The Best Little Christmas Shop

‘Yeah. I know.’ He ran a hand through the dark hair. ‘I know you were.’

‘Let me take the boxes then.’ I bent my knees to where he’d now put the purchases on the floor.

‘No, they’re pretty heavy.’

I blew out a sigh and stood, raising my eyes to him. ‘OK. Look. One, I’m stronger than I look and two, one way or the other you’re going to have to either leave George here whilst you take the boxes or leave him in the car whilst you come back and get them, and I don’t think you want to do either.’

His lack of reply was enough.

‘OK. So, you bring your son and I’ll bring these.’ I bent and scooped up the boxes, jiggled them into a better position, and peered around the side of the pile to see where I was going.

‘Are you sure you’re all right with those?’ Cal asked as George flopped softly against his shoulder.

‘Yes. So long as you’re not parked miles away, I’m fine.’

‘No, just down the road. Do you need to lock up or anything?’

‘No, it’s fine. Let’s just get going, shall we?’ The boxes were biting into my arms and I wasn’t about to show myself up by having to put them down again after I’d made such a song and dance.

Cal got the door and then led the way to a relatively new Land Rover Defender. He opened the boot and between us, him still with a sleeping child in one arm, we loaded the boxes into the storage area and wedged them in with a blanket and a coat so that they didn’t tip. He closed the door and went around the side, deftly popping his son in and securing him into his seat.

‘OK. Well, it was nice to meet you. Enjoy your purchases.’ I smiled and made to head off back to the shop.

‘Lexi?’ Cal called.

I turned and waited as he took the couple of steps towards me. There was a faint scent of aftershave now that he was close. Woody, masculine. Very him.

‘Look, I’m sorry if I snapped a bit at your offer earlier.’

‘It’s fine. I didn’t mean to cross any lines. I apologise if I did.’

‘No.’ He threw a glance back at the car, as if to check it was still there even though we were only two feet from it. ‘It’s me. I’m still pretty new to all this.’

‘All this?’ I queried.

‘People being kind, offering to help. Hell, even talking to one another for the most part.’

‘Right.’

‘I’ve hurt your feelings, which I would have felt a shit about anyway but after your kindness today, I feel a double shit about it.’

‘Honestly. Don’t give it another thought. I’m not.’

‘I think that’s a big fib.’

I tilted my chin up in defiance. ‘It’s not, I assure you.’ I think I was quite convincing until the big swallow I did gave me away.

A glimmer of a smile fleeted across his lips. ‘That’s what I thought. Look, I … it’s hard to explain. I just didn’t want George suddenly waking and find himself being carried along by someone he didn’t know then getting upset.’

‘It’s all right, Cal, really. You don’t have to justify anything to me.’

‘I think I do.’ He was watching me and once again the world around me seemed to melt into nothing. I’d never met anyone who could make me feel like I was the only one in the room before – even outside. And the thing was, I was pretty sure he had no idea he was doing it.

I took a deep breath, and looked away, feeling it to be the safer option. ‘OK. Let’s just agree that I didn’t mean to cross a line and you didn’t mean to bite my head off and move on shall we?’

The glimmer became more of a smile. ‘I think I’d like that.’

I smiled back. ‘Me too.’

‘Now get back inside before you freeze to death and I have something else to apologise for.’

I laughed, waved, and half ran along the narrow pavement before diving back into the warmth of the shop. As I did, Matt popped his head out from the back stock room.

‘There you are. Thought you’d abandoned ship.’

‘No, not yet. Just helping a customer to the car with his purchases.’

‘Good sale?’

‘Yep. Very good actually. I threw in a wreath for free because his little boy liked them.’

Matt put a mug of tea down on the desk in front of me and I wrapped my hands around it.

‘Ooh thanks, just what I need.’ I took a sip and then realised he was watching me. ‘What?’

‘You. You just make me laugh.’

I took another sip. ‘Do I dare to ask why?’

‘Well, you have this tough, tomboy outer layer –’

‘I do wear dresses sometimes, thank you.’

‘You know what I mean. You give off this tough-girl attitude, your job is predominantly male –’

‘My former job.’

‘Stop interrupting for two minutes, will you?’

‘Sorry.’ I made a zipping motion across my lips.

‘It just makes me laugh that you make people think things don’t bother you, that you’re tough as old leather – and we both know that’s not true. I just wonder why you always feel you have to do that. I can understand the work thing – why you don’t want to be all girly there. But you’re not as tough as you make out so why let people think that you are?’

‘Because it’s suited me. I’m not pretending to be anything I’m not anyway. I’m just not all feminine and girly like Giselle. She cries and looks beautiful. I cry and look like a red-faced, swollen-eyed, blotchy mess. It doesn’t quite have the same effect.’

‘I’m not saying you have to cry all the time. God forbid. I’m just saying you’re not as tough as you think you are … and that’s OK.’

‘Is there a point to this conversation?’ I asked, staring into my tea.