Christmas at the Little Wedding Shop

‘I’m not sure I’ll ever make it that far.’ He gives a laugh. ‘Thank Christmas you’re more Team Dan than Team Alice.’

Whoa. ‘I wasn’t aware we were taking sides here. Isn’t this a joint effort all round?’

‘My point entirely,’ he says.

I’m not certain, but I think he just contradicted himself hugely there. Not that I’m going to point it out.

He goes on. ‘Which is exactly why you should come and join me and stay at the cottage.’

‘What?’ For some reason I haven’t kept up with the logic here. Worse, I seem to be squeaking like a strangled mouse.

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. ‘It makes perfect sense, given we get on so well. At least until the others arrive. Bunking in together would save you running back and forwards into town.’

When I turn to examine his expression, there’s not an ounce of flirt in his eyes. Just a very direct, honest, blue green gaze. Which is actually way more unnerving. Because now I don’t know what the hell to think. Other than knowing this would be completely banned by Alice. And remembering there’s no way he’d be attracted to me with my non-existent figure and scruffy clothes.

As I open my mouth I’m unsure how to reply, but it doesn’t matter as he cuts me off short.

‘Obviously we don’t have to decide now.’ He gives me another elbow nudge, but this time there’s the thickness of an extra sweater between us, so it’s way less jolty than this morning’s naked one. ‘For the record…’ There’s a bit of a dramatic pause. ‘I do think hanging out with me twenty-four seven would do you a lot of good.’ He tops that off with one of those unapologetic grins of his.

‘Thanks for the offer,’ I say. For the record. Was that completely arrogant of him? Or just plain cheeky? Or an extremely kind thought to save me travelling time? As for exactly what he thinks I’m going to be hanging out… After this morning the mind boggles. ‘I’ll stay at home. At least for now.’

For a moment, thinking back to the shop and the best man that could have been, I consider a parallel universe where Johnny and I had just loaded fifty potted pines into the back of a van. Where he asks me to stay over. But before I decide how to answer, my sensible self takes over and stamps on that thought. Hard.

‘Okay, next job,’ Quinn says, rubbing his hands together. ‘Decorations for the cottages, from the Coach House.’ He’s suddenly sounding like Mr Efficiency. ‘And there should be a handyman guy in there doing repairs to the pony and trap Alice is hoping to arrive in.’

‘Cool.’ My reading hasn’t got as far as the bridal carriage yet. Hopefully I’ll get onto that tonight. On my own sofa.

As he pushes the gear stick forwards, his forehead creases into a frown. ‘You do realise, people don’t often turn me down, Sera.’

He seems particularly perplexed that I have. Although it’s really not exactly clear what I’ve said ‘no’ to here.

‘I don’t imagine they do.’ My lips twitch into a smile, but I can’t resist the next bit, because he said the same thing to me only half an hour ago. ‘But then I’m not “people”, Quinn.’

Me? I’m wary enough to put that easy charm and those aching good looks on hold every time. At least until I get to know him better.

In the meantime, we need to push on.

8 (#ulink_cbdb15a4-993c-5d97-8b6f-c9046d3f17a6)

Saturday, 17th December

In the kitchen at Daisy Hill Farm: Mistletoe sprigs and hearts on strings

As I reach the farmhouse, later that evening, I walk straight into Rafe giving Poppy what looks like the good-bye snog of her life on the doorstep.

‘Don’t mind him, he’s acting like he’s disappearing for a year,’ Poppy laughs, as she peels herself away. ‘He’s only going out to check the cows.’

It’s taken these two a year to make this work, but it’s been worth the wait. Believe me, if there was a guy who looked at you the way he looks at her, you’d reconsider your single status. Every time.

‘Are you still here working?’ As Poppy steps back to let me past, the scent of warm spice whooshes up my nose. ‘Come on in and warm up, I’m trying out Rafe’s Aga.’ She’s got her hair in a twist and icing sugar on her nose.

‘Thanks, it’s so cold out here, my fingers are like ice pops,’ I say. It’s dark and after stringing lights on trees, by every cottage door around the farm, despite my woolly gloves my hands feel like they belong to someone else.

Poppy peers down at the light-up Santa poking out of my pocket as she leads the way into the kitchen. ‘I see Santa’s doing his job, if you still have the office key.’

