Page 13 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
‘Of course. I’m glad I came to check on Felix.’
‘At least he hasn’t chewed through your fence reinforcements,’ Dexter said.
‘Yet,’ Harry replied ominously. ‘Good to meet you, Imogen, and thanks for coming over, Dex. Are you heading out this way?’
‘I’ll see myself out.’
Harry said goodbye and strode off across the grass. Felix bleated happily and trotted after him.
‘Can I walk you back to Birdie’s?’ Dexter asked.
‘I’d like that, but you’re on the wrong side of the fence.’
‘Oh. Right.’ He shrugged out of his coat, the marl grey sweatshirt he was wearing underneath it clinging to his torso which was, Imogen silently acknowledged, nicely defined. He laid his jacket over the fence, pushed it down and climbed over it.
‘Your beautiful coat,’ she protested.
‘It’s at least a decade old.’ Dexter pulled it off the fence, gave it a cursory glance, then slid his arms back through the sleeves. He gestured at the path and they started walking,the shushing of the waves providing a gentle soundtrack. ‘So you’ve fixed Harry’s problem, and you’ve only been here a couple of days.’
Imogen laughed. ‘If only it was as easy to fix my own.’
‘Have you spoken to … people?’
‘My fiancé, you mean?’ She patted Birdie’s coat pocket, where she’d stowed her switched-off phone. ‘I sent him a message. I know I need to talk to him, I just have no idea what to say.’
‘Hey.’ Dexter squeezed her shoulder, a quick, warm press. ‘Cut yourself some slack. This will always be one of the hardest things you’ve ever done, one of the biggest upheavals of your life. It doesn’t matter what led to it. It’s happened, and it’ll take a while to get used to.’
‘You’re saying it’s not a small thing,’ Imogen confirmed.
‘Exactly. Not a small thing. If it was me, I think—’ He was cut off by the jangle of a mobile, and Imogen knew it wasn’t hers. He took an iPhone out of his jacket pocket and answered the call. ‘Hello? Oh, Birdie.’ He listened, his dark eyes flicking to Imogen, and her lungs tightened. ‘Sure. I’m with her now, actually. I’ll tell her. Don’t worry at all. OK, bye.’
‘What?’ Imogen croaked out. ‘What is it?’
‘Your mum just called Birdie,’ he said gently. ‘I think she’s got some news for you.’
Imogen stared at him, her feet rooted to the spot. Finding out what her mother – who hadn’t spoken to Birdie in at least half a decade – had called her to say, was the very last thing she wanted to do, out of all the worldly options available to her.
Chapter Six
Imogen didn’t want to walk anymore. She wanted to go back to talking about huge swathes of mistletoe, be given a tour of the parkland by Felix, buy a desk’s worth of beautiful notebooks. She faltered, and Dexter slowed with her.
‘OK?’ he asked.
‘Not really.’ She looked out over the sea. It was still made up of a hundred different colours, even more now the sun was determined to make an appearance.
‘Obviously I don’t know any of the details,’ Dexter said, ‘but I do wonder if you’ll feel better if you get those first, tough conversations out of the way. If you talk to the people you need to.’
‘They’ll want explanations, and I don’t have the right ones.’
Dexter laughed. ‘Therightones? Surely you only have whatever your reasons are.’
‘They won’t be acceptable.’
She could feel Dexter’s gaze on the side of her face, butshe stared determinedly down at her walking boots and the muddy path. ‘Is that part of the problem?’ he asked eventually.
Now she did look at him. His dark eyes had more depth than the deepest part of the sea, and his tangle of curls and stubble should have made him scruffier, but somehow they made him seem more put-together. He was exactly who he wanted to be.
‘It’s part ofmyproblem,’ she said. ‘I don’t know whether I’m being unreasonable or they’re being too rigid, but my thoughts are still this …’ she waved her hands in front of her face, ‘… candyfloss haze. I know why I left, but it still feels stupid and reckless and like I’ve messed up my whole life. If I’m honest with Mum, she’ll tell me I’m being ridiculous, and Edmund will ignore that I had valid reasons for leaving, and get me to come back.’ She sighed. ‘Whatever happens, they won’t be forgiving like Birdie is.’
