Page 29 of The Village Christmas Party

‘I am so sorry.’

Hot shop guy is striding towards me, holding his hands up and at least having the decency to look genuinely sorry.

‘Really? You’re not just getting me back for soaking you in Prosecco.’ I make a vain attempt to dab at my trousers with my scarf that I have unwound from around my neck.

‘I’d like to think I’m not that childish,’ he says in that annoyingly lovely Irish accent. ‘Look, let me give you a lift, you can at least warm up for a minute in the car.’ At least he has the decency to look a little contrite. ‘I have heated car seats,’ he adds.

‘Is that a chat-up line?’ I ask, annoyed and already beginning to shiver but as it’s freezing and I don’t fancy walking home soaked through, I reluctantly accept his offer.

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ he says with a laugh, before straightening his smile when I don’t return it.

‘And, actually, I was on my way to the shop,’ I tell him. ‘I am out of milk.’

‘Then take a seat, I insist. I will nip into the shop and get your milk for you,’ he says, fixing me with those eyes that are large and green, framed with dark lashes that any girl would envy.

‘Oh, and I’m Kian, by the way,’ he says when I am seated in his passenger seat. ‘Just so you’re not accepting a lift from a stranger.’ He grins.

‘Lauren,’ I tell him.

‘Pleased to meet you, Lauren, officially that is. After I get your milk, I will drop you home. How’s that?’ He smiles warmly.

I suddenly wonder whether I ought to let this guy know where I live. I don’t really know him after all. Should I even be sitting in his car, even though I now know his name? Then again, I have seen him about town, I guess, and Jo has his details from when he booked the gingerbread evening. I tap out a quick text to Gemma to tell her who I am with all the same, in case I go missing. Maybe I should have hopped in my car, instead of walking here.

‘Are you sure I am not keeping you from being somewhere?’ I ask Kian as the warm air from the car heater washes over me.

‘No, I’ve finished what I needed to do. I went into town to sort out a few birthday balloons. It’s my daughter’s birthday on Christmas Eve,’ he tells me.

‘The little girl you were with at the gingerbread evening?’

‘Yes, her name’s Bella,’ he says, smiling proudly.

‘She’s super cute,’ I say, recalling the little girl, and the excited look on her face when she won a prize.

‘She is adorable, although I may be biased. She’s really looking forward to her party,’ he tells me.

‘That’s nice. Ooh, that’s really nice,’ I say as he gives me a puzzled look.

‘The warm seat, I mean,’ I say as I feel the warmth flood through my body. ‘I could sit here for ages.’

‘Be my guest.’ He grins. ‘You can give me a shopping list of things to buy if you like, although I’m sure you want to get out of those wet clothes,’ he says, looking directly at me and I feel my cheeks flush.

‘Of course I do, but I am warming up quickly,’ I say, avoiding his gaze and wishing my car had such a feature.

Pulling up outside the shop, I reach for some pound coins in my pocket for the milk, rather than handing over my bank card.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ says Kian, smiling. He has nice teeth I notice. ‘It’s the least I can do after soaking you.’

‘So, it’s your daughter’s birthday Christmas Eve? I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, being so close to Christmas,’ I tell him, when he returns with the milk, and two large chocolate chip cookies.

‘They were discounted at the counter,’ he explains and I wonder why he has bought two. Surely he isn’t expecting me to invite him in for coffee? But then, the other one is probably for his daughter.

‘I guess, that’s why I try to make it a bit special,’ he explains. ‘She is spending Christmas with me this year.’

I’m about to mention that I saw him near the community centre earlier, when a teenager walks into the road without even looking up from his phone.

‘Are you trying to get yourself killed?’ He winds the window down and calls to the startled teenager, after braking suddenly. The young man sheepishly raises a hand and mouths sorry, before darting onto the pavement.

‘Jeez. What’s the world coming to?’ He shakes his head. ‘Some people need their phones surgically removing from their hands.’

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