Between us, keeping track of all the cottage keys has been a nightmare. Quinn might be enthusiastic and strong, and know some hilarious jokes, but he’s a total ditz when it comes to losing things. For the first time in my life I completely understand why I’ve sent people round the bend with my vagueness in the past.

‘Look at your hessian hearts on strings, there’s so many of them,’ I say, as I take in the garlands criss-crossing the room. I thought we’d got a lot of deccies for the cottages, but seeing the number of hearts and bows in here, I’m not so sure we’ve got enough.

Poppy laughs. ‘This is Rafe’s welcome-back effort. Not a tractor part in sight either, though I’m not sure how long that’ll last.’

‘Are you baking?’ My mouth’s already watering, as I see the bowls and drifts of flour on the long kitchen table. It’s been three long months since I last wolfed down Poppy’s cakes, and I’ve missed them almost as much as I’ve missed her. Seeing as I was often in the studio at Brides by the Sea when she lived and baked her cakes in the top-floor flat, I was officially her chief taster.

‘You’ve timed it well. Fancy testing my gingerbread men?’ She nods at a pile of biscuits on a cooling tray. ‘They haven’t got any eyes yet. My icing pipes are still at the shop.’ She slides the kettle onto the Aga. ‘You’ve got roses in your cheeks from the cold. Like a drink to warm up?’

I’m suddenly so hungry I’m practically swooning at the thought of gingerbread. ‘Tea would be fab, please.’

‘I’ll make one for Quinn too.’ She pulls some mugs from the shelf. ‘You two looked like you were having fun when I saw you earlier.’

‘He’s a long way from the stuffed shirt I was expecting,’ I laugh. ‘He’ll be along soon. Great with fairy lights, too.’ Since he put his clothes on and covered up that disgustingly deep tan of his, we’ve got on better.

Poppy frowns. ‘Immie said she’d have been happy to put up the usual cottage decorations, but Alice wouldn’t hear of it.’

I pull a face. ‘I’m sorry Alice is a bit fussy. She wants every cottage themed, to match the wedding and the occupants.’ This won’t be the last time I apologise for her. ‘Actually I came to check if it’s okay to take the pig pictures down?’ Another of Alice’s specific instructions.

Poppy’s face breaks into a grin. ‘We’re all with Alice on that one. Those pigs are hideous. Leave them in the office, with any luck they won’t go back up again.’ She puts three mugs on the chunky wood table and piles a plate high with gingerbread men. ‘Is there much left for you to do in the cottages?’

Sliding onto a chair, I slip off my jacket, then grab a tea and dunk my biscuit. ‘Loads.’ I sink my teeth into a delicious gingerbread leg to stem my panic. Because ‘loads’ is a huge understatement. Each cottage has an individual tree with hand-made decorations. Then there are bespoke toiletries, wicker wreaths, pillow chocolates, rose petals, scented candles, boxes of Turkish delight, hampers, fruit bowls and a mistletoe sprig. And tasteful pictures to replace the pigs. And Christmas garlands. ‘The job’s so massive, if I hadn’t had a gingerbread intake at exactly this minute, I might actually have given up.’ I’m not joking either.

Poppy stares at me over the top of her mug. ‘Maybe Immie and I could help?’

‘No, I couldn’t possibly expect you to do that. You haven’t even met Alice yet.’

‘Really, it’s fine, Sera. We’re all here for each other. Look how you stepped in with my bestie last summer. The dress you lent Cate gave her the wedding of her dreams.’

‘But Cate let us use her photos for publicity…’ I’m hesitating, knowing the difference more hands would make.

Poppy comes over and squeezes my shoulder. ‘Think of this as payback for you making Cate’s day wonderful. That wedding might not even have happened without your dress.’ She’s being very persuasive.

‘You really have time to help?’ If I didn’t have my mouth full of gingerbread man, I’d kiss her.

She smiles. ‘I’m just back from London, with no cake orders, and no weddings to sort out. And who doesn’t love Christmas decorations?’

‘You might not be saying that when you get to the end,’ I groan. ‘But if you’re sure, I’d be so grateful.’

‘Call in first thing, show us exactly how you want things. Then leave it with us.’ Poppy’s still patting my hand when the door opens.

‘Can I smell gingerbread?’ Quinn’s rugged face appears as he dips under a heart garland. ‘I let myself in, I hope that’s okay?’