Page 20 of The Day After Christmas
‘I mean it. I don’t know what to say.’
She stared at him for a moment or two longer, eyes wide, tears prickling at her eyes even as a smile began to form. James smiled back, a huge, warm smile, as if he was delighted to make her happy, then stood up and walked across the room towards her. He took the paper from her hands, placed it carefully down on the coffee table, then pulled her to her feet.
‘You don’t need to say anything,’ he said, his voice growing husky as he looked down into her face, his thumbs wiping her cheeks gently. She could feel the heat of his body, and his nearness made her entire body tingle.
‘But I do. I need to say thank you.’
‘It was nothing. Honestly.’
‘Take me back to bed,’ she said, surprising even herself.
James’s eyebrows lifted to the ceiling.
‘Promise you won’t be thinking about your father the whole time?’
Felicity giggled. ‘Not the whole time, no.’
‘Gross.’
‘Sorry, I mean, of course, I promise.’
‘Then lead on, fair maiden.’
CHAPTER 12
Felicity trundled to work on Monday with her head in a fog.
She was still completely exhausted, for a start. Emotionally and – ahem – physically too. Despite what had happened to them at the beginning of the year, losing their baby like that, despite the sadness she felt, for some reason the desire to be with James was stronger than ever. In a strange way it helped her forget the pain just for a little while. Or perhaps deep down she wanted to get pregnant again? Maybe that was it? She couldn’t really work out what it was she really wanted. James didn’t seem to be complaining, but truth be told it had been a while since she had been this… um… active?
James was rather – er, well, let’s just say he was in good shape, whereas Felicity… wasn’t. Fitness-wise, she was about as active as a sea cucumber. She’d never been overweight but when all was said and done, Felicity much preferred sitting down. If there was a biscuit involved, that was even better. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done anything you might count as proper exercise. When James came along with his muscles and his fitness club membership and swept her off her feet in his fancy penguin suit, she’d had no time to quickly pop along toRothesay Road gym a few hundred thousand times to ease the deficit.
The upshot? Felicity was knackered, that was the technical term. Too much sex and not enough sleep. Not a problem she was really used to having. Not a problem she ever thought she’d be likely to complain about but still, here we were.
She was knackered, and she was befuddled. Confused. Bewildered, even.
She’d been carrying the piece of paper with her father’s number on it all weekend as if afraid to lose it, but she had yet to summon up the courage to call him. She was so mad with him it was almost crippling in its intensity. Her stomach was in a permanently clenched state. And yet. And yet she wanted to see him. Maybe just once more. But not yet. All that wanting and wishing and pestering Tristan (who had never even replied, useless boy) and now she couldn’t bring herself to actually do it. For some irrational reason she wanted James to be there when she spoke to him. Didn’t want to be alone when Harry rejected her out of hand all over again. At the very least, he’d agree to a coffee, surely? Felicity knew she could be persuasive when she wanted to be. Maybe James would even agree to come with her. A blond titan for backup.
Ah, James. The thought of him still made her body respond in ways she never thought possible. Had all but given up on when he swanned (or should that be penguinned?) into her life.
When James knocked on the door of Animal Saviours on Christmas Eve with a tiny kitten in his hands, she had known, somehow, that he was going to be important. But she could never have known justhowimportant he would turn out to be. Not just because he was gorgeous and sexy, although that all helped of course. But it was the way he gently eased into her life, like he could see her insecurities printed across her forehead. The way he insisted she trust him when that wasn’t exactly herstrong suit. The way he promised her he would win her trust even if it took him a lifetime. And so far, he had lived up to that promise. Always calling when he said he would. Always putting her first. Just being there for her. There was a lot to be said for it.
Felicity stared at the piece of paper for the fourteen millionth time. There was little point as she’d already memorised the number and put it into her smartphone, but still, it was comforting, somehow, the sight of those digits. Just sitting there on the page in their no-nonsense sans serif fourteen-point font. Taunting her with their practicality. Eleven little numbers that were all that stood between her and Harry. Who, for some unknown reason, had become someone she now simply had to see. Even if it was just to slap his face. At least it would prove he was real.
At that very moment, Andrea appeared in the doorway, Charlie looming behind her like a shadow.
‘Felicity Brooks. I know daydreaming is fun and all but can we expect you to join us at any point? The RSPCA will be here shortly. Two rabbits have turned into six rabbits and a pigeon of all things, apparently. Can you get the extra basket from the storeroom?’
Felicity waved a hand absently. ‘Sorry. Yep. I’ll be there in a sec.’
Andrea wasn’t so easily dismissed. She blustered into the room and peered over Felicity’s shoulder, her long grey plait swinging behind her. She always smelt slightly musty, did Andrea. It had taken a while but Felicity had learnt to love her unique fragrance. Charlie flumped down into the chair beside her. His rather more enticing smell was something she was learning to filter out.
‘What’s that then? Been taking phone numbers behind old James’s back, have we?’ he said, that cheeky grin plastered all over his face.
‘What? Oh, no. This is my father’s number. Until the other day, I hadn’t seen him in thirty years.’
Charlie let out a low whistle. ‘That random guy was your dad? That’s huge.’
‘Yep.’
