Page 21 of A Festive Surprise

Chapter Eight

Holly

A deep musk tingled in Holly’s nostrils as flames flickered from the candles on the worktop dining table. Her eyes locked on Farid while they ate. Words weren’t necessary. Their gazes communicated. A taut wire zipped between them, crackling and sparking.

Holly’s fork lingered close to her lips. She didn’t stop watching Farid as she ate. How perfect was this? If he wanted to stick around for dessert, he was more than welcome. She pushed her plate aside and steepled her fingers, leaning towards him. ‘So—’

A ringing interrupted her and she glanced at her phone.

‘Oh no.’ With a sigh, she lifted it. ‘Work. I should take it.’ Great. Just what she needed.

It sounded the death knell for their evening.

The following morning, she slammed her phone onto the worktop like she’d never been off it. Sleep had happened, but not long enough or sound enough. What should have been a fun evening getting to know Farid had flopped. She pinned her hair to her scalp, holding it off her forehead. No getting round the facts, she had to talk to Gavin.

‘He’s just a man.’ She filled the kettle. A man like any other. No big deal. They were grown-ups with business to discuss. The teeny-weeny problem of what happened six Christmases ago stood in her way like Jim Carey in his Grinch get-up, holding out giant fingers ready to trap her if she tried to run by. These hang-ups were ridiculous. Meeting Farid had proved that. His resilience was incredible. How would she feel if their situations were reversed? She gave herself a shake. Get a grip.

Perhaps if she called Alice that would help. Alice detested Gavin, blaming him for not understanding Holly at all, for having his own agenda and for being more obsessed with forwarding his career and social status than paying attention to the people around him. Some of it verged on the truth. But Alice had only heard what Holly had told her – not the truth. How could she confess? It was bad enough as it was.

‘Screw this.’ She slammed a mug onto the worktop. ‘So, I made a mistake.’ A big one. A public one – all Gavin’s family were witnesses. She screwed up her eyes. No. Go away. Mr and Mrs Sinclair with their shocked faces, hands pressed to their chests and wide-open mouths did not belong here.

She collected her breath. Right. What to do? Mr and Mrs Sinclair invading her head wasn’t the worst of it. The hunk next door was where her mind wanted to wander off to. Had she made a cock-up there too?

Being inundated with work messages during a candlelit dinner wouldn’t buy her any points. ‘Bugger.’

He’d seemed cool, claiming a need to shower and sleep as he had an early rise. That meant they were ok, right? Or had he been trying to escape? Had she come on too strong? Of course she had. Why do I have no bloody filter? Subtlety had been sorely lacking in her advances. His hot body really got her going. Her eyes had spent the meal making out with him.

Right, stop. Work. Must work. She lifted the phone and flipped it in her hand. Gavin. Gavin. Gavin. What to say to him?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Holly leapt and almost dropped the phone. ‘It’s worse than Piccadilly Circus around here.’ Postman maybe? She dragged open the door. Better. Farid with his lumberjack shirt pulled up to his chin, his lopsided grin promising mischief and so much more.

‘Well, hello, sailor.’ So much for dialling down. But whenever she clapped eyes on him, flirting became mandatory.

‘I have not been called that before, but, hello.’

‘So, how can I help you this cold and frosty morning?’

‘You are already helping me.’

She quirked an eyebrow. ‘You mean this learning about Christmas thing?’

‘No, just seeing your face makes me smile.’

She smirked and her insides cheered. Yay! She hadn’t scared him off. She’d have their lonely hearts snuggled up in a rug together in no time. ‘Well, much as I’d love to stand here and smile for you, I unfortunately have work to do.’ She pulled down her lips but he continued to grin. Oh so appealing.

‘Sorry, I left so early yesterday.’ He rearranged his features until he looked almost serious. ‘But as we are now on Friday and your weekend is coming up and this is traditionally our holy day, we could celebrate.’

‘Are you religious?’

‘For myself, not really. I’m human and I see many things that I doubt in all religions, but my family very much so, especially my parents. I respect their faith.’

‘Same with me.’ Holly leaned on the doorframe. ‘My parents are church obsessed Christians.’ The Sinclairs had been even worse. Something that made Alice badmouth them even more. They owned a whisky business for god’s sake; how did that tally with religion? ‘It’s more churchianity than Christianity these days. None of it’s for me. But I digress. What are you suggesting for Friday night?’

‘Tonight, you come to my house for dinner. I cook, you sit, or drink, or both. And then we have more lessons. You tell me about Christmas, I teach you about home.’

She poked her tongue into her mouth. Do. Not. Laugh. He was cute. If he’d said, come round and we’ll spend the rest of the night getting it on, she’d have made a beeline for his door. But his diversions were sweet.

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