Something Beginning With Mistletoe (Something Borrowed Book 3)

by Louisa George

  ‘Yes, I know. I’m sorry to push you, but I need more to work with than that.’ Blake’s hand slid over hers and it was solid and yet soft, sturdy and steady against her trembling fingers. She curled them into his.

  ‘Over there.’ Filling her lungs with air, she pointed to the front of the bar with her free hand. ‘Boxing Day morning, two years ago.’

  ‘He died in here?’ His eyes shadowed as he frowned and she knew he felt the blow on her behalf.

  ‘Yes.’ She blew air out slowly to calm her nerves. It didn’t work. But, strangely, her grandfather’s scent seemed to waft through the bar and she felt immediately comforted. Was he here? Somehow? Watching over her? Was that magic too?

  ‘He came down to open up. I was upstairs doing something…I can’t even remember what. I heard a grunt. A weird kind of cry of pain. Something almost animal. Then a loud crash.’

  ‘Oh, Faith, I’m so sorry.’ Blake’s fingers tightened around hers, giving her something to grip against.

  The hurt in her heart was fierce now, making her blink back tears. She was not going to cry, she’d cried enough. It wasn’t going to bring her grandfather back. No amount of wanting, hoping, wishing brought back people who’d left you. How many times had she had to learn that?

  ‘I came straight down. He was lying on the floor, the tree on top of him. He was covered in tinsel. There was broken glass from the fallen baubles that had crashed to the floor. I didn’t have any shoes on and I walked through some of it to get to him. I thought he’d just fallen over and made a daft comment about him having more water with his liquor next time. But he didn’t move. He was dead. Just like that. In a matter of seconds. Can you imagine? I made a stupid joke and he was dying.’

  ‘You didn’t know how bad it was, darling.’

  Darling. She tried to swallow back the lump in her throat. He was just being nice. It was the kind of tone he’d use with Daisy. Soft and gentle and coaxing. ‘It’s just like me, though, right? Speaking before thinking. Making a joke when he’s lying on the floor dead from a heart attack. He must have grabbed the tree as he fell and brought it down on top of him.’

  Blake looked over to their tree and nodded as he processed it all.

  She didn’t even wait for him to speak. More words came out in a rush, unfettered. If Gramps was truly looking down on her right now he’d be shaking his head. But she needed to get this out.

  ‘The ambulance came but there was nothing they could do, so they took him away to be certified. And I was left here on my own, clearing everything up. All those fallen baubles, the tinsel, and the stupid Christmas music playlist we’d made going over and over and over on a loop. He’d been the best thing about Christmas. He’d made it magical for me.’

  Blake sat back and nodded. ‘And the rest of your family? Dad? Mum?’

  Faith shivered. ‘Dad’s never been on the scene. Mum lives in Spain. She came back for the funeral, obviously, but couldn’t wait to get away. Back to the sunshine.’ Back to whichever lover she’d got these days, back to whichever family she’d chosen to be with for the holidays, and as far away as possible from her daughter.

  ‘No wonder you hate Christmas.’ Blake tipped the glass to her mouth again. ‘Finish it. Then I’ll put the tree somewhere out of view, take it to my place or something, and we’ll do it another day.’

  ‘No. We need to do it soon. Let’s get it over with.’ Her limbs felt so heavy and tired and she tried to summon the strength to be enthusiastic. Emotion was exhausting. The sooner she got through this, the better.

  He shook his head. ‘That is not how you’re supposed to think of Christmas decorations. It’s supposed to be something you enjoy.’

  It had been, briefly, with Gramps. ‘I can possibly manage tolerate. Just don’t put on any of that cheesy music.’

  His eyes narrowed as he thought for a moment. ‘I know. You need some new memories. Let’s play…something…loud.’ He jumped up, flicked on the music system with one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. After some technical wizardry the Black Eyed Peas’ I Gotta Feeling started playing at full blast. He threw his head back and started to jump up and down. ‘Come on, Faith. Dance.’

  ‘This is not a Christmas song!’

  A smile spread wide on that gorgeous face. The dimple…dimpled. ‘It’s a not-Christmas song. Come on.’

