Something Beginning With Mistletoe (Something Borrowed Book 3) Read online

  ‘Not out of charity.’ But Brad looked interested and that was a step in the right direction.

  ‘I have to give a job to someone. If not you, then someone else—someone I don’t know and can’t trust at first. You’ve got the kids to think about, and this could be flexible.’ God help him for using them as an excuse, but it was true.

  And so he was a rescuer? His immediate reaction had been to deny Faith’s label. But yes, he was. At least with Stacey and Brad he’d tried to be. But he’d learnt he couldn’t always stop them from falling. He just had to be there to help when they needed it. Sometimes they asked. Sometimes they just didn’t want it.

  With Faith? He’d been drawn to her sarcasm and sense of humour long before he’d known anything about her life. He didn’t want to rescue her. He wanted to make love with her. To laugh with her.

  And now he had some making up to do.

  Chapter 12

  ‘So, I was an idiot. And rude, too.’

  ‘Yes, you were, but you’re in good company.’ Faith nodded towards Patty and Old Billy sitting at the bar, still nursing pints they'd bought an hour ago, and watching the trying-to-be-casual Faith control her juddering pulse. Every single time she set eyes on Blake Delacourte her body went through a gamut of reactions, all of which made her hot. Damned hot.

  At her regulars’ frowns, she laughed. ‘Only joking. You’re in terrible company.’

  Yes, she’d been frazzled by his actions this morning, but she knew busy. She also knew complicated and confused. They were rapidly becoming her new BFFs.

  But when Blake smiled the confusion seemed to dissipate. Things seemed so easy when she was with him. It was being alone with her thoughts that made doubt cloud her vision.

  ‘It never even occurred to me what day it was.’

  She laughed. ‘Because you were so distracted by my devastatingly amazing repartee.’

  ‘Among other things, yes. So I’m here to make up.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly a fight. You were just grumpy.’ If he’d been blindsided by their chemistry as much as she had, she couldn’t blame him for struggling with the collateral damage.

  ‘Let’s make up anyway.’ He leaned across the bar and kissed her. Right there, in front of the over seventy-five live audience. And instead of pushing him away she let him. Which was a surprise even to her. ‘I’m sorry, Faith. Are we okay?’

  Very. She stroked his jaw, feeling as jittery and excited as a teenager with her first crush. ‘Apology accepted.’

  He looked at his watch. ‘So…isn’t it closing time about now?’

  ‘Oh? You have plans?’ Because she did. Once upon a time he’d told her not to think, so she wasn’t going to. She was going to do. Do a lot with him tonight.

  Clearly, he had the same idea. The back of his fingers stroked down her cheek and his lowered voice was cracked and raw. ‘I most certainly do. I can’t keep away from you. All through the nativity play I couldn’t think of anything else but you. Upstairs. Naked.’

  ‘Oh, I forgot that was tonight.’ The old memories of the school hall rankled on the periphery of her brain, but she fought them back. She was getting better at doing that. It had been a long time ago and she wasn’t that little girl any more. ‘How did it go?’

  ‘They were great. Daisy remembered all her lines and Freddie sat very still. On his hands. The whole time.’ Blake’s eyes dipped down.

  She sensed something was wrong. ‘But?’

  ‘Their mother turned up late and missed the first half, then made some excuse and left straight afterwards. Daisy was devastated, but tried really hard not to show it.’

  ‘She wouldn’t have wanted to miss it, surely? She must have been held up.’ The same kind of excuses Faith had used about her own mother. Instead of being hurt she felt the hot sting of anger. But she chose not to say anything more. Blurting out exactly what she thought wouldn’t help the situation.

  Blake shrugged. ‘I don’t know, something like that. The post-performance ice cream eased things a bit, but Daze was quiet all evening.’

  Faith’s stomach tightened. She knew too well how that felt. ‘Poor kid.’

  ‘Anyway, to make up for it I promised to make you come for Christmas lunch. Seems Daisy’s as smitten as I am. I know we talked about it before, but you didn’t give me an answer…?’ He looked so hopeful it made her chest hurt.

  She ran hot palms over the cool wooden bar. ‘I don’t…I haven’t decided what I’m going to do yet.’

