Page 33 of Kiss Me at Christmas
Heavens to Betsy!How could she argue with that?
“And instead”—Harriet spoke slowly, choosing her words—“you feel likeyougot ghosted?”
“I’m not saying I didn’t deserve it; what goes around comes around and all that. And please understand, I am not suggesting that you owe me anything. I have the utmost respect for you. This is my personal journey, and I have no right to drag you along with me. But I thought we’d connected on more than merely a physical level. I’d hoped that might continue. And then I came out of the shower…”
“In my defense, I kind of thought the whole being-in-the-shower thing was my cue to leave. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“Why would you think that?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that she’d looked at his phone and seen a message from someone called Lyra, but she felt like admitting to reading his private messages might make things worse.
“Because in those situations, in my experience, that’s what men usually want. Easy breezy, no strings.”
James looked at her. He took a breath in through his nose, his lips pressed together as he listened.Good crikey, if only men knew how sexy they are when they actually listen.
“You’re right. Obviously, I can’t speak for other men, but for myself I have been guilty of being that person. Which is why I was hoping to do things differently this time. With you. I am trying to create more meaningful connections. Granted, inviting you straight into bed wasn’t exactly taking things slowly, but I had hoped thatour night together might be the beginning rather than the whole story.” He looked embarrassed. “I can see now that that’s not your responsibility.”
Harriet puffed out a breath. She was, as a rule, cautious of meaningful connections, because once made she was all in. It was one of the reasons she’d found it so easy to keep Pete as a genuine friend. She originated from loose connections, her roots severed when she was removed from neglectful parents at three years old and placed into the care system. It had made her scrupulous with her choices and fearlessly loyal to the people she did let in. But she wasn’t about to divulge any of this to a practical stranger, so she summoned her humor shield.
“I mean, I am all for personal growth. Like, ‘You go…guy.’ ” She reached forward awkwardly and gave him an encouraging bump on the shoulder. “My job is encouraging people to be the best version of themselves. But it is unfair for you to suddenly change the fundamental rules of the one-night stand as we know it and expect me to just instinctively know. That sort of societal restructuring requires a memo, at the very least.”
James’s face cracked into a smile. “Duly noted.”
“We have a real problem with getting our wires crossed.”
“Something to work on.” His expression was serious, but his eyes held a kindness that began a thaw somewhere deep inside her.
“Are we good?” Harriet asked. “We’re going to be working together for the next few weeks. I don’t want you to experience wrath every time you look at my face.”
He laughed then, and it was easy with unmistakable relief. “We’re good,” he assured her. “I’m sorry about the way I was in the police station too. There’s professionalism, and then there’s being an arsehole.”
“I’m not used to being in trouble with the law. You could have been the friendly face that I needed.”
“I know. Sorry. You took me by surprise. I’m not good with surprises.”
“No shizzle.”
“Which brings us to yesterday and another surprise sprung, where I behaved like a recalcitrant child, again. I apologize for that too. I will add ‘not being a dick when caught off guard’ to my list of things I need to work on.”
His earnestness caughtheroff guard. She couldn’t help her smile and found herself feeling shy under his frank gaze. It felt like she was meeting him for the first time, which was ridiculous, considering they’d already had very uninhibited, drunken coitus.
“Apologies accepted. And I’m sorry for any miscommunications that made things harder than they needed to be.”
They stood awkwardly in the hallway; a hug was too intimate, but a handshake felt too formal. In the end Harriet broke the tension.
“Come through, I just need to get my bag of cleaning supplies.”
“Mine are in the car,” he said.
She led him into the sitting room, where he stopped abruptly with a crease in his brow.
“What?” she asked. Was he judging her interior design skills?
“You’ve got no Christmas decorations up,” he said, confused.
“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. “Well, I mean, it is only the middle of November.”
Never mind that she wouldn’t be putting decorations up in December either.
