And at every turn, there had been Owen, she recalled longingly. Owen with his burning blue gaze, making her feel desired, wanted. Like she was the most important person in the room.
The woman I’m falling in love with.
He’d been open with his feelings, telling her even though he knew she wasn’t ready to say the words back. It was time for her to show him how important he was becoming to her, too.
Turning to her mum, she indicated to the drinks cabinet in the sitting room. ‘If you want to get us both a nightcap, I’ll be down in a minute. There’s something I need to do.’
She returned five minutes later to find her mother sitting on the sofa, a glass of brandy in her hand.
‘Where’s mine?’
Her mother shook her head. ‘I don’t want you drinking and driving.’
‘But I’m not going anywhere.’
Her mother gave her a knowing smile. ‘Are you sure? Because I think I know where I’d be if I were you. And it wouldn’t be here.’
Gabby’s heart jumped. ‘What are you saying?’
‘My dear Gabriela, you know exactly what I’m saying. Go back to your man. Don’t end up like me, all alone.’
Gabby’s heart, closed to her mother for so long she’d begun to believe it was stuck like that, began to creak open. ‘You’re not alone, Mum. You have me.’
Two tears trailed down her mother’s weathered cheeks, and Gabby’s heart shifted open even further. Without thinking, she sat down next to her, wrapped her arms around her, and hugged her.
She didn’t know how long they stayed like that. Only that at some point the hug shifted and it became her mother’s arms around Gabby’s shoulders. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.
Gabby drew back, wiping at the tears she hadn’t realised had collected in her eyes. ‘I believe you.’ She hesitated, aware there were three more words that were needed to be said, I forgive you. They bounced restlessly around her head before slinking back to where they came from. Too early. Maybe in time, if this shared moment proved to be the start of a real relationship, and not just another crushing disappointment.
Seemingly satisfied with Gabby’s response, her mum smiled. ‘Thank you. Now go and spend the rest of the Christmas holiday with that charming man of yours. I will head off home tomorrow.’
Gabby could feel her lips twitch. ‘Charming, huh?’
‘You know he is. He knows he is, too, but that doesn’t lessen the charm.’ She patted Gabby’s cheek. ‘Go.’
It took her a while to get out of the house. First she had to re-pack her case. Her eyes flew to the drawer where she kept her bikinis and she shook her head, laughing at herself even as she pulled out the red one. Ridiculous. He was turning her into a crazy woman.
A giggling, happy, crazy woman.
Next she needed to check the house was okay to be left for a few days. She was eyeing up the fridge when her mum came up behind her. ‘I’ll throw out anything that won’t keep. I’ll check the windows, turn off the switches, lock the front door. Go.’
‘Thank you.’ Breathlessly she dashed into the hall and picked up her coat. ‘Right, I’m off. Drive safely. I’ll see you next year.’
Her mum smiled, flicking her hands towards the door in a shooing away gesture. Laughing, Gabby fled the house and jumped into her car.
As she was driving she heard her phone ping with a text message. Oh God, please don’t be anything important. Taking the next turn, she pulled into a side street and dragged out her phone. A message from Owen.
Miss you already x
A huge smile bloomed across her face as Gabby turned back onto the road.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It had been a poignant end to Christmas Day. Hilda had risen to her feet the moment Owen had come back into the room after saying goodbye to Gabby. Back to her old straight-laced self, she’d thanked him formally for a very pleasant day – yes, she’d used that word – and darted off before he could ask her what was wrong.
His father had been quiet after that, leaving Owen to entertain Zoe before she lost the fight to stay awake and fell asleep with her head burrowed against his chest while they watched It’s a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie.
As he’d tucked her into bed, she’d smiled sleepily up at him. ‘Christmas Day was sick.’
‘Even though it didn’t snow?’
‘Yeah.’ Then her voice had trembled, just a little. ‘I hope Mum had a good day, too.’
He’d felt his heart squeeze. ‘I’m sure she did.’
He made a silent promise to make sure Stella knew how much her daughter had missed her. The last thing he wanted was for Zoe to grow up like Gabby, believing her mother didn’t care.
