Page 16 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

So, are you staying or going?’ he asked.

‘Staying.’

‘Good.’ Gus looked at his watch and pushed his hand through his thick hair. I have a meeting at the tour company in fifteen minutes, so I can’t hang around here any longer, but we have more to discuss. Can you meet me at Langston Tours – it’s right next to the Christmas shop – at eleven?’

Right now, she’d meet him on the moon if that was what he required. Sutton agreed to the time.

Gus nodded and walked out of the room. Sutton followed him into the hall and watched as he hoisted her heavy backpack over one shoulder like it was a handbag. He held her boots in his other hand. ‘I’ll carry these up to your room. Do you want to see where you’ll be sleeping?’

Sutton took her first full breath in days, possibly weeks. She was in a warm house, she’d eat tonight, and she didn’t have to worry about where she would sleep, and how to make it through another cold day.

For the next three lovely weeks, she could relax a little, sleep better, and breathe. Climbing the stairs behind Gus – her eyes travelling down his back to his rather spectacular bum and down his long, muscular legs and up again – she felt grateful to life, and him, for giving her a reprieve.

She also felt utterly wiped out. And, dammit, weepy with relief.

ChapterFive

Sutton, glad to be out of the driving wind, pushed open the door to Langston’s Adventure Company and brushed the light dusting of sleet off her hair. She’d had her beanie and gloves in the pub last night, but she’d lost them somewhere on the road later. As a result, she couldn’t feel her fingers and if she smiled or frowned, her face might crack.

She was African-born and bred, and when the temperature dropped below fifteen degrees Celsius, she went into hypothermic shock. For her, the mile-long walk from Gus’s cottage to the village was the equivalent of Scott’s trek to the Antarctic.

Sutton stamped her feet and looked around. To the left were glass walls, and a small but attractive shop selling outdoor clothes, shoes and equipment. Huge photographs of people doing impossible things – hanging by their fingertips on a rockface, no ropes in sight, canoeing off what looked to be a too-high waterfall, standing on the top of a too-high cliff about to dive – adorned the high walls.

A fully loaded Christmas tree sat next to the receptionist’s desk, behind which was another glass wall. Sutton looked into a massive warehouse that had been converted into an indoor climbing centre, with three climbing walls, each more than twenty feet high. A slim woman was halfway to the open ceiling, moving up one wall with ease. A man stood on a mat, critically watching her progress. At the other end of the hall was an unmanned coffee and juice bar. A huge screen to her right advertised the adventures Langston Tours offered.

Impressive.

Then again, Gus Langston was an impressive guy. She’d run through their conversation a dozen times more since he left her the second time, unable to believe her luck. While she unpacked her clothes, she unpacked his actions and mulled over his words. He’d been so reasonable, direct but calm. Rational, sensible and kind. So kind. Utterly, absolutely in control of himself, intrinsically self-confident. He was the mostly manly man – not only in looks – she’d encountered for a long time, possibly ever. An alpha guy, but not an alpha-asshole. Someone who didn’t need validation from anyone, wholly confident in his decisions and the road he was walking.

Assured and decisive, but not pompous or pig headed. Shelikedhim.

Dammit.

Lust she could ignore, desire was a biological need. But like? Well, that was a scary and dangerous emotion.Three weeks, Sutton. You won’t do anything stupid like fall for him in three weeks, will you?Note to self: youcan’t. You won’t.

Besides, you’re probs just confusing gratitude with like. He’s given you a place to stay, a way to regroup, and saved you from what would’ve been an exceptionally miserable and stressful three weeks. You’re just feeling thankful, and relieved. And yes, maybe that old biological need of looking for a protector is playing a part. Despite women’s rights, it’s still hard-wired into our DNA.

See, there’s a logical explanation for everything. You just had to look for it.

‘Can I help you?’

Sutton smiled at the young guy behind the counter and jammed her ice-block hands into the pockets of her puffer jacket. Her jacket wasn’t warm enough for the Lake District in winter, but she’d have to wait to buy a new one – or a new-to-her one – when she found a charity shop and when Gus paid her.Ifhe paid her.

No, he would, he’d keep his word. After being betrayed by Layla, people keeping their word, and her keeping hers, had taken on new meaning and was now of paramount importance to her. And that was why she was here at eleven o’clock, to talk about the twins and what he expected.

‘Oh, I’m here to see Gus Langston.’

He nodded. His name tag said he was Anton, a trainee. ‘He told me to send you up when you arrived. Can I take your coat?’

Hell no. Sutton shook her head. ‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘A cup of coffee then?’

Sutton’s smile bloomed. ‘I would kill for a coffee.’

Anton smiled, blushed and half stumbled out from behind his desk. Sweet boy, getting all flustered from a smile. Anton pointed to a door beneath the huge TV screen.

‘Our offices are upstairs. Gus is at the end of the corridor. You’re lucky to find him in, he’s normally next door at the Christmas shop. Just go on up. I’ll bring you some coffee in a minute.’ He paused and shook his head. ‘You really do need a better coat.’

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