  ‘Well, the invitation stands.’ And he left it there, not pushing her for a decision. Seemed he understood her reluctance and ambivalence. The truth was, she didn’t know if she could bear being surrounded by both excited celebrations and her own painful memories. The two clashed badly.

  But she couldn’t get the idea of that little girl’s broken heart out of her head, and if she could do one thing to help her through the painful separation she would. She could do an hour. Maybe two. That was all that was needed. ‘Okay, yes. I’ll come over.’

  ‘Good. Thank you. I know she’ll be thrilled. And…I guess I’ll tolerate your presence.’ His smile was warm and teasing and part of her wanted to bask in the rays of that forever.

  ‘That’s very good of you, for your niece’s sake, obviously.’

  Sometime during the conversation he’d lifted the hatch and slid behind the bar. Now she felt his hands weave round her waist and hug her close. She rested her head against his chest. Being wrapped close to him felt so right. So perfect.

  His head nuzzled against hers. ‘Oh, and something else…Brad’s selling the distillery and coming to work for me.’

  She whirled round to face him. ‘Wow. This is news.’

  He nodded. Pride shone from his eyes, and love too. They’d come a long way, these men, and she was glad that being a family was important to them. Sticking around and sticking up for each other; that was what it meant.

  Her throat was raw as he told her, ‘Apparently, he’s struggling with the kids and work, and he’s sliding further into debt. I thought a lot about what you said. I kept my mouth shut and tried to be judgement free. I asked him what he wanted, then the idea just sort of crystallised. He’s going to project manage for me.’

  He’d listened to her? That meant such a lot. ‘You’re not going to kill each other?’

  ‘I hope not.’ His mouth was so close to her neck, her whole body was straining for the press of his lips on her skin. ‘And it means I’ll have more free time.’

  She curled into his heat, wishing they were alone so she could do what she wanted to do right now. ‘What will you fill that with?’

  ‘Oh, I have plans.’ He laughed, then turned to her salubrious clientele. ‘Don’t you two have homes to go to?’

  Patty wiped his mouth on the back of hand. ‘Aww. No. This is better than watching Love Island.’

  Trying to stem the heat swirling through her, Faith grabbed their empty pint glasses. She couldn’t wait much longer to drag him up to her flat. ‘Well, pretend you’re on a commercial break. You need stand up and stretch your legs, all the way home. It’s closing time, boys. Scoot.’

  Because, she had plans, too.

  ***

  Christmas Day came around far too soon, time blurred by long nights without sleep and lots and lots of Blake. They’d fallen into a routine where every single night he crept over from his apartment and snuggled into her bed. He had a key to her pub. His toothbrush was there.

  He slept there and then sauntered across the road back home to work and his family.

  Apart from last night, when he’d promised to be with the kids until they went to bed and then make sure he was available in the early hours in case they woke up too soon.

  Which had left Faith feeling as if something was missing as she’d lain awake thinking about him, pressing his pillow to her face to breathe in his smell. She’d thought one night apart would give her space for her thoughts. But it had just made the Blake-shaped space inside her feel
empty.

  What they had was scary and wonderful and she still kept waiting for the end to come. So far it hadn’t. So far he’d been nothing but amazing.

  So, here she was, standing ankle-deep in snow, armed to the gills with gifts for the kids, summoning every bit of strength she had for the noise, glitter, Christmas songs, baubles and tinsel. The full monty of Christmas that she hadn’t had for a long time. Sure, Gramps had made such a fuss of her, and the regulars too, but there’d always been that longing for her mother. And now, she had neither of them.

  Two years tomorrow. Sadness filled her and she wished she’d never agreed to this.

  No. She wouldn’t do it. She’d go home and have a toast to Gramps. Watch crappy TV and—

  The door flew open and out ran two very excited children.

  ‘Faith! You’re here! We were just coming over to get you.’ Daisy wrapped her skinny arms around Faith’s waist and hugged her tight. Freddie followed, dressed in a new-looking Star Wars outfit and brandishing a light sabre.

  ‘Schuuummm. Schuuummm. Look what I got! Father Christmas came and brought us loads of things.’

