Page 24 of Confessions of a Christmasholic

They had to operate on a level, sensible, practical playing field. They each had their roles to play: he needed help with his kids, and she needed a free place to live until she got a job, made a plan or, if miracles did happen, Layla did the right thing and repaid her what she was owed.

Kissing, touching,sex, wasn’t on the table. But, she couldn’t help wishing it was. It had been so long, and Gus was the perfect candidate to break her dry streak.

It was time to focus on something other than how he’d feel under her hands – amazingly wonderful, masculine, superfine – and how much she wanted him under her, over him, her body squashed between his and the nearest wall.

Sheez.Sutton turned her head to check the paint on the wall hadn’t started blistering.

Get it together, Sutton.‘So, I’ll walk down to Eli and Will’s at about eleven. That’ll give me time to walk, and dry, the animals. And do some laundry.’

‘Sounds good,’ he nodded. ‘But feel free to use the car.’

‘I will, but I like to walk when I can. I don’t run –’ or exercise, but he didn’t need to know that ‘– so walking is how I burn calories.’

The distinctive sound of a phone hitting the floor made their heads spin.

‘Dad!’ Felix yelled from the kitchen. ‘I put your phone on airplane mode, but it doesn’t fly!’

Gus groaned. ‘On days like these, I understand, on a visceral level, why some animals eat their young.’

ChapterSix

In Will and Eli’s small and very warm hallway, Sutton shrugged out of her new jacket – and shoved the black gloves and the beanie into the inside pocket and zipped it up so she didn’t lose them too.

Sutton looked around, her eyebrows lifting at the small, cluttered space. She was glad she’d dropped the animals off at Gus’s cottage before coming here. She could easily imagine Pig’s tail whistling across a table and sending figurines and glass sculptures crashing to the wooden floor. Unlike Pig, she didn’t have a wildly uncontrollable tail, but she still kept her elbows tucked in.

Will ushered her into their old-fashioned kitchen where Eli stood by the stove, a leather apron over his sweater and jeans. The smell of lemon and chicken stock wafted over to where she stood, and her stomach reacted with a loud grumble. She was beyond starving.

‘Darling!’ Eli cried, sending her a lovely, I’m-so-happy-to-see-you smile. ‘Wine? Coffee?’

Will pulled out a chair from under the battered wooden table and Sutton sat down, smiling her thanks. ‘Coffee, please.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘It’s bitter out there.’

‘Give me another day and I’ll start bitching about how sick I am of the cold.’ Eli stirred the contents of his saucepan. Was he making risotto? She loved risotto and hoped he’d offer her lunch.

‘So how’s nannying going, Sutton?’ Will asked, turning to the important task of making her coffee.

‘I think Rosie might be the end of me. She’s frighteningly bright.’

‘Her mum was like that,’ Eli told her. Turning off the gas, he joined her at the table while Will opened a packet of biscuits.

‘Did you know her?’ Sutton asked, curious, helping herself to a biscuit and wishing it was a hunk of the newly baked bread sitting on the counter.

‘Mmm. Kate was the girl next door, and I was the gay next door.’ He looked up and smiled at Will, who carried her cup of coffee to the table. ‘I met Will just a few weeks before she died, and I was a mess. He got me through that awful time.’

The love between them was tangible, a living, breathing thing and it wrapped around Sutton, warming her up from the inside out. Sutton sipped her coffee, her eyes widening when she realised Will had dumped whiskey in it.

‘I’m working, Will!’

He winked at her. ‘I won’t tell Gus if you don’t.’

‘Actually, I’m not looking after the kids until much later this afternoon,’ Sutton explained. She’d never mix alcohol with child minding, so she’d be okay. ‘They will be with Molly…Moira?’

‘Moira.’ Eli placed his hand on his chest. ‘The delightful Lady M.’

Sutton looked at Will, not sure if he was being sarcastic or not. ‘He worships the ground she walks on,’ Will explained.

‘Moira was the first adult I told I was gay. When my parents threatened to disown me, she went and spoke to them, and we found a way forward,’ Eli explained. ‘She’s the reason I managed to have a relationship with them. Moira’s, basically, my second mum. And God, she adores her grandkids.’

Sutton gestured to the kitchen. ‘Was this your parents’ house?’ With its old Aga and low ceilings, it had a fairy tale feel, an old-fashioned air.

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