The thought of Gabby sent another band of tightness around his chest, and he fired off a quick text, telling her he was missing her.
Then he walked back downstairs, only to find his dad staring bleakly into the fire.
‘What’s wrong?’ His father grunted and the dismissal, the return to the grumpy git who’d been blissfully absent these last few days, sent anger fizzing down Owen’s spine. He decided to poke the bear.
‘Are you going to tell me why Hilda couldn’t get out of the house fast enough?’
His father glowered. ‘None of your business.’
‘She was a guest in my house. It’s very much my business.’
His father let out a long, slow breath, his shoulders sagging. ‘I told her how much I missed my wife.’
Owen frowned, confused. ‘Why on earth would you say that to a woman you know is interested in you?’
‘To put her off.’
‘Same damn question.’
His father gave him another glare. ‘Because I’ve no business looking at another woman.’
Instantly the anger vanished. ‘Dad.’ Christ, what to say? He moved to sit on the sofa, reaching across to put his hand on his dad’s knee. ‘Mum would want you to look at Hilda. She’d want you to be happy.’
‘I don’t deserve to be.’
Owen gaped at him. ‘Why on earth do you say that?’
His father lifted his eyes to Owen’s, his face lined with agony. ‘I put your mum through hell in those last few months. I don’t bloody deserve to be happy.’
Owen searched his father’s face. ‘I don’t understand. You loved Mum. You were there for her every step of the way. I know because I was there, too.’
His dad shook his head, his body slumped in the chair. ‘I shouldn’t have made her have that chemo. She didn’t want it, but I begged her. Bloody begged her.’ He inhaled a shaky breath. ‘I should have let her go the way she wanted. Peacefully. Instead I pushed her into fighting a battle she was never going to win.’ He hung his head, putting his hand over his eyes. ‘She didn’t deserve to die like she did.’
Owen’s heart crumpled. For three years his dad had been carrying this terrible burden of guilt. No wonder he’d turned into a recluse. Moving from the sofa, Owen perched on the arm of his dad’s chair and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him fiercely. ‘You loved her, Dad.’ He felt tears sting his eyes. ‘Who can blame you for wanting her to stay with you as long as possible? Certainly not me. And certainly not Mum.’
His dad’s shoulders shuddered. ‘I miss her, lad. I bloody miss her.’
‘I know.’ Owen rested his head on top of his dad’s, heart aching with their shared loss.
When he felt his father’s body stop shuddering, he eased back. ‘If she was here now, she’d tell you to stop being so daft.’
His dad’s eyes glistened with emotion. ‘You’re probably right.’
‘And then she’d tell you to get Hilda’s phone number from me, so you have it when you’re ready to call her.’
He let out a strangled laugh. ‘I’m too old for that game.’
‘You’re never too old.’ He studied his father. He was probably around twelve years older than Hilda, but in terms of attitude, they were very similar. ‘She’s had a tough life, Hilda. Carried a torch f
or a man who never really felt the same way. I reckon she deserves a bit of happiness. You both do.’ Before the emotion got the better of him again, Owen stood. ‘Right, I’m off to bed. Do you need anything before I go?’
His dad shook his head, pulling the walker frame towards him and rising stiffly to his feet. Just as Owen was about to move though, he spoke again. ‘On second thoughts, there is one thing.’ He gave Owen a small smile. ‘Hilda’s number.’
Later, as he climbed the stairs, Owen prayed that today would be a turning point for his dad. Though the loss would always be there, hopefully some of the guilt had been expunged.
And maybe a new chapter to look forward to.
The thought inevitably turned his mind back to Gabby. Was there a new chapter waiting for him, too? Or was he going to get his heart crushed again?
After getting undressed and dragging on his pj bottoms, he snatched up his phone. No message from her. Either she was still chatting to her mum, or already asleep. Or maybe she’d seen his message and chosen not to reply.
With a deep sigh, he settled into bed.
