Page 113 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
I was going to let him distract me.
I was going to humour him.
I wanted to. Iwantedto let him drag me into another world where I didn’t have to think about Hazel and her wedding and all the stress that was weighing me down.
Just for now, I wanted to be selfish and think about myself.
Not her last-minute request to change the fucking wedding favours and adjust the whole seating plan because our pseudo-cultist aunt had a bug up her arse about not being at one of the front tables.
If you asked me, the damn woman was lucky she hadn’t had her invitation rescinded. If it were my wedding, I’d have told her to fuck off a long time ago.
“Oi. Pay attention.” Thomas poked me in the side of the head. “What do you think about this cool fire engine?”
I blinked at the box he was pointing at. “I cannot believe I just heard you say that.”
He laughed and let go of my hand to reach up for it. My hand felt empty, and I folded my arms, tucking it tightly against my side as if the pressure would reduce that effect.
These unneeded feelings of mine were getting stronger by the day.
No.
By the minute.
“AStar Warsship is probably taking the piss a bit, don’t you think?”
I stared at him. “You mean that eight-hundred-piece, ninety-quid spaceship you’re eying up? For a six-year-old? It’s a bit excessive, yes.”
He tilted his head to the side. “Do you have a cousin you could justify buying it for?”
“None that I like enough to spend that much on a LEGO set.”
“You could pretend to.”
“Why? So nobody knows that the esteemed and noble Duke of Castleton wants to play with Star Wars LEGO?”
Thomas met my eyes. “That wouldn’t do my reputation any good. It’s already taken a beating after I’ve spent the last two weeks publicly bickering with you.”
“You can’t really say that after you’ve dragged me halfway down the high street while holding my hand.”
“Hm. You’re right. I’ll just have to tell everyone it’s a lover’s quarrel.”
“If you do that, you won’t have a tongue to tell anyone anything,” I grumbled, nudging past him and grabbing the set he was lusting after. “Let’s say I have a cousin who needs a Christmas present, shall we? Failing that, it’s weighty enough that it’d do some damage if I hit my sister over the head with it.”
Thomas sighed and handed me the fire engine. “Let me grab a basket while you get over your murderous intent.”
“How optimistic of you to think such a thing is possible.”
“Stranger things have happened.” He grinned and swept past me, disappearing around the end of the aisle and towards the front of the shop.
Was I really about to buy this man a bloody LEGO set? For almost a hundred pounds?
Yes.
Yes, I was.
Surely, this was further proof that I, Sylvie Harding, was losing my flipping mind.
Whatever. He had helped me out an awful lot, and if a stupid LEGO set would make him happy, then I supposed I could buy it for him for Christmas.
