Page 27 of Not My Little Drummer Boy
The precision of the perfectly symmetrical Christmas tree silhouette in their window shows Garrett’s engineering background, each light positioned with mathematical accuracy. Right now, I think he’s wasted playing bass guitar in a rock band. Warm white lights outline the tree, with tiny blue stars scattered throughout like ornaments, creating an elegant, understated display that somehow captures the essence of the season better than the other two garish alternatives. This is the one to beat.
“Damn,” Rachel whispers against my ear. “That’s amazing.”
“Ours is amazing, too.” I breathe the words against her neck, enjoying the warm echo of my breath and the smell of her perfume,the heady scent of flowers overlaid with spice. “The star is way more tasteful. I’m glad we didn’t grab all those psychedelic lights like the others. So predictable.”
“Yeah, I suppose. But we’re not the judges.”
Her words act as a summoning spell. Tommy and Loreena stand at the top of the stairs, the unlikely lord and lady of the manor in jeans and puffer jackets, with beanies pulled down low.
“In you go,” Loreena commands. “Give the judges some peace and quiet for their deliberations.”
“Hot chocolate’s made,” a voice calls from behind. It’s Raymond, a burly, bald-headed guy who I can’t quite figure out. He seems to do lots of different things: in charge of the security cameras, screens people arriving at the gatehouse through the intercom, and oversees the rest of the staff. He’s an odd butler in his uniform of black jeans, Sex Pistols t-shirt and leather bomber jacket. Now he makes hot chocolate too.
“Come on.” I tug Rachel towards the door. “Nothing we can do about it now we’ve downed tools.”
“I know, but I really want us to win.” She reminds me of Elodie, a petulant child expecting the adult to make her wish come true.
“I do too.” I press a sneaky consoling kiss to her cheek, knowing I’ve done all I can to give her the win.
Chapter 9
Ikeepmydistancefrom Teddy during dinner in the casual dining room. It’s not because the sight of him scoffing pizza slathered in pineapple with the rest of the guys turns my stomach. It’s a crime for sure, but not one I’d see him banished for.
The reason I’m perched strategically between Haley and Sam at the far end of the rustic farmhouse table is so they get a front-row seat for my Oscar-winning performance.
Haley’s stare while we stood outside inspecting the lighting displays made me shuffle inside my bulky jacket. It tells me I need to up my game of feigned disinterest in Teddy whenever she’s around. I shouldn’t have let him hold my hand, but it was fucking cold out there once the sun went down, and his warm fingers gently squeezing mine drove the chill away while sending pulsing reminders of his kiss minutes before. The memory of his lips on mine sends tendrils of heat curling through my body even now. And I’d definitely like to feel those hands on other parts of me, but it’s hands off when we’re in company.
“So…” Haley tears off three corners of pizza and feeds them to the dogs lying watchfully at her feet. They take them with dainty teeth and inhale. I wait. I know only too well what Haley’s ‘So’ means. She wants to ask a question but hates to pry, so she always masks it as a statement.
“You and Teddy seem to be working well together.” Her eyebrow arches in a way that suggests she’s fishing for more than updates on the challenges.
“Yeah. Teddy and I get on fine. Mainly because he does what I bloody well tell him to.”
Sam lets out a huff and leans across me. “Maybe he could teach Ollie a thing or two. I know he’s your brother, Haley, but god, that man could frustrate a saint.”
Haley waves Sam off without breaking eye contact with me. She’s wearing the same expression she used to get whenever I’d insist Pierre and I were “totally fine”. She could see straight through my bullshit.
“So, what exactly have you been telling Teddy to do?”
That knowing little smirk gives her game away: she’s trying to lure me into a girly tell-all session. Hoping I’ll spill all over pizza and wine. No chance of that happening. I chew my mouthful of pizza with deliberate slowness, buying myself time to think.
The truth is, I’ve built walls around my feelings lately—thick ones. I’mnot ready to let my friends peek behind them when I’m still figuring things out myself. Because yes, I’m attracted to Teddy—and hell, who wouldn’t be with those luscious copper-penny locks and soulful brown eyes—but also, I actually really like him.
Because of that, he’s the perfect antidote to the shit-show my life has been this last couple of months. Sure, I could have gone back to my old stomping grounds and my old pre-Pierrehabits. Hit the clubs, find someone attractive and anonymous, fuck the hurt right out of my system. But something’s shifted in me. I want to lose myself in the physical release of some great sex, but the thought of hooking up with a stranger leaves me cold.
Maybe Pierre broke something in me, or maybe he fixed something. Either way, if I’m going to lose myself in a guy, I want it to matter at least a little bit. I want to know more than just his name. I want to know outside of the bedroom he’s not some total arsehole. I want to like him.
Teddy checks every box. He’s not hustling me into bed as his reputation suggested he might, but the chemistry between us is undeniable, the outcome inevitable. I can already see Haley’s mouth pinch and hear Sam’s ‘are you sure?’ voice. They’re on full alert for anything or anyone who might hurt me, but I don’t need them to stage an intervention. I’m sealing this in a compartment: fling, finite, feelings not included. If I keep the lid on, my heart stays safe.
“Well, he’s the one who went up the ladder this afternoon.” I take another bite, keeping my tone light. “And when Solly picked up a stone in his hoof this morning, Teddy dug it out without being asked.”
The memory makes me smile despite myself. Pierre would have wrinkled his nose and looked around for someone else to handle anything involving smelly horses’ hooves. Teddy just pulled out this little multi-tool and went to work like it was nothing.
“Plus, he’s fetching drinks right now, so…”
Like magic, Teddy appears with a bottle of red wine, that easy smile already in place. Something about the way his eyes find mine first makes my stomach flip.
“Refill?” He’s already reaching for my glass.
