Page 22 of Not My Little Drummer Boy
“Hi, Haley, come in,” he says, throwing the door open, arm wide as if to say ‘nothing to see here’. “We were just—”
“We were just talking about…strategy for the competition.” I leap in, not trusting Teddy’s ability to think on his feet as much as my own. After all, I’m damn good at winning over judges and juries. However, the sceptical look on Haley’s face suggests this isn’t the most persuasive of arguments.
“Well, I hope you got what you needed out of your ‘talk’.” She adds judgmental air quotes around the word talk. Yeah, no way Haley believes we were just talking. Now I’m the one going to be getting a talk later on—from her, telling me again why Teddy is the last thing I need. And how am I going to tell her she’s wrong?
The more I think about it, Teddy is exactly what I need. A feelings-free fling with a definite end date. No expectations on my part, no promises on his. He’s been a decent listener—he gets what I’ve been through—and he can see I’m a bit wobbly; that’s all he needs to know for now. No more heart-to-hearts, just no-strings fun. With Teddy’s reputation, I’m confident he won’t want anything more either. And I don’t need my friends telling me otherwise; with any luck, wedding prep will keep Haley too busy to corner me for a lecture.
We trail her back into the lounge like two naughty kids who’ve been caught taking a sneaky peek at the Christmas presents. Luckily, the rest of them have pounced on the enormous platters of food now taking up most of the space on the table. We grab a plate each andblend into the circle. My head is still spinning a little. I’m not sure whether it’s the cocktails or the circling butterflies in my stomach when Teddy leans in across me, brushing a whisper against my neck.
“Eat up. Pays to keep your strength up. You never know what you might need it for.”
I shiver at the suggestion.
Between the main course and dessert, Loreena takes the floor, banging on a glass to quieten us all down. She motions to her husband, who is balancing a large chalkboard almost as big as he is. On cue, Tommy flips it around. Our names take pride of place at the top.
“Congratulations, Rachel and Teddy. Top of the scoreboard.” I’m proud of the 166 scrawled there beside our names; our nearest rivals, Ollie and Sam, on 153. “The weather’s looking good for tomorrow. Perfect for the next challenge. But what that is can wait till morning. Now please, enjoy dessert. Tommy’s made Eton mess and tiramisu.”
I don’t hold back, first to dive in with an enormous silver scalloped spoon. Dessert is my favourite, and damn it, I’ve earned it today.
I take my heaped plate to a small loveseat by the fire, balancing it on my knee. Teddy notices and begins to walk my way, but before he can claim the space, Haley’s there. He moves to hover on the other side of the hearth, his brown eyes watching.
“You would tell me if Teddy’s coming on too strong.” She says it under her breath, aware of his nearness. Her dark brows crease in concern. “We could swap you and Sam over in the wedding party. You pair up with Ollie.”
“I’m not sure Sam and Ollie would like that.” Those two fight like cat and dog. They always have—right from when they were kids, apparently—but it’s definitely a frenemies vibe. They like it that way, and I can’t imagine them accepting her separating them. Especially if it means having to work with their closest rivals in the competition.
Haley’s frown deepens as she looks over at Sam perched on Ollie’s knee, feeding a spoonful of cream and crumbled meringue into his mouth. He opens wide like a baby bird, their eyes locked together. Haley’s worried about me and Teddy, but I have a feeling she’s also looking closer to home. With that display, I think she should.
“Look, it’s all good. I can handle Teddy.” In fact, I was handling him quite well earlier, but I won’t tell her that.
“No, I know you can. But I just wondered…if it was wise to put you with him when you’re still…”
“Still what?”
“Vulnerable.”
I force out a laugh. “Me? No. I’m fine. Honestly. Would I like to rub Pierre’s nose in it with a new boyfriend? Of course. Am I lining up Teddy to be that boyfriend? No. I’m not daft enough to think he’s anything more than a bit of fun.”
I glance up and catch Teddy’s gaze. The earlier warmth has flattened into something polite, a stiffness in his smile. Shit. What if he overheard? No—he couldn’t have. The room’s too loud, and Garrett’s in his ear. He turns away, shoulders tight, reaching for his drink with too-casual precision. Maybe he’s just tired. Or I’m reading too much into it. He takes a sip and, when the glass lowers, his mouth slides back into the usual Teddy smile. The flicker of unease ebbs. He didn’t hear. We’re fine.
Chapter 8
“Holditstill,”Iyell down at Rachel from my perch on the top of the wonky ladder. The cobbled courtyard of the stable block looks unforgiving from this distance; one slip and I’d break my bloody neck.
“Iamholding it still,” she calls back, her eyes focused on her phone screen, not my safety.
“Tell me again why you chose to decorate the stable block?” As winners of the first challenge, we got first pick of location for this Christmas lighting round. We could have had something easy—like the front door or a ground-floor window—but no, I let Rachel decide, and now I’m up here.
“Because my idea is bloody brilliant,” she says, still scrolling. “You’ll thank me later when we win.”
I’m still trying to work out how I—the one who confessed straight up I’m shit-scared of heights—ended up attempting to weave a star shape from a tangled strand of Christmas lights at barn-roof level.
Meanwhile, Rachel pretends to steady the ladder with one hand while pissing about on her phone with the other.
This isn’t how I’d choose to spend my Sunday, though the longer this stupid challenge drags on, the more time I get to spend with her. If I die in the process, at least it’ll be for a few extra hours in her company.
Rachel’s phone screen lights up as the sound of “500 Miles” pours from it.
“Fuck!” I gasp when she takes her hand off the ladder and it wobbles precariously. I drop the strand of lights clutched in one hand, and the cable ties in the other. They shower down on her like snowflakes. My bellow echoes round the stable yard, bouncing off the stone walls.
