Page 52 of Only for Christmas

‘Sorry, but I need to clean the wound.’ He wiped dirt away from her forehead. ‘You were saying?’

She closed her eyes. ‘I didn’t want another relapse. I’d taken him back so many times, I was sick of it. He could be very persuasive and charming, and it was hard to resist him. Jilting me was the final straw. I knew it was over and I needed to move on, but I was worried I might give in once he was standing in front of me.’

He tore open an alcoholic wipe. ‘But you didn’t.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘This is going to sting.’ He wiped the remaining blood away, ensuring the wound was clean. He could feel her tense beneath his fingers. ‘You can relax now; the worst is over.’

She let out a breath. ‘You didn’t react when I said I’d been jilted, so I’m guessing someone already told you… Was it Harper?’

‘Carla. I told her I liked you and she warned me off trying to get too close.’

She rolled her head to look at him. ‘It didn’t stop you.’

‘No, it didn’t.’ He grinned and placed a gauze over the cut. ‘I like a challenge.’

‘I’m not a challenge; I’m insurmountable, like Everest. Or visiting Venus. I am the Invisible Triangle of women.’

‘You really did hit your head,’ he said, securing the gauze with tape. ‘By the way, thanks for talking to Harper yesterday. Shows you how clueless I am when it comes to knowing what’s best for her. Whatever you said really helped; she was all about focusing on self-care today.’

Sarah’s eyes grew wide. ‘She didn’t mention… gadgets, did she?’

‘Gadgets?’ He grew curious. ‘What kind of gadgets? Why are you blushing?’

‘Nothing. Forget I said anything.’ She buried her face in the pillow and made an odd squeaking noise.

Intrigued, he fetched a throw from the wardrobe and covered her with it. He’d quiz Harper tomorrow; she could never keep a secret. ‘Warming up yet?’

Her face lifted from the pillow. ‘Yes, thank you… And you know, talking to Harper helped me too.’

He took the pillow from her and eased it under her head. ‘How come?’

‘Giving her advice about moving forwards with her life reminded me I need to do the same.’ She fixed him with those big brown eyes. ‘I’m stuck.’

It took all his willpower not to kiss her. She was lying on his bed, looking up at him all doe-eyed and cute in her pyjamas, and his heart sped up a little. In other circumstances this would be a very romantic moment. ‘I’m no expert, but I’m guessing admitting that has to be a positive step.’

‘It’s just knowing where to start.’

‘How about starting with Christmas.’ He kicked off his trainers and climbed onto the bed next to her.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You don’t celebrate Christmas. I get it. It reminds you of a shitty time in your life. So, make some new memories. Let Christmas back into your life.’ He arranged a couple of pillows behind him so he was propped up against the headboard. ‘Wouldn’t that be the ultimate payback for all the hurt your ex caused? To reclaim something he took from you?’

She seemed to consider this. ‘Maybe.’

He reached for his laptop on the bedside table. ‘What about a Christmas movie?’ he said, loading Netflix. ‘Here we go… White Christmas.’ He angled his laptop so she could see.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Starting with the big guns, huh?’

‘I hate to break it to you, but you’re not going anywhere for several hours. I need to be certain that concussion doesn’t get any worse. So we either lie here counting sheep, or we kill time watching a film. Which is it to be?’

‘If it means you stop lecturing me, then the film it is.’

‘Good choice. Snuggle up.’ He lifted his arm so she could move closer. ‘And I think you’ll like it. Rosemary Clooney’s character is all tetchy and suspicious. She thinks Bing Crosby is a cad, a man who’s untrustworthy and running a scam, when really he’s a genuine chap who’s misunderstood and secretly has the hots for her.’ He looked down at her, her face so close to his he could smell her hair. ‘You know, she kinda reminds me of someone.’

‘You’re no Bing Crosby.’

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