‘Have you always been good with your hands?’ Meg asked, and Tom turned to stare as her cheeks reddened. ‘I mean, have you always been able to fix things?’ She kept her voice even, but butterflies had begun to climb from her chest into her throat.
‘Is this an interview?’ he asked, looking wary.
‘My shop, my turn to ask the questions.’ She smiled when he frowned. His face was made for dark, moody expressions. She’d always favoured smiley people – Ned had never stopped – but there was something soulful and mysterious about Tom. It made her want to scratch the surface, to find out what made him tick.
‘I like fixing things,’ he said simply.
‘Because?’
‘In some small way, I feel like I’m doing something worthwhile. Working with my hands helps me stay connected to the world.’ His eyes sparkled suddenly. ‘You like helping people – you rescued me when I broke down, found Morag a new pet, let your family stay. I may have found something we have in common, after all.’
‘Yet you still don’t like Christmas…’ Meg said, with a woeful sigh.
There was a thump overhead and Tom’s eyes darkened. ‘Everything okay?’
Meg nodded. ‘Of course.’ Her voice sounded wrong.
‘How are your parents getting on?’ he asked.
‘Same as… usual,’ she stumbled, wondering why she was finding it harder to pretend each time he asked.
Tom stared at her for a moment. It was like he was reading her, seeing inside her mind, sidestepping all the pretence and lies. She broke eye contact and looked at the patterned cloth on the table in front of her, at the grinning snowmen peppered between green holly and red berries, and tried to find some solace in the festive image.
Tom came out from behind the counter and picked up a different wrench from the toolbox. His eyes skimmed her face. ‘Were the toddlers out again this evening? They missed your cheeks, but you have a sparkly nose.’ Their eyes met, but then he must have realised he was staring, because he walked back to the sink. There was another bang overhead. ‘They staying long?’
Meg put her mobile into the deck beside the counter and switched it on, filling the room with music, masking any further noise. A Christmas song came on and Tom stiffened, but she decided not to tease him about it again. ‘Mum and Emily are booked on a flight on the twenty-first, so another week, and Dad’s here until they go, I suppose.’ Her stomach tightened. ‘The subject’s a little uncomfortable so we haven’t discussed it.’ They hadn’t discussed anything. She picked at a piece of tinsel hanging on the wall beside her, twisting the strands between her fingers. She usually loved the way the light reflected in it, creating different colours, obliterating everything else and lifting her spirits, but today she still felt unsettled.
‘So you’ll spend Christmas here alone?’
‘That’s the way I want it,’ Meg said chirpily.
‘Snap,’ he said seriously. ‘Those similarities are stacking up.’ He had a sexy voice, with a deep timbre when he pronounced the letter ‘r’ that vibrated low in her belly.
Meg swallowed. ‘Do you want a drink?’ Her voice was brusque. ‘Or a mince pie? I’m all out of cheese…’
‘I’m good.’ He gave her a half-smile. ‘Almost finished now.’
Cooper came to press his head into Meg’s legs again, and Tom turned as she scratched his ears. ‘You know he’s always around if you want to talk?’ he said lightly.
Meg nodded, her eyes filling with tears – she smiled to mask them.
Tom put his tools back into the bag and Cooper whined. The dog nudged against her heels as Tom closed the lid and looked down at her. They were close, and Cooper nosed her again, perhaps trying to push them together? He’d probably decided if she entertained Tom, they wouldn’t have to go back into the snow. ‘I shouldn’t admit to this… but if you talk to Cooper, I might listen in. I’m good at fixing things.’ Deep grooves appeared in his forehead. ‘Not my own problems – other people’s are much easier.’
‘I don’t think you can make this better with a new washer,’ Meg said sadly, and Tom gave her one of his rare smiles. ‘You don’t do that much,’ she observed.
‘What?’ he asked, his eyes moving slowly to hers again.
She made a smiley face gesture with her finger in the air between them, tracing the arch of his mouth, making it transform into a genuine grin that took her breath. His brown eyes warmed and her heart thumped again as she swallowed. Cooper was still pressed against her, so she couldn’t step back. Even though every cell in her body was warning her this man was wrong for her. She could smell Tom now, a mixture of sawdust, paint and something woody. He reached out and ran the tip of his finger across her nose, then examined it.
