Page 40 of No Strings Christmas

‘It must have been hard for you to see that.’

‘I didn’t get it at the time. But yes, Jessica, when I was old enough to understand, it was hard. It taught me a lot about my dad, and about relationships.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He shakes his head, brushing away the apology.

His tone brightens, as though sweeping aside our conversation. ‘The saving grace is that my stepmum’s really great. She’s a beautiful person. Kind, sweet, and she loved us like her own kids. So in the end, we got two mums, and a father who was, as it turns out, a total bastard.’

My heart throbs painfully. ‘I’m glad she was good to you, Zach.’

I want to be there with him more than anything—which terrifies me. This deep and meaningful conversation isn’t what I signed on for. He’s not meant to be someone who makes my heart hurt with his stories. He’s not meant to be someone who brings tears of sympathy to my eyes.

‘Do you see her for Christmas?’

‘Yeah. She’s actually away this year, visiting friends in Switzerland, but usually we have lunch with her.’

‘So you do celebrate it?’

He pulls a face. ‘I have lunch with her like I would on any other day she invites me for lunch.’

His cynicism makes me smile and I’m desperate to lighten the mood, to move back to safer, more familiar ground. ‘I don’t know. I think I could bring you around to the Christmas side.’

‘Oh, really?’ He moves closer to the camera. ‘What’s so good about it?’

I sigh, trying to work out where to start. ‘So many things. The food, the decorations, the music, I love it all. Fruit mince pies, shortbread, eggnog, pudding.’

‘Ah, see, that’s not really the kind of Christmas I grew up with. We’re more prawns and mangoes at the beach people.’

‘But that’s still Christmas food—your Christmas food.’ I pause. ‘Though it’s not quite the same, you’re right. Why don’t we have Christmas dinner together?’ I stare at him, shocked at the words that flew out of my mouth. ‘Obviously I don’t mean actual Christmas dinner. I meant, the food. I mean another night, not Christmas, and just some of the yummiest Christmas things.’ I glare at him, annoyed I sound so stupid, embarrassed at what I’ve just offered.

‘I’d like that.’ His voice is low, dipping through me, reassuring me, warming me, fixing me.

I ease my glare.

‘Okay.’

‘But not tomorrow. Tomorrow I have plans for you.’

‘Oh?’

‘Though I guess they’re a little festive.’

‘In what way?’

‘The Christmas blindfold?’

I stare at him blankly for a second and then laugh. ‘It’s a tie, Zach...’

‘Potato, potahto.’

CHAPTER NINE

‘YOU’RE WEARING CLOTHES,’ I complain as I walk into Zach’s penthouse the following evening, the sun dipping low in the sky.

His grin is slow and sexy as he prowls towards me, his stride long. ‘Am I not meant to be?’

I reach into my bag and pull out the silk tie, lifting it around his neck when he’s close enough to reach. ‘On the contrary,’ I murmur, folding it into a knot at his neck, concentrating on the job so I almost don’t feel the burn of his gaze on me as I work. I pat it in place when I’m done then pull back a little to observe my handiwork. It’s absolutely ludicrous—so cheesy and festive—and yet, of course, on Zac it totally works.

---