Page 43 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets
‘Yeah, about that.’ Imogen threw out a grin. ‘Before I open the bottle, let me show you to your room.’
Room? Erin subdued a moment of alarm. She hadn’t known exactly what to expect but the house was tiny, much smaller than she’d imagined. Surely, though, there were more than two bedrooms? They followed Imogen upstairs and she opened one of only three doors on the landing.
‘You two are sharing,’ she said bluntly. Erin caught Oli’s eye. He appeared as startled as she did, and his gaze slid to his sister as Imogen carried on. ‘The bathroom’s between your room and ours.’
‘Imogen…’
‘What?’ She jammed her hands on her hips and glared at him. ‘Don’t even think it, that sofa is velvet, and you are not spending the night on it. You two just need to get on with it or get over it, you decide which. Come down when you’re ready but don’t leave it too long.’
She backed away and running footsteps on the stairs disappeared. Erin took a hesitant couple of steps into their room. It was just as beautiful as the rest of the house: white walls offset by pale grey furniture, a narrow mirror above each of the bedside tables, and wardrobe space that was a rail with hangers. A wraparound suede headboard made the bed look very inviting.
‘It’s not much bigger than your spare room.’ Oli grinned and she laughed nervously.
‘No. But I bet the bed’s a lot comfier.’ And a double, at least.
‘It’ll be fine, I’ll sleep on the floor,’ he said decisively.
‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Her laugh this time was more of a protest. ‘There wouldn’t be enough room for that if you slept bent double. I’ll do it, I’m smaller than you.’
‘If you think I’m letting you sleep on the floor whilst I take the bed then you’re crazy.’ Oli fixed her with a look and she made herself hold it, trying not to turn away from the determination in his gaze.
‘So we have to share then.’ Erin attempted to land her thoughts on staying professional but even that didn’t work as well as it usually did. She was thinking instead about what it would be like to fall asleep beside him, to wake up together in the morning and see him smiling across at her. And about how she was going to make herself maintain the distance they needed to keep as colleagues.
‘I guess.’ He was at the window overlooking the courtyard, and he turned. ‘It’s only for one night and we won’t be back from the party until late. We’ll both be ready to crash by then, we’ll probably fall asleep the minute our heads hit the pillows.’
‘Absolutely.’ She edged towards the door. ‘So shall we get that drink then?’
Oli nodded and they returned to the sitting room. Alex came home while Imogen was opening the wine, and she made the introductions. He and Oli shared a hug, his dark hair and olive skin a contrast to Oli’s auburn colouring, and he hugged Erin too, telling them how happy he and Imogen were that they’d come all this way to celebrate with them.
One bottle of bubbly turned into two and when it was time to change for the party, Oli went up first so Erin could have a little more time and the room to herself. She was in the bathroom freshening up when she heard him go down and she closed the door to their room once inside, nerves fluttering in her stomach as she unpacked. She sat on the bed to do her make-up, trying to recall the instructions about blusher Jess had imparted earlier in the week. Erin didn’t often wear make-up; there seemed little point when she was battered by the elements outdoors most days. She was happy with the results and the slightly different face staring back at her in the mirror when she’d finished, hair fastened into a knot at the nape of her neck. At least she’d found the time to have her nails done.
The taxi was due in half an hour and Imogen wanted them to be ready fifteen minutes before so they could take a few selfies. Erin had found her dress online during the week and had sent a link to Jess for her opinion before she clicked ‘buy’ in case her friend thought it wouldn’t suit her. But Jess had loved it as much as Erin did, and bluntly informed her to buy it or else.
She’d never worn anything so elegant or dramatic in her life and the navy silk felt amazing when she stepped into the dress. The skirt fell to her ankles and the split to her left thigh was evident every time she moved, the silk sighing against her bare skin. A cowl neckline was just high enough and spaghetti straps on her back crossed to fasten in corset style, which she’d found very tricky to tie just above her waist. She quashed a flare of panic that perhaps her outfit was too dressy. But she knew Oli was wearing black tie as it was a formal event, and hoped very much the dress would do.
Black ankle-strap heels were unfamiliar as she descended the stairs, and the second Oli’s astounded gaze landed on her Erin knew she’d got it exactly right. She couldn’t help but think of Catz and the May Ball, and the missed opportunity to be his date that night. To be on his arm and wear a dress like this, to have him look at her in exactly the way he was doing now. She didn’t need him to utter a word to let her know what he thought, every single syllable was written in his eyes.
‘Erin, your dress! I adore it.’ Imogen’s colouring was perfectly complimented by a strapless green grown with a fitted bodice and flared skirt. ‘Oli, doesn’t Erin look stunning?’
‘You do. You look perfect.’ His quiet murmur was for Erin alone and for once she wasn’t going to subdue the butterflies dancing in her stomach or the faint flush on her skin. She felt amazing and his hand on her back, as Imogen assembled them for the selfies, felt like a promise for the evening ahead. She wasn’t going to think of having to share a bed with him and pretend it was fine, before tomorrow arrived and they returned to their normal lives. This evening she was his date, and she wanted to hold on to every single second of the next few hours together.
Chapter Seventeen
The taxi journey took twenty minutes, and the car was soon sweeping up a long driveway, pulling up outside an historic house built of ancient golden stone. Erin was aware of Oli’s tension in the set of his face when they followed Imogen and Alex out of the vehicle, hanging back so the newly engaged couple could enter first, some guests and a photographer waiting to greet them.
Oli caught her eye in the light of a large pair of illuminated Christmas trees outside the entrance. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he told her softly. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone else.’
‘You numpty,’ she told him sternly, emphasising her Yorkshire accent on purpose. He laughed, as she’d meant him to. He hadn’t even touched her and still those few words felt like a caress. She shivered, her only smart winter coat and the silk dress unequal to the chill winter night, and it felt perfectly natural when he took her hand.
Once inside the hotel another Christmas tree was cheerful, shimmering in shades of gold and silver in a low-beamed reception area. Erin slipped off her coat, aware of Oli watching, as she left it in the cloakroom. They accepted glasses of honey-coloured champagne and followed more guests into a marquee at the rear of the building. The air was scented with spices, huge church candles on the tables surrounded by evergreen wreaths. She was clinging to his hand as though they really were a couple, and she wasn’t just an old friend here to support him. Imogen and Alex had already been swallowed up by guests eager to congratulate them and admire the exquisite diamond ring glittering on her hand.
Hundreds of white fairy lights shone from the ceiling, reflected in the scarlet baubles at every place setting. Staff were mingling, offering canapés and more champagne. Erin hadn’t quite finished the first glass yet and she drank it quickly, the fizz hitting her bloodstream as she and Oli accepted another. A string quartet on a low stage was playing classical Christmas carols, a wooden floor ready for the DJ and dancing to follow. But first there was the formal dinner, and they saw from the seating plan they were sharing a table with some of Imogen and Alex’s friends.
Erin’s gaze was darting over the guests, and it came to rest on an older man sitting at a table; she knew he must be Oli’s dad. It wasn’t just the similarities in height or the breadth of shoulder – there was something watchful in his gaze that reminded her of Oli. Oli’s fingers tightened around hers and she squeezed back, letting him know she would be alongside him if he wanted her there.
‘It’s much easier to see your eyes when you’re wearing heels,’ he murmured. ‘They look more golden in this light.’
‘Don’t get used to it, these shoes are strictly a one-off,’ she warned, smiling up at him. ‘I’ll be back in my boots on Monday.’