  ‘Wow.’ She drew breath. This was it. Christmas with the neighbours. She didn’t have to dig too deep to find a smile; the kids’ excitement was infectious. ‘Lucky you.’

  Blake appeared at the front door, wooden spoon in one hand and a beer in the other. ‘Sorry, too much chocolate already this morning. Come on, Daze, Freddie…give Faith some space.’

  ‘Blake Delacourte, is that…you’re wearing a reindeer apron?’ She laughed. God, he was so cute and hot as hell. A winning combination.

  He bit his lip. ‘They made me. Or else I don’t get any Christmas pudding.’

  As she kissed him Happy Christmas she whispered, ‘You, me, that apron and nothing else, later.’

  ‘Promises, promises.’ He tapped her bottom with the spoon as he followed her upstairs to his flat.

  She braced herself as they opened door to the lounge. The glitter seemed to have multiplied but there was also a carpet of torn wrapping paper, plastic boxes and toys. So many toys.

  It took her breath away, assailed every sense, but she coped. Just. No, more than that…every time she felt just a little overwhelmed she thought of the rock music or cycling through the park or just of Blake and she felt ready to face anything.

  The next two hours were filled with noise and music and laughter and no time at all alone with Blake, so she had to curb her aching desire to be skin-on-skin with him and chat to his family instead. They were adorable. It was so special to see children enjoying the festivities. Her mouth hurt from smiling and laughing.

  And the need to kiss Blake.

  At lunchtime they sat around the huge dining table, wearing hats from crackers. Daisy, to her left, nudged her. ‘Did you see the video of our show?’

  ‘I certainly did and you were both amazing. You remembered all your lines. Well done.’

  Freddie’s chest expanded and he stuck up his still bandaged hand. ‘And I did too.’

  ‘Yes, you were great. You remembered every word of the songs. And you sat so still you were like a statue.’ Laughing, she reached across the table and scuffed her hand over messy Delacourte hair. ‘Good job, buddy.’

  Every few minutes either one of the brothers came into the dining room and deposited a platter of steaming food onto the table. Turkey, roast potatoes, vegetables of every colour, a feast her Gramps would have been proud of. And she felt guilty, but deliciously pleased, not to be doing anything. They were working so well as a team it boded well for their new working relationship.

  So this was what it was like to be surrounded by family. Non-stop chatter, gentle teasing, laughter. Picking each other up when they were low, sharing the highs. This was what it felt like to part of something. A family. A happy Christmas.

  Her heart bloomed. And they’d welcomed her in, treated her as their own, made her feel special and not alone. The way she had been last year, licking her wounds, clinging to grief and, well…lonely. She knew that tomorrow, if at any point she needed them to shore her up on the anniversary of her grandfather’s death, they’d be there for her. As would her friends. All she had to do was reach and someone would catch her.

  Blake would catch her.

  Lump in her throat, she scraped her chair back and wiped away threatening tears with the base of her thumb. ‘Right, what can I do to help?’

  ‘Eat some of this lot.’ Brad sat down, followed by Blake, opposite her. ‘Blake seems to think we’re cooking for the whole neighbourhood.’

  ‘Such a shame Aunt Annabelle couldn’t make it. She had a prior invitation, apparently,’ Blake explained.

  Faith got the feeling it wasn’t really a shame at all. The two grown men were still just a little bit in awe of the formidable aunt who’d stepped into her brother’s shoes and brought up two teenagers. And now here they were, working and living together and finally getting along.

  She thought about how Blake sending flowers to Aunt Annabelle via Jenna had brought him into the florist shop at the same moment Faith had been there. How their subsequent argument had set off the fireworks and they hadn’t stopped popping since. Good old Aunt Annabelle, catalyst extraordinaire. ‘I’d like to meet her. She sounds awesome.’

  The brothers gave each other a knowing look. Blake grinned. ‘Sure. Yes. One day.’

  ‘Hey, she makes grown men carry cotton handkerchiefs, what’s not to like?’

  Freddie screwed his nose up. ‘She smells funny.’

  ‘Freddie. Don’t be mean.’ Brad shook his head in caution.