  Something fizzed in her chest watching him smile just for her. The sadness still lingered but there was light too. He wiggled his bum…all kinds of sexy and sweet. She wanted to laugh, wanted to feel better.

  Taking her hand, he pulled her up from her seat and danced her to the tree. Which he then picked up by its thick, heavy stump. It wobbled as he straightened, leaning precariously to the left. ‘Okay, grab the bucket and let’s get her in. Is she straight?’

  ‘She? Er…no.’

  ‘Definitely a she.’ Wedging the tree into the bucket he stood back a little and studied it, his head on a tilt. ‘She has a completely independent mind. Look at her. Won’t do anything I ask.’

  ‘Maybe she likes being on an angle.’ The fast beat was making her shoulders bob and her hips move too. She laughed as he stuck his head through the branches and tried to straighten them, pulling a face as the needles sprung back and hit him on the cheek.

  He grunted. ‘Quick, she’s fighting back. Are we straight yet?’

  ‘Right. Right a bit more. No…wait.’ She ran to help him, giggling as they tussled the unruly branches, as her hands touched his and a zillion sparks fired through her. Emotion was exhausting, especially when it swung from sadness to something akin to joy and then desire in a matter of minutes. Her heart couldn’t keep up. She took a step back and perused man and tree. ‘Okay. Perfect.’

  Perfect? That was a big jump from Bigshot. The fizzing in her chest intensified.

  Having made sure the tree was stable, he ran to the front door. ‘Wait there. I have a lot of decorations in the car.’

  ‘Wow.’ He came back with three huge boxes of tinsel and baubles and fake snow and streamers. ‘Glitter?’

  ‘For sure. Crack open this packet of baubles and put them on the tree. Then we’ll wrap the place in tinsel.’ He handed her the packet, his head bopping up and down in time with the fast music.

  What followed was a whacky playlist of inappropriate summer songs, one purely about beer, an opera song she knew from a car advert, something about the Easter bunny and Happy Birthday in three different languages. Her cheeks hurt from laughing so hard.

  By the time they’d got all the decorations up the pub looked almost as glittery as his flat and there was no space left on the ceiling for any more looped paper streamers.

  It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

  A huge rock filled her throat. He could have walked away. He could have not listened, or not cared, but he wanted to make her feel better and now she did.

  As she stepped down from the stepladder tears were spilling down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them no matter how hard she tried. Crazy, stupid tears, because it was all too much for her to deal with. She scrubbed them away with the back of her hand. And again. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  The second he noticed he was by her side, taking her hand, helping her down the steps. When she reached the bottom rung he thumbed a tear. ‘I made you cry, I’m sorry.’

  ‘From laughing.’ And because he was so kind, and yes, there was still pain in her chest, because Gramps should bloody well still be here, but it wasn’t so bad right now. She took the handkerchief Blake held out to her and wiped her eyes. ‘I will never put up Christmas decorations again without listening to Summer of Sixty-Nine.’

  ‘It’s a whole new tradition. And here’s another one I chose for you.’ Bohemian Rhapsody started and he sang along to the words, breaking off to say, ‘It’s a measure of someone’s character as to whether or not they know all the words and the exact time to do the head-bopping thing.’

  ‘Oh trust me, I know. This is one of the regulars’ Friday night fav
ourites and there’s always someone drunk, standing on the table and conducting the rest of the singing crowd.’ The guitar solo rang out and Faith knew the exact moment to start shaking her head. It was the weirdest Christmas preparation she’d ever done. Quite possibly one of the best.

  When the music finished Blake did the high cymbal shiver then fist pumped. ‘You certainly know your stuff.’

  ‘Did I pass the character test?’

  Grinning, he held out his hand towards her. ‘You passed.’

  So did you. She reached for his hand, caught it and whirled into his arms as Katy Perry started singing about kissing a girl.

  But Faith wanted to kiss this man so freaking badly it hurt.

  His hand slipped to her waist and he turned her to face him. Inhaling sharply, he squeezed her against his hard body, the heat in his eyes burning as bright as when they’d kissed.

  The song ended. Silence stretched as she looked up at him. He stroked her cheek with his thumb and she shivered as desire swirled hot through her.

