back a bit.

‘You look like a real elf!’

‘What makes you think I’m not a real one?’

George giggled. ‘You’re too big.’

‘I’ll have you know that Father Christmas likes all sorts of shapes and sizes when it comes to elves, just as he should.’

‘But you don’t have a beard.’

‘That’s because I’m a girl.’

He thought about that one for a minute, then shook his head, still giggling. ‘I don’t really think you’re an elf but I like that you look like one.’

Dan crouched down to join us. ‘I heard a rumour –’

I shot him a glance and beneath the fake facial hair I could see the lines around his eyes crinkle.

‘– that the elves inside the shop have some free cake and biscuits. Do you want to come and see if that’s true?’

George looked up at his dad. Cal nodded. ‘I’ll be in in a minute.’

Dan bent down. ‘It’s kind of busy in there so up you jump. We don’t want someone stepping on you now, do we?’

‘No! I definitely don’t want to be stepped on,’ George said, all seriousness. Cal smothered a smile.

With barely any effort, Dan hefted George onto his back and trudged into the shop, lifting his feet high with each step in order to accommodate the ridiculous shoes.

‘How are you?’ Cal asked, his eyes scanning my face.

‘Fine, thanks.’ I looked down at my shoes.

‘Are you embarrassed about something?’

‘What?’ I looked back up.

‘It’s just that your cheeks are quite red …’

I gave him a rap with the large candy cane I’d had hanging in my belt. ‘Very funny. Anyway, what are you doing here? Xander had assured me that you wouldn’t be coming tonight. Some meeting or something?’

Cal took the cane off me and studied it for a moment before beginning to twirl it between his fingers, absent-mindedly.

‘Finished early, luckily for me,’ he said.

‘Unluckily for me.’

‘Wow. I’ve made that good an impression?’ Cal took a small step back and I suddenly realised how that sounded.

‘Oh no! I mean … I just sort of hoped you wouldn’t be here tonight.’

‘Right.’ He gave a nod.

‘Not because I didn’t … it’s just that … oh for goodness’ sake, Cal. Look at me!’

He took the step back closer again. ‘I am looking.’

‘I look a complete idiot.’

‘I think you look cute. In fact –’ he leant towards me so that I could feel his warm breath on my ear, contrasting exquisitely with the crisp, cold air of the night ‘– I think you might be the cutest elf I’ve ever seen.’

Never in my life would I have believed I’d ever think this but – thank God my mum drew big rosy cheeks on me earlier – because right now, I was pretty sure my own would have been indistinguishable from them.

‘You’re making fun,’ I croaked out, before clearing my throat quickly.

Cal smiled and held out the candy cane. I kept my eyes focused on it for a moment before I closed my hand around it, my fingers brushing Cal’s. Slowly my gaze began scanning up the broad chest, over the day-old dark stubble, and finally arrested when it met those intense grey eyes.

‘I’m really not,’ he said softly, his voice almost a whisper, but roughened with the raw edge he always spoke with.

I swallowed, not sure how to respond. I was out of practice at all of this. Way out of practice.

‘Oh,’ I eventually squeaked out.

A fleeting expression of amusement mixed with confusion scudded across Cal’s eyes. He held my gaze for a moment longer as he released his hold on the cane entirely.

‘Thank you,’ I mumbled, dropping my gaze as I felt the warmth burn again beneath my make-up.

‘I should go and find George.’

I nodded.

Cal gave a half-smile accompanied by a tiny headshake and headed off into the shop behind me. As he left, I realised I’d been holding my breath. I let it out in one slow movement, waving at the passing shoppers as I tried to pretend I was feeling perfectly normal and parts of me weren’t currently a lot more … alive … than they had been in a long while.

‘Ooh la la!’ Giselle exclaimed as she appeared beside me and gave me a big hug. She was followed by Xander who did the same.

I glanced down at my costume. ‘Not the first expression that came to mind when I saw it again, I must admit.’

‘I wasn’t talking about the costume. I was talking about you and Cal!’

‘I … what?’

‘We were just on our way over when Dan went into the shop with George and left you two alone. Very tactful by the way.’

