Page 104 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Owen was. Before the Fayre had ended, he had taken a couple of quick snaps and had posted them online to wrap up his blog on the subject of not buying anything new. He was now considering how to help schools champion their own Eco Advisors – with Sara’s help and Harriet’s permission.

‘I want to send it to my parents and my brother,’ he said, showing her the photo that he had received earlier. ‘I’ve got my own family now.’

‘Do you mean that?’

‘I’ve never meant anything more in my life. Now, gather round and say cheese.’

‘Cheese!’

‘What a day!’ Harriet collapsed onto her sofa with a deep sigh, stretched out her legs and wiggled her toes. They were clad in a pair of snuggly Nordic socks that she had bought at the Christmas Fayre. Their previous owner had never worn them, disliking their colourful cheeriness; however, Harriet thought they reflected her bright mood perfectly.

She yawned. ‘I’m shattered. It’s been fun, though, hasn’t it? I can’t believe how much food my mam cooked. My parents are going to be eating bubble and squeak for the next week.’

Etta scrambled onto the sofa and cuddled into her, and Harriet absently stroked the dog’s floppy ears. Etta let out a contented groan. The dog should be happy after the amount of turkey she’d eaten. It was a wonder the little creature hadn’t burst.

‘I love a bit of bubble and squeak,’ Owen declared. He handed her a glass of mulled wine, sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She curled up and snuggled into him, feeling the solidity of his chest on her cheek and the strength of his arm as he held her close.

On the other side of her, Etta opened one eye, wagged her tail at Owen and then went back to her snoozing.

‘Comfy?’ Owen burrowed his face into Harriet’s hair, seeking the sensitive delicate skin just behind her ear, and when he found it, he kissed her, making her squirm with delighted ticklishness. He was very good at walking that thin line between making her shriek with laughter and making her gasp with desire.

‘It was nice of your mum to make me a nut roast and vegetarian gravy,’ Owen said.

‘You are a member of the family now. But I’ve got to warn you, you’ll probably be sick of nut roast by the time next Christmas comes around.’

‘You think I’ll still be here next Christmas?’ he teased.

‘You’d better be,’ Harriet warned. ‘You don’t want Pen hunting you down again.’

‘I’m so glad she did.’ Owen put his glass down on the floor by his feet and took hers out of her hand, putting that on the floor too.

‘Oi, I hadn’t finished!’ she protested.

‘I thought you might want me to kiss you, but if you prefer to drink wine—’

‘Kiss me, kiss me,’ she urged, anxious to feel his lips on hers now that he had put the idea into her head. They could drink the wine later. Much later, if she had her way…

‘Before I do,’ he said, ‘there’s something I want to tell you. I’ve decided to sell the van.’

Harriet sucked in a breath. ‘Why?’ She hadn’t been expecting him to say anything like that, and she wondered what had made him decide.

‘Because I want to buy a house. I told you that I’m serious about settling down in Foxmore, so I think it’s time I put down roots here.’

Over my dead body, she thought. ‘I don’t think you should sell it. The van has been a part of your life for so long that you’ll only regret it. I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you move in with us?’

‘Pardon?’

‘I’m serious. Why don’t you move in with me and the children?’

When he didn’t say anything, Harriet wondered whether it had been too soon to mention something so momentous. He probably wasn’t ready for such a commitment and—

‘I’d love to.’ He was gazing at her with such adoration that she was finding it difficult to breathe. ‘But what about the van?’ he asked. ‘There’s no point in keeping it, if we’re living together.’

‘There is – we’re going to need something to take our holidays in,’ she said. ‘And the first one should be in the New Year, to Narberth. You’ve met my parents, it’s only fair I meet yours. I want to see where you grew up.’

‘They’ll love you,’ he said. ‘And the children.’ He squirmed around on the sofa so he was facing her. ‘What a brilliant idea!’ He drew her close and bent his head.

Harriet lifted her chin, closing her eyes, ready to be kissed. But before his lips met hers, she said, ‘We might as well begin as we mean to go on. Stay the night… Please?’

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