‘Despite everything, you smile a lot,’ he said. ‘Do you think it’s catching, like the glitter?’ He showed her his finger. Some of the sparkles had transferred, making it shimmer.
‘Perhaps,’ she said, her voice husky.
‘You’ve got some on your lips too.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth, her stomach sank, and every inch of her body began to hum. Then his eyes lowered to take in her outfit. ‘Is it magic? I’m wondering, if I kiss you, will I be happy all the time, or turn into an elf?’
She barked out a laugh and his eyes sparkled. ‘Now I’d say that’s a risk worth taking,’ she said because he was obviously joking. ‘Besides, Santa could do with the extra help.’
His face turned serious. He dipped his head so he could move his mouth lightly across hers. Not joking then. His lips were soft and full and Meg found herself leaning into them, found her hand moving up so she could stroke the stubbled surface of his jaw. It felt softer than she’d expected and she ran her fingers lightly across it before touching the ends of his hair, which curled around the tips as if determined to lock them there. He turned his head as they explored each other’s mouths. He didn’t touch her anywhere else. It was almost as if he couldn’t trust himself, or he didn’t want to get that close. She felt tingles travelling from her lips down to her toes and had to stop herself from grabbing him. She hadn’t been kissed like this in a long time, hadn’t wanted to have these feelings. But somehow, like a kid unwrapping a Christmas present, determined to find out what was under the layers – she couldn’t help herself. Definitely couldn’t stop.
Tom moved back and looked down. His top lip was sparkly now.
‘I think I am rubbing off on you.’ She pointed to his mouth when he looked confused. ‘But you’re not smiling anymore.’ She swallowed, wondering if she was going mad, deciding she definitely was, but seemingly unable to stop the slow slide into insanity. She was drawn to him for some reason, and she had no idea why that was. She only knew she didn’t want to fight it. At least, not at this exact moment. She was prepared to dismiss every reservation and sensible thought in the name of chemistry. ‘Perhaps we should try again?’ She stepped forwards, felt the dog move with her – determined to push them together. She lifted her head up and went back onto her tiptoes so she could reach. He was a lot taller and had to bend. Yet another mark against them. For a moment Meg didn’t think he would, but then Tom must have changed his mind. This kiss was less gentle. It was as though they’d done the preliminaries, unwrapped the first layer, and were ready to go deeper. It was hotter and hastier. Tom still didn’t touch her. But she let her hand snake around him, across the waistband of his trousers, tracing the muscular torso, following the line of taut muscles up the centre of his back. Heat shot through her entire body. He felt warm and solid and she wanted so much to lean into him, but didn’t want to push things too far. Besides, she had no idea what was happening here, why two people with so little in common seemed so physically in tune.
This time she broke the kiss and leaned back. By her feet Cooper let out a long sigh, realising he wasn’t going to get his way. She stepped over the dog, and moved backwards again until she hit the wall. Then she folded her arms across her chest.
‘Well, that was…’ Her eyes tipped upwards as she spotted the s
ingle sprig of mistletoe hanging like the Sword of Damocles above Tom’s head. Had that been to blame for what had happened? He looked up too and grimaced before starting to pack the tools away. ‘Thank you,’ she said, trying to find some normality. ‘For fixing the tap and for… being so kind.’
He nodded without looking at her. ‘All part of the service.’ He winced. ‘Perhaps not that last bit.’
Meg could feel him on her lips, and forced herself not to run a fingertip over them while he was standing there. ‘Why not?’ She gave him a smile, intent on proving the encounter hadn’t affected her, a little overwhelmed by how much it had. ‘A kissing plumber – it’s definitely a selling point. I’ll make sure I tell Morag and Cora. You’ll get a lot of emergency calls from the members of the Jam Club.’
‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ He looked embarrassed.
‘I probably shouldn’t have either, but we were in that kiss together,’ she said firmly. ‘So don’t feel guilty about it. You made me feel a lot better this evening. Let’s call it a little Christmas madness brought on by tinsel, glitter and my incredibly sexy elf outfit.’ She looked down at her red trousers and green top and did a little wiggle, aiming to lighten the mood. ‘Let’s face it, I’m pretty irresistible.’