‘He wasn’t doing it to leave us alone. He was …’ I looked from Giselle to Xander. OK. So, apparently he was. I’d totally missed that.

‘And from the looks of it, Cal was pretty pleased about it. All that whispering in your ear, and then the whole candy cane thing … Oh my!’ Giselle flapped a cerise leather gloved hand just under her chin.

I rolled my eyes. ‘Did you two have popcorn whilst you enjoyed the show? Really, it was nothing. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it. He’s probably just had a mulled wine or two.’

‘Cal doesn’t drink.’

‘Oh.’

‘Well … maybe …’

‘Maybe he likes you?’ Giselle tilted her head at me. ‘Ever think of that?’

I fiddled with the pompom on the end of my hat. ‘Honestly? No.’

Giselle gave Xander a glance.

‘Maybe it’s time you did think about it, Muppet. And you know I wouldn’t be telling you that if I didn’t think he was good enough for you.’

I nodded. ‘I know. But honestly, that’s the last thing I’m looking for. Especially right now. Plus he has a little boy.’

‘So? I would’ve thought you’d be the last person to be put off by that.’ Xander frowned at me.

‘I’m not put off. It’s just … it’s another consideration. I made a complete mess of my last relationship and I’m not about to launch into something else feet first again, even if Cal was interested. Which, by the way, I don’t think he is. Things get messy and painful and I’m certainly not going to involve a five-year-old in that!’

Xander gave me a quick squeeze around the shoulders. ‘You can’t think all relationships are going to end messily, you know.’

‘I don’t.’

‘Good.’

‘Just mine.’

Xander blew out a sigh and gave me a look. Giselle patted him on the arm.

‘We shall see,’ she said, enigmatically. ‘Now, we’re going to head off and do some pressie shopping. See you later.’ Giselle kissed me on my bright red cheek and they headed off towards to the warm glow of the little shops, all decorated for the season, their soft lights enticing shoppers in out of the cold.

Before I got a chance to think much more on the subject, another group of shoppers surrounded me, and the inevitable elf-selfie session ensued. As they moved to swap places, over the top of them I caught a glance of Cal. George was boosted up onto his hip, resting his head on his father’s shoulder with Bear cuddled into him. Opposite him was a tall, elegant woman. Her long, slim legs were encased in denim and finished off with boots that had a fur trim, as did the fitted jacket she wore. On her head she wore one of those big Russian-style fur hats. Her make-up was flawless and she looked – as did the young child whose hand she held – like she’d stepped from a magazine. Giselle was most definitely right about Cal and his play date popularity status.

I smiled at the camera for the group still surrounding me before letting my eyes wander again. The woman laughed at something Cal said, her hand resting briefly – but a touch longer than was necessary – on his arm. He smiled and dipped his head as he hoisted George a little higher.

The group of shoppers thanked me, and headed into the shop. Dan was right. The costumes definitely helped boost sales. I glanced at the woman and Cal and then down at my stripy legs, and the curly-toed shoes, which were now slowly wicking up dampness from the ground. I flicked the pompom on the end of my hat as it dangled in front of my nose. Sales it might boost; ego it most certainly did not.

Chapter Six

The newly installed bell tinkled on the back of the door and from my position at the top of a ladder restocking the top shelf, I saw Cal and George enter the shop. I called out a greeting and received a smile and wave from Cal and an unusually half-hearted response from the little boy.

‘Be with you in a minute,’ I said as I descended the metal steps and then folded them up, carrying them quickly to the back stock room and leaning them up against the wall. ‘Hi!’ I said, emerging again.

‘Hello.’ George’s greeting was as lukewarm as his wave.

I glanced up at Cal.

‘George isn’t feeling too great and his friends are all playing snowballs but he’s not really up to it so I thought we’d stop in here and see if we couldn’t cheer him up a bit.’

‘Oh no! Well, obviously I’m very happy to see you but I’m not happy you’re feeling a bit under the weather.’ George looked above his head briefly in response to my terminology and Cal and I stifled a smile.

‘What’s feeling poorly then?’

George leant against his dad’s leg. ‘My tummy hurts.’

