Page 8 of A Festive Surprise

‘No, I’ll walk. It’s not far. Are you ok here by yourself?’

‘Perfectly. I can’t wait to settle in.’ The words flowed and she pulled out a smile but all she wanted to do was get out and run.

Georgia hovered on the doorstep. ‘Don’t be a stranger. We’re happy to have you any time. If you’re lonely, pop around. Or pop next door.’ She winked.

‘Yeah, thanks. I’m trying to avoid that, remember?’ Holly waved to the giggling Georgia and watched until she was a dot on the path. Now, slowly turn around and face the house.

She collected her case first. Not a particularly large one. She had a neat set of outfits she chopped and changed. When they needed replacing, she replaced the whole set so everything mixed and matched. She fetched her laptop bag next, two garment carriers and a bag of food that wouldn’t last more than two days. Even that small amount of luggage took up too much space in the tiny hall. She shuffled along, pushed open a door she assumed was the bedroom, and froze. ‘No bloody way.’

A winter wonderland shone before her. Some princess somewhere would love this. Someone in her own family even – her mother, her sister, her niece. ‘But not me!’ She shook her head. What a nightmare. How could she sleep in this? One night. She could do that. One night, then she was out of here. Where would she go this time? Who knew, but she couldn’t bear it.

No point in unpacking. Even the food could stay in the bag.

Work. Do some work. It was the only thing that could make her feel better. Hauling out her laptop, she set it up in the abomination of a living room. Her arms relaxed as she opened the familiar programs and set her fingers typing. Better. Her breathing calmed as she focused on the lines on the screen. Time passed in a blur of codes, checkboxes and elements. The glitter fest surrounding her was just white noise in the background.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Holly jolted, almost dropping the laptop. ‘What the hell?’

People came knocking? Out here? She placed the laptop on the coffee table and hurried to the door. It was solid wood with only the smallest diamond-shaped window, all mottled glass. So, who was it? She pulled it open and it dragged over the cream carpet. Her eyes connected with a pair of deep blue irises, and a pyrotechnic explosion ripped through her. What was he doing here? Had Georgia sent him to stir things up? This guy had crushing appeal. Maybe he felt the same. Was that why he was here? Her new neighbour popping around for the old cup of sugar. The Stone Age part of her brain had already cooked up a plan to grab his hand and drag him straight to the bedroom. Restraint. Stay calm. She tugged her lips into a fixed smile. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi,’ he said.

‘What can I do for you?’ She adjusted the neckline of her sweater.

‘Nothing.’ He pulled a little shrug. His accent was cute. A deep voice tinged with uncertainty. ‘I feel bad.’

Holly raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, we can’t have that. What’s making you feel bad?’ Her mind whirled on a carousel of ideas on how best to cheer him up – most of them wholly inappropriate, some of them completely X-rated. But would any of them work? A hint of desperation lingered in his expression. Here stood a soul almost as lonely as hers, crying out for love. She could sense it.

‘The elf thing.’

She laughed. The sound surprised her. She was laughing about something Christmassy! ‘No worries. Just forget it.’

His lips curled up. Oh crap. Her knees might give way soon. His mouth. His smile. His eyes. His hair. Oh, Jesus, Mary and the bloody donkey too. Everything about him was far too damned sexy and alluring to be allowed. Since when did men bother her like this? Even Gavin hadn’t had this effect.

‘I like to give you this. A gift for you. For making yourself at home.’ He held out a box.

She took it and lifted the top. ‘Er, what?’ He had to be kidding her. Mince pies. Bloody mince pies. Perfectly formed down to the neatly cut holly shapes on top. Was this his idea of a joke?

‘You don’t like them?’

‘What?’ Shit. ‘Oh, er, I’m sure they’re great. But, I’m sorry. This probably sounds rude, but I don’t like Christmas. All the hype irritates me. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I just, arghh.’ She thrust her hand into her hair. ‘You know what? This was kind. Thank you. But it’s wasted on me because I’m not staying. I’m leaving tomorrow. In fact, please tell Georgia for me. I don’t want to have a long, drawn-out conversation about it. I just want to leave. I can’t stay here.’

Mind made up. Now, shut the door. Her fingers gripped the frame, knuckles white, ready to push it closed and end this silly interlude in her life.

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