It worked, because Tom laughed, visibly relaxing. ‘It seems I might have a soft spot for it after all.’ He closed his toolbox and picked it up.
‘Maybe I’ll order you one of your own.’ Meg followed him before she stopped. ‘How much do I owe you for fixing the tap?’
‘Nothing. It was a favour. All part of my quest to give back.’ He headed for the door with Cooper dragging his paws, looking dejected.
Meg picked up a bauble on the way past one of the shelves. ‘Then I owe you a favour in return. At least let me give you one of these.’ She held the bauble up in front him, almost giggling at his horrified expression. ‘Seriously, make a promise and hang it on the tree. You’re in Lockton now, Tom, practically one of us. Perhaps you could promise to like Christmas a smidgen – there may be something you can find to enjoy if you think hard enough?’ She grinned again, charmed by his thoughtful expression. Tom frowned, but took the bauble and placed it into his pocket. He stared at her for a moment and then opened his mouth, just as someone began to hammer loudly at the front of the shop.
Lilith stood, dripping, in the entrance as Meg unlocked and opened the door. She was wearing jeans, a bright red jumper, a long coat and sensible flat shoes which made her about six inches shorter than usual. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere,’ she wailed at Tom. ‘I called the pub and Davey said Cora told him you were here.’ Her eyes flicked between Tom and Meg and she looked suspicious. Then she noticed the toolbox in Tom’s hand and let out a relieved breath. ‘Grazie Dio. I have an emergency. A pipe’s cracked in the hotel kitchen. There’s water everywhere. The plumber I usually use isn’t answering his phone. I don’t know what to do.’ She ran a hand through her dark hair, looking distressed and tugging random strands from the shiny, perfect ponytail. ‘The floor is completely flooded. There was a big bang, and now the fridge and freezer have gone off. The kettle won’t work either.’ She let out an unsteady breath. ‘You have to help. I must fix it pronto. My guests… and what about Christmas? My parents are coming in ten days and everything has to be perfect!’ Her Italian accent became more pronounced as she fired off each word in rapid succession, like bullets from an AK-47. The hysterical tirade was such a contrast to the cool, calm persona Lilith normally portrayed.
‘Don’t worry. I can come now,’ Tom offered, ignoring Cooper’s whine.
‘I will too,’ Meg said. When Lilith began to shake her head, she added, ‘You’re going to need a dogsbody to help clear up the mess.’
Lilith’s face darkened. They had a long history – involving Meg’s ex Ned who had dated them both for a time. Lilith had blamed Meg, accusing her of being the cheater. They hadn’t put the whole affair completely behind them and Meg could tell the chef wasn’t sure. ‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘I haven’t time to argue. My car is outside. I’ll drive us and drop you back later – we need to go now.’
Meg didn’t wait to pick up a coat. She suspected Lilith would leave her behind and wasn’t crazy about the idea of being back in her flat. Instead she trailed Tom and Cooper as they headed out of the shop, stopping so she could pull the door closed behind her and quickly lock up. Then she followed, wishing Lilith had appeared just a little later, wondering exactly what Tom had been about to say to her those few moments before.
Twelve
‘How bad is it?’ Davey asked from the back of Lilith’s sleek, black four-by-four Maserati where he was sitting between Cooper and Meg. They’d stopped beside Apple Cross Inn to pick him up and he’d been waiting outside, dressed in boots and practical dark clothes that suggested he’d been hoping for the call. Tom had insisted Davey come – he suspected he’d need as many pairs of hands as he could get and wanted the safety of additional numbers. After kissing Meg in her cafe – then almost asking her out – he wasn’t sure he could trust himself to be around her without a crowd, or at the very least a straitjacket. It was hard enough sitting in the same car. What was it about that ridiculous red and green outfit? He hated Christmas and had never harboured a secret desire to kiss an elf, for God’s sake… but it was the first time in almost three years his heart had kicked up a notch.
‘It’s a catástrofe,’ Lilith answered, shaking her head.
‘Don’t worry.’ Davey reached forward to pat her gently on the shoulder as she drove through the snow towards the hotel. ‘We can… whatever’s happened. What I mean is, whatever’s happened, we’ll help.’ He paused, his face contorting. ‘You, we’ll help you.’