‘Oh dear. That’s not good, is it? I hope Bear’s looking after you.’

George let out a sigh and nodded.

I ran a hand gently over the little boy’s silky hair, being incredibly careful not to bump into his father’s thigh. If that happened, even if George didn’t have a temperature, I was pretty sure I might.

The doorbell tinkled and I glanced up, waving a hello to the Warner sisters, a couple of older ladies who had lived in the village for as long as I could remember. They were lovely, but it did pay to be careful what you mentioned to them as it had a way of soon becoming known by far more people than you’d originally intended.

‘He doesn’t feel warm but he does look a bit pale,’ I said, resting the back of my hand against George’s forehead.

‘Yeah. I’m going to take him home in a minute and get him into bed. I think he just overindulged in Christmas treats earlier. He was just keen on coming in to say hi and I thought it might take his mind off things for a minute.’

‘I’m glad you did. Is there anything I can do?’

George had now relinquished his hold on his dad’s leg and wandered across the shop. Cal glanced over to where his son was now talking to the ladies as they all looked at the individual crackers piled into a large, wide wicker basket threaded with red silk ribbon, their marbled paper making each one unique. His gaze moved from his son and landed squarely on me. The smile it brought with it made my insides go all flippy and warm.

Doing my best to ignore that, and deciding instead that I needed an immediate distraction, I began unpacking a box of handmade lollipops, sticking their handles in a large piece of florist’s foam I’d sprayed white earlier. One dome was for the gingerbread-flavoured ones, the other for peppermint.

‘No, I don’t think there’s anything you can do,’ Cal answered, ‘but thank you anyway.’

I nodded without looking at him and finished displaying the lollies. Reaching behind me, I grabbed a gingerbread man from the shelf. ‘Ginger’s good for the tummy. And if George doesn’t want it, you’ve already taste tested them so I assume you approve and you can just eat it as … support.’

Cal’s mouth quirked. ‘A support biscuit?’

I nodded my head at George. ‘If he’s anything like our lot when they don’t feel well, believe me, you’re going to need it.’

Cal brought out some change from his pocket but I pushed his hand away. ‘It’s on the house.’

‘You need to stop giving me stuff for free. Don’t you know anything about business?’ The quirk grew into a wider smile.

‘You’d be surprised what I know.’

George was now on his way back to us, the ladies completely enamoured with him, but not entirely missing the opportunity to give his dad a quick once-over with their eyes. One of them had clearly caught the end of our conversation. As I smiled at their approach, she gave a quick eyebrow raise at me and winked. Cal noticed the exchange and chuckled, shaking his head. I blushed, grinned, and studied my shoes for a moment.

‘I’m dreading what interpretation of that comment is going to be across the village by tomorrow,’ I whispered.

Cal smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll reassure them it was all perfectly innocent if questioned.’

For some reason, this made me blush even more and I decided it was vitally urgent to get some gift bags ready for the next purchase and ducked my head under the desk, feeling my skin cool now I was no longer under Cal’s direct gaze.

‘Can I help you, ladies?’ I asked, as I popped back up, smiling and hoping to affect an immediate diversion of their thoughts.

They smiled and nodded and handed over the basket they’d filled between them.

‘We should be going,’ Cal said, with a half-smile at me.

I didn’t want him to go just yet. George seemed pale but a little brighter and as silly and unexpected as it felt, I’d begun to realise that the more often he and George came into the shop, the more I looked forward to it. Cal glanced down at his son who was now peering at the lollipop porcupine.

‘Do you want to help me with these, George?’ I asked, nodding at the ladies’ purchases.

George looked round at me, his little face still pale. He gave a watery smile and plodded over to the desk.

‘I’m having trouble wrapping these up. Would you mind giving me a hand?’

‘OK.’

I quickly bent and hefted him up onto the desk so that his legs dangled over the edge.

‘Right. So if I fold the paper here, would you be able to hold it whilst I put some sticky tape on it?’

George nodded and we did a couple of the ladies’ parcels, passing idle chat with them about the weather, their upcoming plans for Christmas and the New Year, and anything else random I could think of in an attempt to distract them. I could already see the gossip forming in their brains from the partly overheard conversation, as well as from the simple fact that the Prodigal Daughter was now back in the village and, with one broken engagement behind her, was now chatting with perhaps the most good-looking man in the entire county.

