Page 21 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

‘It’s my special nose medicine,’ Sutton explained. She thought about her stuffy head and how listless and low she felt when she was suffering from a sinus flareup. ‘It makes me feel like I can breathe better. Being able to breathe better makes me feel more energetic.’

Rosie wrinkled her nose. ‘What does energetic mean?’

Sutton ushered Rosie through the open bathroom door into the passage. ‘It means you feel like you can run and climb and do anything you set your mind to.’

‘I need some energetic,’ she told Sutton as they walked down the hallway leading to the stairs. ‘Having a boy twin is haustive.’

Haustive? Sutton frowned. She’d already ascertained Rosie had an incredible vocabulary and was exceptionally erudite. Felix was less talkative and tended to let Rosie forge ahead.

‘Give me another word for haustive, Rosie,’ Sutton asked.

‘Tired, Sutton. He makes me tired,’ she stated with all the drama of a hysterical Victorian aristocrat.

Right. Noted.

‘Sutton?’

Sutton turned and looked up. Gus stood at the end of the passage, outside his bedroom. He held carrier bags with the adventure company’s logo in one hand. With his two-day-old stubble and shower-damp hair, dressed in jeans and a navy crew-neck sweater, he looked scrumptious.No lusting after your boss, Sutton!

‘Can I speak to you for a minute?’ Gus asked her.

‘Sure.’

‘We’ll see you in the kitchen in five minutes, Rosie,’ Gus told his daughter.

‘I wanna come too,’ Rosie told him, following them up the short flight of steps to Sutton’s loft bedroom. Sutton looked at Gus. This was his fight, not hers.

‘I don’t have the energy…’ he muttered and followed Sutton and his daughter into her room. Sutton winced at her unmade bed and noticed her bright blue bra lying on the back of the chair in the corner. Luckily Rosie seemed more interested in what was in the three bags Gus dumped on the end of her bed.

Gus raised his eyes at her rumpled bedcovers and picked a pillow off the floor. Having been in the army, he probably made his bed the minute he got up, complete with hospital corners and with the linen so tight you could bounce a coin off it. She suspected Gus longed for a tidy house, and for everything to be in its place.

But, as a single dad with twins, and pets, he was fighting a losing battle. She admired his ability to pick his battles.

‘Ooh, pretty,’ Rosie squealed.

Sutton, standing as close to the door as she could, looked at the cherry-red jacket Rosie pulled out of the bag, her eyebrows lifting. She instantly recognised the brand; it was one of the more expensive items his shop stocked. And way beyond anything she could afford.

‘Is it for me, Daddy?’ Rosie demanded, laying the jacket against her cheek and batting her eyelashes. God, this kid.

‘It’s a bit big for you, sweetheart. No, this one is for Sutton.’ Gus plucked the jacket from her hands and held it in one hand. His expression fell somewhere between confused and irritated, as if he wasn’t sure why Sutton was there and what he should do with her. ‘You needed a new coat, and this is a sample our supplier sent us.’

Nuh-uh. Suppliers didn’t send £300 coats as samples. Sutton rocked on her heels, unsure how to react. She needed the coat, she wanted it – honestly, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted more – but if she couldn’t pay for it, then she couldn’t accept it.

‘Thanks, but I’m fine.’

‘No, what you are is freezing. It’s winter, and you need, at the minimum, a decent coat,’ Gus said, in his commanding-officer voice. He gestured to the bag. ‘There’s a black one if you prefer. I had to guess your size, but I think I’ve got it right. I also included thick socks, a waterproof pair of boots – you’ll be walking the kids and the dogs – a beanie and gloves.’

Oh, the thought of being properly warm made her weak. ‘I can’t—’

‘You can. You will,’ Gus told her, looking resolute. Sutton could easily see the squaddies in his unit quaking in their boots at the expression on his face. She was so tempted, but she was already living in his house, eating his food, and he was helping her – although he didn’t know it – out of a jam. She couldn’t accept his charity as well.

‘I so appreciate the gesture, but I can’t afford to pay you for the clothes, Gus.’

He raked his hand through his hair, obviously frustrated. ‘And I don’t want to see you with blue lips, Sutton.’

Rosie pulled the beanie onto her head, and it fell over her eyes. She let out a wail of distress and Gus snatched the beanie off her head. He hauled Rosie up into his arms and his little girl laid her head on his shoulder, her blue eyes watery. ‘I couldn’t breathe, Daddy.’

‘It was on your head for two seconds, Rosie-Roo, you could breathe,’ Gus told her, his hand almost spanning her small back. His eyes met Sutton’s. ‘She’s intensely claustrophobic and hates the dark.’

---