Page 100 of The Best Little Christmas Shop
Chapter Nineteen
‘Lexi!’ George’s excited call shot a current of happiness through me, the strength of it surprising me.
I turned from where I’d been arranging cuddly turkeys wearing Santa hats on a shelf. Bit odd, I know, but they’d been a surprisingly good seller. George thumped into me and cuddled my thighs.
I tried to keep the sadness out of my smile as I stroked the top of his head,his hair fine and silky under my fingers. Cal hadn’t been in the shop for a couple of days. I knew he’d been working on the Festival floats and the shop was humming with business but it didn’t matter. Every day I didn’t see George and Cal felt like for ever. But it would get better, I told myself. For all of us.
‘I’m sure you’ve been super busy getting ready for Christmas, just like Father Christmas.Although –’ I looked down and met George’s wide and curious stare ‘– I think you’re a tiny bit too small to be Father Christmas. So, I’m thinking you must be an elf.’
George giggled and let go of my legs. ‘I’m not an elf. I’m George.’
‘Yes. An elf called George.’
I tickled him and he giggled more. ‘I’m not an elf; I’m a boy! Daddy! Tell Lexi I’m a boy not an elf,’ he called out, wriggling andgiggling in my arms.
I looked up. The door had been chiming merrily away all morning. The shop had been so busy in the past few weeks that the bell had become merely background noise and I’d stopped taking much notice of it. Apparently, this time I should have. I’d thought George was over playing with Harry this morning and had been expecting my sister-in-law to be with him but instead Cal Martinwas standing there, looking as gorgeous – and as far out of my reach – as ever.
‘Sorry, George, you had to find out sometime.’ He scooped his son up and balanced him on his hip, ‘I was out watching Father Christmas delivering presents to all the good little girls and boys one Christmas Eve and I saw this tiny elf tumbling down, having fallen off the sleigh. So, I quickly ran and caught him. Andthere you were!’
George studied his father’s calm, serious face for a couple of seconds. And then he burst out laughing. ‘Daddy! That’s not true!’
‘It’s not?’ Cal replied, a look of extreme surprise on his face.
‘No!’ His son giggled.
‘Oh. Then I suppose you really must be a little boy then.’
‘I am!’ he said, flinging his arms around Cal’s neck. ‘I’m your little boy!’
Cal wrapped his armaround his son, placing one large hand on his back. ‘Yes, you are.’
Remembering that the turkeys I’d been displaying were suddenly in dire need of attention, I turned away from the happy scene and fiddled about with them, moving one then putting it back and basically just faffing, keeping my face away from the familial tableau behind me. It was easier that way.
‘Lexi, am I allowed to play onthe rocking horse?’
‘Of course, sweetie,’ I said, keeping my attention on the long-completed task in front of me. Little feet took off running across the floorboards. I hadn’t heard Cal leave and by the way my neck was tingling, I was pretty sure he was standing right behind me.
‘How are you?’ His words were soft but guarded.
‘Good, thanks,’ I lied. ‘You?’
I heard him shift his weight. ‘Unlessyou’re going to start stuffing those things, I think that display is pretty much perfect.’
Busted.
I gave a turkey one last prod and faced Cal. I didn’t have to ask him how he’d been. His face told me everything I needed to know. Shadows lurked under his eyes and he was about three days late for a shave. His gaze fixed on me, and like it had the first time I’d met him, it made everything aroundme fade into the distance.
‘I had a visit from your mum after Joe’s party,’ he said, the softest of smiles hovering on his lips.
‘Oh?’
The smile widened a little. ‘You’re probably about the worst liar I’ve ever met.’
I let my gaze drift back to the turkeys.
‘If you start fiddling with them again, I’m going to buy them all just so you have to look at me.’
He laughed when I pulled a face,as if considering the economic side of that option, and a little of the ice that was between us cracked.