From the corner of my eye, I saw the odd surreptitious glance being sent Cal’s way and could only hope he hadn’t noticed. From the conversations we’d had, and from the odd snippet I’d heard from Giselle, Cal Martin was a pretty private man and making himself the target of extra gossip, even if it was innocent, probably wasn’t high on his To-Do list. I was used to it all but Cal hadn’t grown up here and I didn’t want it to be a reason for him to stop coming in.

I’d actually been telling the truth that first day when I told him their visit had brightened my day. Even though I wasn’t about to get sucked into Giselle and Xander’s imaginings about what Cal Martin’s interests might be, I couldn’t deny that I looked forward to seeing him.

I turned my attention back to George who was now participating but his pale and wan face looked a little fed up. I knew he loved the shop and all the toys and unusual items we had that he was allowed to explore and touch but, like any five-year-old boy, he would clearly much rather be out in the snow with his friends. I caught his eye and gave him a smile as I snapped some tape off the dispenser. He did his best to return it and my heart went all squishy. I got him to hold the edges of the wrapping paper and on the next fold, I stuck the tape right over the end of his fingers.

‘Oh no! Oh dear! Look at that! You’re all stuck to it too. It looks like these lovely ladies have got more than they planned with their Christmas shopping … although I’m not sure I’ve got a bag quite big enough to pop you in! Let me see here …’

George began to giggle as I pretended to look under the desk for a bag.

‘Nooooo! Lexi! I’m not for sale!’ He swung his legs a little as he giggled and Cal’s large hand quickly moved and provided a buffer between the toe of George’s welly and my cheekbone.

I stood up, surprise on my face, exchanging the quickest of thank-you glances with Cal as I did so.

‘You’re not?’ I said, shock in my voice.

‘No!’ George replied, his voice giggly. ‘Of course, I’m not!’

‘Oh dear. I’m so sorry, ladies. It looks like we’ll have to keep him here.’

‘Oh no, what a shame!’ They joined in the game and George giggled some more as I finished off wrapping the last purchase and processing the transaction. I handed them the gift bags containing their goodies, and we all waved them off out of the shop. Neither Cal, nor I missed the slight glance they cast between us as they pulled the door closed behind them and headed out into the damp street.

‘Come on, pest. Let’s get you home and tucked up.’ Cal effortlessly scooped his son up with one arm.

‘Can I just look at the sleigh quickly, Daddy?’

Cal plopped George down on the floor. ‘Two minutes.’

His son nodded, crossed the shop, and began investigating the sleigh Matt had built as another novel way of displaying stock. Within moments, he had climbed aboard and was busily amusing himself by having a long conversation with the oversized teddy driving it.

Cal leant back against the desk, and grinned down at me.

‘What?’

‘You. This place. But mostly you.’

‘Oh dear. What have I done now? If it’s about earlier, when I said about surprising you with what I know, I didn’t mean …’

Cal raised an eyebrow, waiting.

‘Anything,’ I finished, weakly.

‘I know.’ He grinned. ‘Don’t worry about it. I think you brightened up the Warner sisters’ day anyway with whatever spin they were putting on it in their own minds, from that wink she gave you.’

I laughed, feeling anxiety release from me. ‘I was hoping you hadn’t seen that.’

‘I don’t miss much.’

I made a mental note of that.

‘Actually I think it was George who brightened their day the most.’

Cal gave a wide smile and glanced to where George was now pressing his nose against the window, peering out into the dark and watching the snowflakes drift down.

‘And I don’t think you were too far behind in the stakes either.’

At my comment he turned back to face me. ‘Sorry?’

I shrugged. ‘Just saying.’

Cal laughed and shook his head. ‘I should get him home. He’ll keep fighting it otherwise and feel worse.’

‘Dan and I were the same when we were his age, apparently.’

Cal raised a brow. ‘From what I know of you now, I’d say not too much has changed.’