  The connection between them wound tighter and tighter. She felt the hard edges of his shoulders under her fingers. Fought the urge to smooth down the mussed-up tufts in his hair. An ache so fierce she could barely breathe tugged her closer to him until his mouth was a breath away.

  She could kiss him. Just like that. She could just do it because she knew he wouldn’t try again, not after what she’d said about the last kiss being a mistake.

  The best mistake of her life, and oh God, she wanted him now. She hadn’t stopped wanting him, she’d just been trying to convince herself she could. She wanted to tiptoe and press her mouth on his. To taste him again.

  He felt it too, she could tell by the way his eyes changed from laughter to heated in a millisecond. The way his breathing hitched.

  Lust overran good sense and she raised her mouth to his.

  ‘Faith.’ His words were from deep in his throat. A warning.

  Then the sudden swish of the front door and an icy blast had Faith’s back stiffening.

  ‘Hello! Wow, this looks amazing—oh. Oops! Sorry.’

  Jenna.

  Perfect timing. Not.

  Actually, it was if it stopped them doing something they’d regret.

  I certainly don’t regret it.

  Faith’s heart swelled as she jumped away from his arms and brushed her palms over her legs, the sharp ache of lust fading as quickly as if she’d rolled in the deepening snow outside her door. Words were difficult to find. ‘Um, hey. What’s up?’

  Jenna had an excited sparkle in her eye that added wariness to Faith’s embarrassment. But hopefully she was too good a friend to make things any more awkward. She was carrying a box of little bags, filled with what looked like glitter and oats, tied with brown pipe cleaners shaped into antlers. ‘I’m just dropping off some stuff for the party—pretend reindeer food and the only decorations we managed to salvage from the fire. But I can come back if this isn’t a convenient time.’

  Inconvenient wasn’t scratching the surface. Blake was already feet away now, collapsing the stepladder. Faith felt the distance keenly, but she couldn’t look at him. Hypnotised by laughter and fun, she’d almost crossed a line that she knew would change their relationship forever. Better that he was her friend. She liked him too much for the shine to dim and then lose him altogether. ‘No, it’s fine. We’re all done with the decorations.’

  ‘It looks so lovely. You’ve done an amazing job.’ Jenna made her way over to the tree and popped the huge box onto the floor. ‘If you don’t want to make a grotto we can get Santa to just sit on a chair over by the tree.’

  ‘Oh, yes. Right. We haven’t managed that. Yet. But Blake’s busy. He’s got things going on, his bar opening and…stuff. We’ll just have to make do as is.’ She didn’t know if she could spend more time with him while trying to ignore this ache to touch him, kiss him, taste him.

  Hot chocolate, ice cream and that unique taste of him that she couldn’t get enough of.

  ‘I’ll make a grotto.’ Blake’s voice was husky and dark as he hauled the stepladder onto one shoulder and made his way to the door. ‘Leave it with me. Bye, Jenna. Faith.’

  She turned to look at him then, and their eyes connected. He gave her the slightest nod and small secretive smile, and her heart shifted. No man—other than Gramps—had ever made her chest feel so light and yet full at the same time. No man had ever made her want to follow him out of the pub and get naked with him in the middle of Portobello Road.

  Which meant she was in a whole lot of trouble.

  They definitely needed some space. Mars would have been a great idea. But maybe even Mars wasn’t far enough away.

  Because, when it came down to it, geography didn’t matter when the feelings were inside you.

  Chapter 7

  ‘Do not say one word Jenna Cassidy-Pearce, you hear me?’ Faith glared at her friend, mortification flushing her cheeks hot. ‘Not one word.’

  But she didn’t need to. Her friend’s face said everything as her eyes followed Blake out of the pub door.

  Faith couldn’t blame her for looking—it was a mighty fine backside. And those good-looking thighs, strong, broad back…those thighs…but kissing him again? What the heck had she been thinking?

  ‘Hubba hubba.’ Jenna’s eyes were still wide and teasing as she did a zip action across her mouth. ‘Sorry. Um. This is a cone of silence. No mention of what I’ve just seen. But I can’t ever unsee that, okay? Did I stop you or had you just finished?’

  ‘We hadn’t started.’

  ‘God, I’m sorry. You want me to call him back over so you can start all over again?’

