Page 68 of Only for Christmas

She looked into his kind blue eyes. ‘I think you’ll find it’s MI5 in the UK.’

‘Oh, right. Whoever they are, she missed her calling. Hold that.’ He pressed a paper towel against her finger. ‘Where will I find Band-Aids?’

‘On top of the fridge.’ She watched him fetch the first aid box. ‘Who knew our neighbour’s nosiness would come in so handy. How’s she doing, by the way?’

‘Better. Her health’s improving and she’s allowed me to refer her for support.’

‘Crikey, how have you managed that?’

‘Charm, perseverance and blackmail.’ When he smiled at her, her insides flipped. He was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating off him and see all the contours of his face in high definition. It was like being tipsy all over again.

‘You’re an annoyingly nice bloke, do you know that?’

He grinned. ‘What have I been trying to tell you? I am a nice guy. No games. No agenda. Just a good ole country boy from Duluth, Minnesota.’ He pretended to tip his hat. ‘At your service, ma’am.’

‘Idiot. Give me that plaster. I’m not incapable of taking care of myself.’

‘I know, but it makes me feel useful. You know, all macho and manly.’ He flexed his biceps. ‘Me man, you woman.’

She couldn’t help laughing.

Grinning, he emptied all the ingredients into the blender and whizzed them into a pulp. While he poured the sauce into a pan and lit the hob, Sarah went into the lounge to light the festive candles. By the time she’d lit them, switched on the lantern and closed the curtains, Lucas had put the chicken on to marinate and had joined her in the lounge with a bottle of wine.

‘Wow, look at you,’ he said, picking up discarded cushions from the floor. ‘There’s no holding you back now. It’s full-on Christmas festivities.’ He opened the wine. ‘Visiting Santa Claus. Feeding reindeer. Cuddling up with my nephews to watch a Christmas movie. You’d best be careful: your aversion might be lifting.’

‘It might be.’ She accepted a glass of wine. ‘I’m going to my brother’s house on Christmas Day to celebrate with my family. I haven’t done that since before… well, you know… so it’s well overdue.’ She took a sip of wine.

Lucas stopped pouring. ‘For real?’

She slumped onto the sofa. ‘Spending the day with your nephews yesterday reminded me I’m missing out by not seeing my family at Christmas. Worse than that, I’m punishing them for something that isn’t their fault, and that’s not fair. They deserve better.’

‘Well, would you believe it.’ Lucas sat beside her. ‘I’m proud of you.’

Embarrassed, she stared at her wine. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘Are you kidding me? It’s a huge deal.’ He nudged her foot. ‘I bet they’re excited to see you?’

‘Ridiculously so. Mum cried when I told her.’

‘I’m not surprised. I’m crying too.’

‘No, you’re not,’ she said, laughing.

He leant closer. ‘Look… tears. Genuine tears.’

Good grief, he did have tears in his eyes. ‘You daft thing. You’re worse than Fred. He’s a soppy thing too.’ She took a slug of wine, trying to dampen the effect of seeing him wiping his eyes. She cleared her throat. ‘Are you spending Christmas with Harper and the boys?’

‘That’s the plan. I went shopping for gifts today.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I may have spoilt them.’

‘I can imagine,’ she said, wondering what his hair felt like. Was it as soft as his hands? Did he use conditioner? He probably didn’t have to; he was naturally blessed. Of course he was. Infuriating man. ‘You’re a very loving uncle.’

‘It’s a practice run for when I have kids of my own.’ His smile was big and open and she nearly spluttered on her wine.

‘You want kids?’

‘Sure.’ He shrugged. ‘Kids. Wife. A dog. Maybe even a goldfish. I want it all.’

Fred jumped onto his lap and was rewarded with a tummy rub.

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