I gave a conciliatory shrug and smiled at George who was now drawing happy faces in the steam from his breath on the window. ‘George,’ Cal called, gently. ‘Lexi’s going to have to clean that.’

George looked round. ‘Oops. Sorry, Lexi.’

‘Don’t worry about it, peanut.’

Cal mouthed the word “sorry”.

‘No, seriously. I have seven nieces and nephews. Believe me, if a window is the worst thing I have to clean up, I’m totally winning.’

Cal let out a laugh – deep and rumbling – and if I let it, I knew it would wrap itself around me like one of the cashmere blankets stacked up for sale, just as warm and just as soft. He cast his eye down at his son. ‘They can definitely be a challenge in that department.’ The love in his eyes as he said it showed he didn’t mind a bit. I felt the familiar twist in my stomach and squished it down, pasting a smile on instead.

‘Ready for home, then?’ Cal asked.

George nodded.

‘Say bye to Lexi then.’

I bent down and George flung his arms around my neck. ‘I love coming here. It’s like Christmas all the time.’

‘It is at the moment – you’re right. And you’re welcome any time you want, but you have to go and get into bed and get better first. OK?’ I gave him a little squish. He released me and I stood.

‘OK.’ George took Cal’s outstretched hand and waved as they headed to the door. Cal raised a hand and smiled as he turned, pulling the door closed behind him. The shop was once more silent, except for the Christmas music playing subtly in the background. Reaching under the desk, I grabbed a duster and the bottle of window cleaner and headed over to where George had been drawing faces. I crouched and huffed over the same spot and the smiley face appeared again. I waited until it faded again and then cleaned the glass.

Calmly, I walked back to the desk and tidied the cleaning items away, before stepping into the back room to flick on the kettle. It would be time to go home soon but I needed something to do, to occupy my mind. I went through the motions but it wasn’t working. There were times when nothing worked. I only hoped that, one day, things might become a little easier to deal with.

Chapter Seven

Weak winter sunlight filtered through the chink in my curtains where I hadn’t quite pulled them enough, highlighting a strip of floor at the end of which lay the long, gangly legs of our family’s Great Dane, Apollo. His big square head rested on the rug beside my bed as he peacefully snored, the gentle rumbling causing the large pink tongue that lolloped out of the side of his mouth to reverberate with each exhalation.

I rolled over and watched him for a while, then dropped my hand down out of the warmth of the covers and stroked his golden coat gently with my fingertips. He snuffled a little, stretched out his back legs, and pushed himself closer to the bed, then went back to snoring. We both lay there for a while until nature could no longer wait for either of us.

Getting up, I padded over to my door, and unlocked and opened it. Apollo scooted down the steps, sniffed around for a suitable spot, did what he needed to, and then charged around the back of the house to find his breakfast. I did what I needed to, threw on some clothes and – after inspecting the bread I had in my little kitchenette – binned it and followed Apollo’s example of heading to the main house in search of food.

Both suitably fed and watered and having given time for the dog’s breakfast to go down, I pootled back up to my room and tidied myself up a little more, slapping some protective BB cream on my face before wrapping a cosy scarf around my neck and shrugging into my down-filled jacket and pulling up the fur-lined hood over my woolly hat. I grabbed my boots and sat on the doorstep lacing them up as Apollo wandered out, a lead attached to his collar and trailing behind him.

Mum tapped on the kitchen window, gave me a thumbs up and waved. I returned all the gestures and descended the steps, which, since hearing about my incident the other evening, my dad had been religiously gritting every day. When I got to the bottom I picked up Apollo’s lead.

‘Come on then, boy.’

Apollo did the little excited dance he always did before going on a walk and we set off. Heading across the fields, I unclipped the catch and let the dog run free. He charged about crazily for a while, braking suddenly every now and then when the possibility of an interesting sniff distracted him. Occasionally he would run back to me, assessing that I was still there, before charging off again.

After a little while, he returned to my side and we made our way through the crunchy, frost-hardened grass and leftover stems of the autumn. Together we plodded along, Apollo stopping occasionally when he caught the scent of something else worth investigating, before trotting along to catch up and walk beside me again.