Gabby hauled her case out of the Audi’s tiny boot and strode up to the front door, heart thumping. She’d never gone to a man’s house late at night, unannounced, before now. Would he be happy to see her? Everything he’d said up to now suggested he would, but still, another knot formed in her stomach.
He’d been the one doing all the running so far though. Putting himself out there, unsure whether or not he’d be slapped down.
It was her turn to take a risk.
Heart in her mouth, she rang on the bell.
When the door opened, she almost dissolved on the spot in a puddle of hormones. Sleepy blue eyes. Messy hair. Bare feet. Pyjama bottoms riding low over his hips. No top, just a broad expanse of perfectly muscled chest.
As he took her in, the eyes went from sleepy to wide awake in a flash. From confused, to delighted. From cool blue, to blazing.
‘Gabby, hell of a surprise.’ He cleared his throat, a huge smile enveloping his face. ‘Father Christmas does exist, after all.’
Her heart jumped between her ribs. ‘Good surprise, or bad surprise?’
He chuckled, the low sound resonating through her. ‘Bloody marvellous surprise.’ Grabbing her suitcase, he tugged her inside. ‘No backing out now. Get up those stairs.’ He glanced down at the case. ‘Please tell me you packed a bikini.’
God, this man. He could make her swoon and giggle in the same breath. ‘Come upstairs with me and find out.’
She should be embarrassed, she thought a short while later as she lay on his bed in her red string bikini. But the naked desire in his eyes, the wonder on his face, only made her feel wanted.
Then he was kissing her, his lips chasing up and down her stomach, over her breasts, the heat of his mouth burning through the material. Now she didn’t just feel wanted, she felt cherished.
‘Thank you for coming back,’ he whispered hoarsely as he caught her gaze.
It was as if he knew it hadn’t been easy for her. ‘My pleasure.’
His eyes smiled back at her. ‘I plan to make it exactly that.’
And he did. With every touch of hands, every kiss, every caress, he sent her further and further into a spiral of arousal so that when he finally entered her, she was utterly lost in him.
She must have dozed off, she realised, because when she opened her eyes Owen wasn’t beside her. Just as she was starting to wonder where he’d gone, he appeared in the doorway, carrying a large tartan gift bag stuffed full with presents.
‘I know we said we’d do them tomorrow, but, well …’ He gave her a sheepish smile. ‘It is Christmas.’
She tried to smile back. Tried to ignore the return of the tension that had knotted her stomach earlier. Presents weren’t her thing, both giving and receiving. It was hard to make the right noises, to pull the right faces, when you opened things you hadn’t asked for, didn’t want and had no intention of keeping.
His face fell, his eyes locked onto hers. ‘You don’t look excited.’
‘Sorry. I get nervous about opening presents when I don’t know what they are.’
He nodded, walking into the room and dropping the gift bag in front of her on the bed. ‘You’re worried you’ll have to pretend to like what I’ve bought?’
‘Something like that.’
He climbed into the bed next to her, shaking his head. ‘You won’t have to pretend with these presents, trust me.’
She couldn’t help it. She smirked. ‘Kind of cocky, aren’t you?’
‘I prefer confident. Now open the damn things and tell me I’m wrong.’
As she stuck her hand inside the bag, the nerves settled. If she didn’t like it, she was just going to say. Serve him right for being so smug. But she found she didn’t have to pretend to like the Audi TT leather key ring, or the photo frame with a picture of her and Owen by the tree from the Christmas party.
‘I noticed your house has no photos,’ he remarked quietly. ‘You might want to replace it with one from today. Zoe captured a good one with you and your mum. I was going to print it out tomorrow morning.’
She knew he’d buy thoughtful presents. Just knew it. ‘This is perfect. But I’ll take the one of my mum, too.’
A moment later she laughed as she opened a pair of roller blades.
‘I bought Zoe a pair, too. She’s expecting you to try them out with her tomorrow.’
‘What about you?’
He flashed her a grin. ‘Don’t you worry. I’ll be coming as well. Someone has to teach the pair of you.’