  ‘Don’t you bloody well dare.’ Faith raised her hand to her throat and did a sawing action. ‘I mean it. Hush already.’

  ‘Um, okay, whatever.’ Frowning, Jenna looked up at the music speakers above the bar. A lilting soprano filled the airwaves. ‘What the heck are you listening to? Isn’t that the music from that car ad? I like it. But classical music? In The Duke? Won’t it frighten all your regulars off?’

  ‘It’s a new playlist.’ Which made Faith’s heart pump just a little bit faster as she thought of Blake’s smile and the dance and the…stop it. She dragged her thoughts to here and now. ‘I’m sure everyone will love it. Just a bit of a laugh, really. Wait there…I’ll just put the open sign out.’

  She dragged the chalkboard sign out onto the pavement and breathed in the fresh, cold air. Then, as if they had a mind of their own, her eyes flitted towards Ginspiration. The white plastic was still there so she couldn’t see where Blake was. Didn’t know what he was thinking. Or feeling.

  Which was of no consequence. She had work to do. And so did he.

  Right on time Old Billy and his mate Patrick, lately retired from running the mini-supermarket, wandered in. The first of her regulars. Like clockwork every day, from eleven to eleven she had a steady stream of people taking their lunch breaks, clocking off from work or just popping in for a chat. Most of them had been coming for years. Some were lonely, some just thirsty, but she made it a priority to take her time with them all.

  ‘Hey, I know this one. It’s an advert.’ Billy started to sing along with the music, out of time and out of tune. ‘La lalalala. Turbo something…lalalala…fuelinjection!’

  Patty covered his ears. ‘Please, Faith, put something else on. He’s making my eardrums bleed.’

  Laughing, she poured their usual pints and handed them over. ‘No, I’ve decided we need to be more cultured in here.’

  ‘Hey, Faithy, put that Geordie Shore on the TV, there’s a good girl.’ Billy took a good long drink of stout and smacked his lips together. ‘I want to see how Gaz is getting on with that big northern lassie. Whatsername?’

  ‘I have no idea.’ Faith turned to Jenna and gave her a glass of lemonade. ‘See? We definitely need an injection of culture in here.’ Something along the lines of white pressed handkerchiefs and tortoiseshell glasses. People helping others on an
d off with their coats. ‘Sorry, Billy, you know the rules. Only sport and news channels allowed.’

  ‘No, nothing X-rated on the telly for Faith. She gets enough of it first-hand these days.’ Jenna’s eyes grew wider. ‘Sorry, did I say that out loud?’

  ‘Yes, you bloody well did.’ Even Faith’s ear tips were burning. She leaned over the bar and said, ‘I have not had sexual relations with that man.’

  Not that she didn’t want them. But that was a very different issue altogether.

  ‘Then you should. It’s fun.’

  Giving your heart to someone and then having them leave didn’t sound like a whole heap of fun to Faith. ‘Just because you’ve suddenly got a sex life doesn’t mean we all want one. I’m rubbish at relationships. I’m not looking for anything. Not him. Not anyone. I’m fine, thanks. Leave me alone. Move on.’

  She’d almost kissed him again. And now she was angry and grateful to Jenna in equal measure. Because what would have happened if she hadn’t walked in?

  Seeing Billy’s empty glass a few feet away, she removed herself from her friend’s eagle eyes, collected the empty and popped it into the dishwasher. Poured him another. Handed it over with a smile. She could do this. This was easy. Clearing up after everyone and tending to their needs was her specialty, that way she didn’t have to spend too much time thinking about herself.

  How to distract Jenna? ‘So how come you’re in here and not slaving away in the flower shop? Aren’t you needed on urgent posy business or something?’

  ‘Chloe’s in there holding the fort. It’s mostly taking orders for Christmas week at the moment, and some winter wedding bouquets, which I’m going to do later when Mum takes Evie to the pantomime. Which leaves me plenty of time to grill you. Because I think you’re protesting way too much, my love.’ Jenna lowered her voice, and grinned. ‘From where I was standing it looked a lot like things were definitely developing. Is Mr Bigshot also Mr Big—?’ She formed her hands into…well, about eight inches of space.