Cutting across the edge of another field, I clipped Apollo’s lead and held it loosely over my wrist as we made our way back onto the pavement at the top of the village. In front of us stood the beautifully converted barn that was now home to Cal and George. I pushed open the gate, closed it behind me, and together we crunched over the gravelled circular driveway of the house.

I faltered a little as we approached the door, losing my nerve. But I was here now. What if Cal happened to see me and I just left? That wouldn’t be awkward at all … I knocked on the door quickly before I had too much more time to overthink. There was no answer and I hesitated for a moment, shifting my weight from foot to foot as Apollo sat beside me patiently, his bottom out to the side in a slouchy puppy sit.

‘What do you think, boy?’ I asked him in a whisper, ‘Do I knock again or shall we just go?’

Apollo looked up at me and tilted his head.

‘Good idea. I totally agree. Come on then.’

As I made to turn away, I heard the lock on the solid wood door thrown and it was pulled open. Dressed in blue checked pyjama bottoms and a white T-shirt, Cal looked absolutely shattered, not to mention way too sexy in a rumpled, just-got-out-of-bed way, for this time on a Sunday morning.

‘Lexi! Come in.’

I waved a hand. ‘No, it’s fine. I’m so sorry, Cal. I didn’t mean to wake you. We were out for a walk and thought I’d just pop in and see how George was feeling.’

Cal rubbed a hand over his face and gave me a sleepy smile that I responded to in more ways than I’m sure he’d planned for – and certainly more than I’d planned for.

‘Better, thanks. I’m sorry, maybe it wasn’t just too much Christmas food. He really went down with it a little while after we left you and he’s had a pretty rough night but seems to be over the worst now, thank goodness. He’s got a little colour back and he’s managed a bit of porridge so I think once he’s caught up on his sleep, he’ll be fine. I hope he didn’t manage to pass it on to you or anyone else.’ Cal looked sheepish.

Lexi shook her head. ‘I’m fine. And what about you?’

Cal looked confused for a moment. ‘Me?’

I smiled. ‘Yes. You.’

‘I’m … OK. Thanks.’ He gave me a half-smile that did little to disguise his apparent surprise at him being asked after.

‘Right. Because you look dreadful.’ As soon as the words were out, I was aware how different they’d sounded in my head. Cal was just looking at me. And then he was laughing, really laughing in a way that couldn’t fail to make a woman smile – even if she had just made an idiot of herself. Again.

‘Thanks.’

‘That sort of came out wrong.’

‘Did it?’

‘Yes.’

‘So I don’t look dreadful?’ One eyebrow raised over still-sleepy eyes. Being auntie to a small hoard, I knew mischief when I saw it.

‘No, you do but … oh crap. OK. I’m just going to stop talking now and let you get back to bed and rest.’

Cal threw me a half-smile. ‘I wish. I’ve got a car to go and see. Martha should be here shortly to look after George and then I need to head off. It’s a long drive anyway.’

I took in the utter exhaustion on his face, and the way he was using the door to hold himself up.

‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? You look absolutely exhausted. Can you not put it off until tomorrow or something?’

He shook his head, stifling a yawn as he did so. ‘Unfortunately, not. This guy already told me he’s had offers from other people. If it’s as good as it sounds, I’ll be laughing at auction. But they won’t wait. They’re moving and are just trying to clear stuff out as soon as possible. I can’t afford to miss out on this.’ The last word disappeared on a yawn and I shook my head.

‘OK. Then let me drive you.’

‘What?’

‘If you really must go today, then let me come with you and drive. That way you can at least get some rest in the car.’

‘You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.’

‘Don’t take this the wrong way – but you look far from fine. And if you won’t do it for yourself, then think of George.’

Cal tilted his head down at me. ‘Low blow.’

I screwed up my face. ‘Did it work?’

‘Yes. Are you sure?’

‘Positive. It’ll be nice for me to do something different too. Plus it’ll give me a chance to connect with cars in some small way again.’

‘You miss it.’ It was a statement rather than a question.

I nodded. ‘I do.’

He gave one quick nod in response before his gaze dropped to the dog. ‘Is Apollo coming for a ride?’