There were two small presents left. He handed her one, watching her carefully as she ripped off the paper. And gasped. A stunning ruby bracelet, set in silver. ‘It’s beautiful. Truly beautiful, but it’s too much.’
Her hands shook as she lifted it out of the box. Nobody had ever bought her anything so precious. All the jewellery she possessed, and it wasn’t much, she’d bought herself.
‘It’s not enough,’ he said softly, taking it from her and clipping it onto her wrist. Before she had a chance to wonder what he meant, he handed her the final present.
Now she was really nervous, her heart a wild, beating animal in her chest. ‘I don’t need another present, Owen. You’ve given me too many already.’
‘Just open it.’
Tentatively she slipped off the wrapping, very much aware of his eyes on her. When she caught a glimpse of the contents, she burst into relieved laughter. A tube of Love Hearts sweets. Now that she could handle. ‘Is this because you don’t think I’m sweet enough?’
He smiled, but it wasn’t the usual easy curve of his lips. In fact he looked a little … tense? ‘Open them up and let’s have one.’
She ripped open the pack and read the first one. I love you. Okay then. Laughing nervously, she offered it to him but he shook his head. ‘You have it.’
After popping it into her mouth she looked down at the next. I love you. Swallowing, she glanced back up at him. ‘Are they all going to say that?’
‘Yes.’ As panic shot through her he cupped her face, looking straight into her eyes. ‘I know you’re not ready to hear it, but it’s a fact and it’s important to me that you know it.’
‘I … don’t know what to say.’ Her eyes were a messy fog of tears and she felt she was drowning in emotion. How could he love her? She was closed off, emotionally stunted. People didn’t love her. They liked her, sure, but nobody had ever loved her.
His thumb brushed her cheek, his eloquent eyes betraying his disappointment before he masked it with a smile. ‘You say thank you for all my presents, Owen. And then you give me mine.’
Her laugh sounded weird, possibly because she was moments away from crying. ‘Thank you for my presents, Owen,’ she repeated back before bringing his hand to her lips so she could kiss it. ‘And I really mean that.’ After blinking to clear the welling tears she hopped off the bed and dug into her case. Crazy butterflies buzzed in her stomach as sh
e handed him a present and an envelope. ‘Here you go.’
He rubbed his hands together, which made the nervous fluttering worse. ‘Please don’t get excited. If there’s one thing worse than pretending to like a present you receive, it’s watching someone else pretend to like something you’ve given them.’
Owen started to laugh. ‘Gabby Sanderson, will you stop sucking all the fun out of present giving?’ He must have seen something cross her face because amusement left his eyes and understanding took its place. ‘You’ve not bought Christmas presents very often, have you?’
Embarrassed, she looked away. ‘Not for people who mean something to me, no.’ And how sad was that? She used to buy the Lancaster Ladettes gifts, but then they’d moved away. She’d bought her mother gifts, but sometimes she’d not come home to open them. She’d not been with a man long enough to buy him anything other than a drink.
His face softened. ‘Then I feel very honoured. Now, what have we here.’ With rigorous movements he tore into the wrapping, balling it up and flinging it across the room. ‘A jumper. Very snazzy.’
‘I thought the colour would match your eyes.’ Oh God, Gabby, shut up.
He smirked. ‘Is that your way of saying you’ve become a fan of blue eyes?’
‘They’re not bad.’ Butterflies swarming, she nodded to the envelope. ‘That’s your other present.’
He ripped it open. ‘Two nights in The Old Mill Hotel.’ His gaze flicked to her, and back again to the booking confirmation. ‘You’ve booked us a New Year stay in a hotel in the Lake District?’
‘You told me Stella was picking Zoe up on the thirty-first, but I’m not sure whether your dad will be well enough to go home by then. We don’t have to go,’ she added, knowing she was waffling but too scared to stop talking because when she did, she’d know his reaction. ‘It’s my friend Faith who owns it and I’m sure she won’t charge me a cancellation fee—’
‘Gabby.’ He shook his head, carefully placing the booking sheet on his bedside table. ‘Are you going to shut up for a minute?’
A Little Christmas Charm Page 19