Page 78 of The Cornish Christmas Book Clu
‘Don’t be daft. I’m stubborn, that’s all, and don’t like to be told I can’t do something.’
‘Do you think we should aim for a similar turnout next year?’
She met his glittering dark-blue eyes and nodded. The promise of more Christmases together was the only gift she needed today.
* * *
‘To us.’ Gage clinked his champagne glass against Tamara’s and revelled in her glorious smile.
They’d been exhausted by the time the bookshop had been shipshape again, and although the nap they’d decided to take should’ve helped, had they napped? Had they hell. Not that he was complaining. He’d celebrated the festive season in many parts of the world and in a variety of ways, but none equalled today. To be with this special woman and surrounded by family and friends, in a community that had embraced him and his new venture, was perfect.
‘Are you ready for your proper present now?’
‘You mean my piggy lingerie was improper?’
‘Absolutely.’ He chuckled. ‘Fetch the pink envelope from under the tree, then snuggle back here with me and open it.’
Gage studied her face as she pulled out the card inside and read it once, then read it again.
‘You sneaky thing. This is awesome.’ Her face glowed. ‘I’ve always wanted to see the Griselda Hill pottery in Ceres where they make the Wemyss pigs.’
‘And while we’re there, you get to choose a personalised commission that they’ll make specially for you.’
She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth. ‘You are absolutely the best.’
‘I picked those dates in late June for our trip because they coincide with the Ceres Highland Games. They’re the oldest in Scotland, according to my research. Our hotel is only about an hour or so from Edinburgh, so I thought we could visit my dad as well while we’re that close.’
‘I’d love to.’ A tiny frown marred her smile. ‘But what about the shop and café?’
‘All organised,’ he said boastfully. ‘Melissa and Emily volunteered to run the shop, and Becky’s excited about taking on the café. I’m sure they’ll have help from our other friends too.’
‘You’ve been plotting behind my back.’ She sounded anything but cross. ‘It’s your turn now.’ Pink blotches flared on her skin. ‘We must be more alike than we realised because I’ve gone down the same road with your gift.’ Tamara whipped out a gold envelope from behind her back. ‘It’s not for the two of us, but you’ll understand why when you take a look. You’re not the only one who pays attention.’
A minute later, Gage held two tickets in his hand and couldn’t stop smiling.
‘Taff’s going with you.’
She’d arranged for them to join a four-day tour of the Normandy beaches with a group of military-history buffs. Anything connected to the D-Day landings, and particularly the important role played by the Royal Marines, was a long-time obsession of his. The opportunity to follow in their footsteps was a dream come true.
‘I won’t ask how you’ll run the shop as well as the café in my absence because I’m sure you’ve got that sewn up.’
‘I might have.’ A teasing smirk pulled at her lush mouth. ‘I’d say we know each other pretty well, considering the short time we’ve been together.’
‘Yep, we’ve got this.’ It hovered on the edge of his consciousness to say more.
‘You must be starved. I know I am.’ With a bright smile, she sprang off him. ‘We passed on food earlier for excellent reasons, but I need something to soak up all this champagne. I was far too busy to eat a lot at lunchtime and I doubt you had much either.’
He squashed a flare of disappointment. Maybe she’d saved him from making a fool of himself.
‘And since then your thoughtless boyfriend has kept you otherwise occupied.’
‘Not thoughtless at all. He’s my super-sexy, favourite hunk.’
Gage wasn’t arguing. He’d take whatever compliments she threw his way and be grateful. Very grateful. ‘Let’s go fix some snacks.’
Tamara popped a couple of baking trays in the oven, loaded with miniature spring rolls, tiny pork pies and chipolata sausages. Following her instructions he put together a platter of cheeses, cold meats and pickles, along with crackers and grapes. It was the kind of thing he would’ve made himself as a single guy when he couldn’t be arsed to cook. But according to her, variations on this were incredibly popular these days and laughingly called charcuterie boards. Tamara started fixing the slightly retro prawn cocktails they both had a weakness for in two antique, blue glass goblets she’d picked up at a flea market.
‘Is there any chance Sandy might come out to play later?’ he asked.
