Page 48 of The Christmas Fayre on Holly Field

Harriet finished her scone and sat back. ‘I’m stuffed. That was wonderful – thank you.’

‘It was OK,’ Owen replied, modestly.

‘It was more than OK. Have you ever thought about becoming a chef?’

He chuckled. ‘I’m happy enough to cook for a friend, but the thought of cooking for a bunch of people I’ve never met scares the pants off me.’

‘I can’t imagine you being scared of anything,’ Harriet replied.

‘Believe me, I am.’

‘Like what?’ She cocked her head.

‘The usual – climate change, global warming, drought, deforestation…’ He got to his feet and began clearing away.

‘That’s quite a list. Anything else? Here, let me give you a hand.’ She stood up.

‘No chance! You’re a guest. Anyway, it won’t take me long. And in answer to your question, I’m not too keen on spiders.’

Harriet shuddered. ‘Neither am I. So I’m not going to be able to rely on you to rescue me from a great big hairy beastie with long black legs?’

‘Nope,’ he said cheerfully.

‘Then it’s a good thing Bobby doesn’t mind them, isn’t it?’

Owen was aware of how close she was standing, although, to be fair, the van wasn’t exactly roomy, so she didn’t have a lot of choice. ‘He’s more of a man than I am,’ he said, trying to keep the conversation light, despite the urge to lean in and kiss her. ‘I’d never be able to rescue a damsel in distress.’

‘Oh, I don’t know…’ Harriet’s voice was soft.

The sweet floral scent of her perfume filled his senses with longing, and he wanted to nuzzle into her neck and smell her skin. Her eyes were luminous, the pupils large, and he felt himself falling into her gaze. And when her lips parted and she lifted her chin, he was lost. He had to kiss her.

Without conscious thought, his body acting without any instruction from his brain, he took one small step…

A high-pitched yelp made them both jump, and he looked down to see Etta sitting at his feet, holding up a paw.

Contrite, he dropped into a crouch. ‘I’m sorry, little one. Did I tread on your paw? I didn’t mean it.’ He scooped the dog up and cradled her, checking her paw for any obvious signs of injury, hoping to goodness he hadn’t done any permanent damage. He simply wasn’t used to having an animal in the van, and he had been rather distracted.

‘She’s having you on,’ Harriet said, reaching for her coat. ‘She used to do this all the time when Declan and I…’ she trailed off.

Owen looked at the pooch, who seemed to be wearing a pleased expression on her doggy face. ‘No, I don’t believe it,’ he said.

‘It’s true. She gets so jealous. If you put her down, she’ll have forgotten which paw you were supposed to have stepped on and she’ll hold up the wrong one.’

Sure enough, when Owen gently put her on the floor, Etta immediately sat and held up her other paw. ‘The sneaky madam!’

‘It’s odd, though, she never does it when the kids and I hug.’ She blew out her cheeks. ‘Thanks so much for lunch. I enjoyed it. You must come to us next time.’

‘I’d like that.’

There was an awkward moment when Owen wondered whether he should try to kiss her again, but the mood had been well and truly broken, so he opened the van door instead and shrank aside to let her pass.

Etta, pleased as Punch with herself, jumped down the step after her mistress.

‘Bye, and thanks again,’ Harriet called as she strolled off, the dog at her heels, leaving Owen with the washing-up and a burning need to see her again.

Chapter 11

Blimmin’ heck, it’s autumn half-term next week, Harriet thought, as she hurried home from work on Tuesday. Where had the time gone? It seemed only yesterday that she was tearfully waving Sara off on the school bus for her first day in secondary school. Harriet had wanted to drive Sara the five miles herself, but her daughter had insisted she wanted to travel by bus and had been highly excited at the prospect.

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