  But Freddie wasn’t having it. ‘It’s true. It’s flowers or something. It gets up my nose.’

  ‘And mine. It’s called perfume and she does use a bit too much.’ Blake laughed heartily. ‘Eat your vegetables, Fred, then you get the pick of which movie to watch afterwards while the grown-ups sleep off this food.’

  Daisy’s fork clattered onto her plate. ‘But isn’t Mummy coming soon?’

  ‘I don’t know, Daze.’ Her father’s face was grim and the ready smile gone. Stella’s name hadn’t been mentioned, not once, until now. As a weird silence fell over the brothers she got a feeling they’d been glossing over things. That there’d been tension they hadn’t admitted to. She felt it now, like a cold wind round her shoulders.

  Daisy wasn’t giving up. ‘She said after lunch. When’s after lunch?’

  ‘She’s…going to be a bit later now.’ Brad said, his voice breaking a little. Then he put his head in his hands. His shoulders heaved and when he looked up he was a mix of desperate and angry. He ran his palms over his face. ‘Sorry. Sorry.’ He cleared his throat. ‘She texted me. She said she’s running a bit late.’

  ‘When? When’s Mummy coming?’ Freddie’s feet were kicking against his chair leg. ‘Where’s Mummy?’

  Blake put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Come outside, we’ll give her another call now.’

  ‘In a minute,’ Brad snapped. ‘I’m just talking to her children.’

  ‘I want to talk to her.’ Daisy’s eyes darkened. ‘Please. Please can I talk to her?’

  Faith’s heart felt split into two. She hadn’t even spoken to them yet? What did a call cost? On Christmas Day? She looked over to Blake, but he shook his head and turned away.

  Christmas Day was rapidly disintegrating. She infused her voice with as much fun as she could muster. ‘Okay, who wants to play Snakes and Ladders? Daisy? Freddie? Come on, it’s fun.’

  The little boy shook his head, blinking back tears.

  Daisy’s head bowed and she picked at her fingernails. Eventually she managed, ‘I want Mummy.’

  Blake patted her head and said in his most gentle voice, ‘She’s…she’s going to come Daisy, I promise.’

  ‘I’ll call her again.’ Brad dipped out of the room, face set, eyes sparking so much hurt it was physically tangible. Blake shrugged and followed his brother, no doubt to help keep things civil.

 
Faith watched them go and slid over to sit next to Daisy, her heart breaking. Not knowing what to say, because there was nothing to say, she knew, that could possibly make a child feel better about this. ‘Sometimes adults don’t realise you’re waiting. They don’t mean to be late or change plans. They don’t want to upset you.’

  ‘Especially on Christmas.’

  Oh, she knew all about that. Her stomach was tight, like a coil, getting tighter with every second. Her throat felt closed in.

  Below, Brad’s voice was raised. Words like priority and damned Christmas Day and selfish wafted through the floorboards on a wintry draft. Faith turned the TV volume up so little ears couldn’t hear.

  Then he was back in the room, making his voice as light as possible while his face was dark as thunder. ‘She’s coming. She’ll be here in a few minutes.’

  She’ll be here.

  She’s not coming.

  I’m so sorry.

  Gramps’ arms holding her close, stopping the tears. Trying to. Soft words.

  Why did she have to come?

  Tinsel. Broken baubles.

  Hurt.

  Now the hurt rolled over and over her in waves.

  She needed to leave. Needed to go right now, actually, because she couldn’t seem to shift the panic that had slipped so easily back into her chest. She picked up her bag and found Blake in the kitchen clearing up. ‘I’ll get going then, Stella’s on her way.’

  ‘You don’t have to go.’

  ‘I do.’ The ache in her throat wouldn’t go away and all she knew was that she had to get some air. After saying goodbye to the rest of the family she made her way downstairs.

  Blake followed her. ‘I’ll walk you.’

  ‘No need, it’s only…here.’ So close. So close. Too close. Suffocating.

  Cold air whipped round her, but it didn’t give her the relief she was hoping for. She gulped it in, great mouthfuls, but still her throat felt blocked, thick.

  She stopped outside her front door, not knowing whether to invite him in. Not knowing how to describe or contain this feeling inside her.