‘No, I think he’d probably rather be sprawled out by the Aga for the afternoon.’

‘Smart dog. Do you want me to pick you up or do you want to wait? I’ve just got to jump in the shower quickly.’

‘I can wait, if you don’t mind the dog coming in too? We can just stay by the door.’

‘Don’t be daft,’ Cal said, ushering us both inside. ‘I’ve got an old towel here somewhere …’ He stuck his head in a cupboard in the hallway and pulled out a towel, ‘Here.’ He tossed it to me and I gave Apollo a quick rub over and then carefully dried his feet one by one as the dog gently laid each paw in my lap, ready for the familiar procedure.

‘Wow. He’s really good at that.’

‘Practice,’ I replied, glancing up at Cal as I stood. ‘There. All dried.’ I kicked off my own boots and wiggled my toes. ‘But we’ll stay here anyway.’

‘No, you won’t. I need coffee. Want one?’

It did sound good. ‘OK. Yes, thanks.’ We all shuffled off towards the kitchen and Cal made himself busy with the fancy coffee machine on his worktop. I could strip a car engine practically with my eyes closed but the coffee machine looked far more complicated than it needed to be for such a simple task. All I generally needed was a spoon.

‘That looks fancy,’ I said, eyeing the equipment.

‘Yeah. I had a moment. Although I do have to say, it makes really good coffee. But then again it should.’ He pulled a face.

I shrugged. ‘You should enjoy the indulgence. If you work hard, it’s good to reward yourself sometimes. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it.’

Cal gave me a maybe yes, maybe no face. ‘I know you’re right but …’

‘You have trouble believing you’re worthy of it?’

He shot me a look and I could see the faintest blush on his cheeks.

‘Sorry. Mum tells me I can be a bit blunt sometimes. I didn’t mean to –’

‘No. It’s fine. I like blunt. I know where I stand with blunt. And yes, I think you’re right. No one has ever put it like that before. Or at least they haven’t told me to my face.’

This time it was my turn to blush.

‘I promise I’ll just drive. I won’t say anything else.’ I made a zipping motion with my fingers across my mouth, and mimed tossing away a key.

Cal gave that deep laugh. It was one of those that surrounded you and made you smile from somewhere deep inside. ‘I really hope not. That would make what was shaping up to be an enjoyable day far more dull.’

I pulled my mouth to the side, unsure. Cal stepped closer to me and touched my fingertips with his own.

‘I like your honesty, Lexi. Like I say, I know where I stand with you. It’s … not always been the case.’ His thumb brushed the back of my hand and I lifted my gaze, but his was on our hands. Sensing that he was being watched, his eyes shifted and met mine. I knew I should look away and that this was veering into dangerous territory for me. But I couldn’t. I stayed exactly where I was, my gaze locked with Cal’s.

His mouth remained serious for a moment, and then, suddenly, he stepped back breaking the spell. The sensible part of me was relieved but the churn of emotions rushing through the rest of me said something else and right now, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

‘Thanks for coming round. George was really upset about feeling poorly and missing out on the snowball fight and everything last night.’

‘There will be other times, I’m sure. They’re forecasting snow for the next few weeks, I heard this morning. The bookies have been cutting the odds of a white Christmas left, right, and centre, apparently.’

His mouth began to curve. ‘Didn’t take you to be the betting type.’

‘No, not at all.’ I laughed. ‘I’m more the full of useless information type.’

The half-smile grew and I did my best to remember that the last thing I needed was romantic complications in my life. Been there. Done that. Not prepared to go there again. I risked a glance back up at him. Bloody hell, he was gorgeous. How did anyone look that good after a night up with a sick child? Was that even legal?

Cal took a breath in and the half-smile was back. ‘Lexi, I –’

‘Daddy!’ George’s voice, wobblier than it normally sounded, rang down the hall towards us.

Cal gave me a look and a little shake of his head, the smile turning from whatever it had been – I was still working on that – to resigned.’

‘Yeah, Georgie, I’m coming.’ He turned to me. ‘Do you two want to come and say hello? He was pretty miserable earlier. I’m sure seeing you both would cheer him up no end.’

‘We’d love to.’