Lilith exhaled loudly but didn’t respond, and Tom wondered what her story was. Davey was clearly crazy about her. Normally he was so calm and collected, so in control, but when he was around Lilith he turned into a babbling idiot. Lyrics began to form in his mind about unrequited love – like random puzzle pieces finding the exact perfect spot, linking together until they’d formed a picture. His fingers joined in, subconsciously tapping a beat on his jeans, picking out complementary notes like a magpie selecting the most attractive shiny objects. Until he realised what he was doing.
He swore and made his hand into a fist, then stared out of the windscreen, ignoring Meg in the back and the Promise Tree as they drove past, taking a left out of Lockton. Snow was falling in huge flakes, settling on the bright white road framed with swollen drifts on either side. They travelled in silence, absorbed in their thoughts – then five minutes later Tom saw a building in the distance. He could see it was old and had three floors. Most of the lights were on, a beacon in the darkness. Then Lilith swung into a car park and pulled up behind the hotel, screeching to a stop beside a low stone wall. She hopped out and slammed the door, then signalled at them to follow, running through the snow then down some steps, and throwing open a door before waiting beside it. Davey reached her first and followed Lilith inside, down more steps to the kitchen.
They stood at the edge of the huge room, taking a moment to review the situation. The kitchen took up at least half of what Tom guessed was an old basement, although it was obvious it had been extended. It was lit by lantern torches that had been placed on counters in the four furthest corners. There was a large white worksurface in the centre, which he suspected was where most of the cooking took place. The left-hand wall was lined with high-tech silver fridges, including one filled with wine, but there were no lights indicating they were on. Another wall held a couple of sinks and a shiny metal draining board. The floor was submerged and water streamed from a pipe to the right of the sink unit. Someone had wrapped a couple of bright blue towels around it, but they did nothing to stem the flow.
‘I’m sure that bang meant the electric fused.’ Lilith stepped onto the flooded tiled floor. ‘I know it’s safe to walk here because I already have. The rest of the hotel’s on a different electrical circuit so the g
uests are fine. I’ve looked for the stopcock.’ She pronounced the word carefully, her accent strong. ‘I switched it off, but nada!’ She threw up her arms, glaring at the leaking pipe as if it could understand and had simply chosen to misbehave.
Davey let out a heavy sigh and followed her into the wet, then Tom did the same, ignoring the frigid water as it seeped into his boots. He held out a hand to Meg who gingerly took it so he could help her take the last step. She let go immediately, probably registering the same flare of heat. She was still wearing her elf suit and a pair of green boots that were the perfect accompaniment to the outfit and looked waterproof. But she hadn’t worn a coat and he noticed a shiver rack her body. He pulled his off and offered it to her.
‘You’ll get cold.’
She shook her head.
‘I’m about to get on my knees in this. I’m wondering if you’ll keep my coat warm and dry by wearing it? If I leave it with Cooper, he’ll just slobber all over it looking for biscuits.’ He gave her a half-smile. ‘Please?’
He watched her face as she warred with indecision. ‘Fine. But tell me if you want it back, and if you start shivering, all bets are off.’ She pulled it on and tugged it around her. Then she pointed at Cooper, who was perched in a dry patch at the edge of the kitchen, watching them with a baleful expression. ‘He’s a smart dog.’ She smiled, making his heart thump again. ‘Have you any mops?’ Meg asked Lilith, who was scowling at the floor.
‘Sì, in the cupboard.’ Lilith pointed to the corner, and Meg picked up one of the lanterns from the counter, disappearing inside the small room.
‘That’s a bad leak.’ Davey knelt so he could look at the pipe, then pulled one of the towels away. He was immediately sprayed with a jet of icy water and quickly replaced the towel, turning to Tom with a grimace, his face dripping wet. ‘I think that observation represented the extent of my expertise in this situation.’ He was word perfect now he wasn’t talking directly to Lilith. He swiped a hand over his face and grinned when Meg reappeared with a couple of buckets and mops, and put them on the floor. ‘Fortunately I’ve never had a problem with getting my hands dirty.’
If Every Day Was Christmas: A gorgeous and heart-warming Christmas romance Page 9