Cal smiled at me and I patted my leg for Apollo to come to heel and he plodded beside me, now a little weary from his explorations on our walk this morning. George was wriggling upright in the bed as his Dad pushed open the door wider and went in. Cal held up a hand to Apollo and I following just behind.

‘Just let me check there’s not been any more …’

I nodded so that he didn’t have to finish the statement.

‘What is it, little mate?’ Cal’s voice was gentle and soothing and I couldn’t resist peeking around the corner of the doorjamb. I wasn’t worried about seeing anything that might upset my delicate sensibilities – primarily because I didn’t have any. I came from a large family that mostly consisted of men and I had spent my college years mostly with blokes who, for reasons I still failed to fathom, felt that the best thing to do after downing a vat of beer at night was to top it off with a greasy kebab. I also had a small brood of nieces and nephews, from which not a single one stood out as not having weed, pooed, or thrown up on me at some point in time. In short, I didn’t scare easily.

‘I’m bored and my tummy hurts,’ George said, his face pale and tired as Cal squatted beside the bed.

‘Martha is going to be here soon and she can read you some more of your story. I know your tummy hurts but it’s better than it was, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ George replied, nodding sadly.

‘Good. And it will get easier as the day goes on. It’s just a bit worn out, like you and me, and needs some sleep. After your story, and a little snooze, you’ll be feeling much better. I promise.’

‘OK. Do you have to go out?’ George’s little hand snuck into his father’s large one.

From my hidden vantage point, I saw a wash of pain cross Cal’s face and something twisted inside me.

‘I’m sorry, Georgie. I do. If I could put it off, I would. But I want you to sleep as much as you can today to make up for last night, so you won’t even notice too much that I’m not here.’

George nodded but he was clearly unconvinced, even though I could see by the state of him that Cal was right. The little boy was heading straight for zonkville. In an ideal world, his dad would be too but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

‘In the meantime, there are some people here to see you.’ Cal leant back and saw me peeking. A smile slid onto his face at catching me. He indicated for us to come in and George’s face beamed as he saw us. My smile got wider at his joy as Apollo loped towards him and laid his big head on the duvet around George’s lap and looked up at him with big, heartbreaker eyes. George giggled and folded himself down to wrap his arms around Apollo’s head and cuddled him.

‘Do I get one of those?’ I asked.

George sat up, still grinning as he threw his arms out for me. I wrapped mine around his little body and gave him a big cuddle as Apollo watched us, quirking first one brow and then the other. The dog let out a sigh and slid back into his puppy sit position, his hip resting against Cal’s leg now that he had stood to make way for us next to the bed.

‘I’ve had a poorly tummy,’ George said, as he released me.

‘I know, sweetheart. But you’re looking much better than you did yesterday so you just concentrate on getting better now.’

‘OK.’ George nodded, his hand gravitating to Apollo’s head resting on the bed. He began stroking it and, within moments, both George’s and the dog’s eyes were beginning to droop.

Cal motioned to me and we moved quietly from the room. Once outside, he turned to me. ‘Next time I have trouble getting him to sleep, can you pop over with the dog?’

I grinned. ‘Sure. No problem.’

He returned my grin. ‘OK, I’d better grab that shower. Martha has a key so she’ll let herself in. Wait anywhere you like. Just make yourself at home. I’ll see you in a few minutes.’

‘OK.’ I watched as Cal walked at a fast pace off down the hallway and turned out of sight, before pushing all random thoughts of Cal and showers firmly out of my mind. Wandering back into George’s room, I saw the little boy had now snuggled down in his bed, one arm still around Apollo and the other around Bear. Someone was snoring softly. I ruled out Bear and after glancing at both the other sleeping forms, pinned the blame firmly on the dog and gave him a gentle stroke.

Apollo had soothed many a child – and adult – to sleep since he’d come to us as a gangly puppy three years ago. His gentle nature and mere presence had a way of calming even the busiest of minds. Which probably accounted for why he was currently sleeping at the side of, and occasionally on top of, my bed most nights now. Just knowing he was there made everything that tiny bit less overwhelming. And I was glad he had now worked his magic on little George.

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