Page 63 of The Best Little Christmas Shop
Chapter Thirteen
I craned my neck around Cal. Where the heck was our food? I desperately needed a distraction from those eyes and that body. I could see him looking at me as I kept my eyes on my wine glass. He knew I wasn’t as calm as I looked. Which in truth probably wasn’t very. He knew something was up, and somehow he also knew that trying to force it out of me was probably the worsething he could do. I’d dated Marco for well over a year and he never did figure that out.
‘So, this car of yours we were talking about? Have you had a chance to do much work on it since you’ve been home?’
I shook my head, the relief of being back on a topic I was comfortable with obviously showing on my face, if the twitch of Cal’s dark brow was anything to go by.
‘No, unfortunately. Betweenhelping out with the festival stuff, plus the upsurge in orders we’ve had since the shop got featured in that glossy mag, there just hasn’t been the time. It’s kind of crazy how much influence these things can have, isn’t it?’
He nodded as he took a sip from his mineral water.
‘When I have had the chance to do a bit, it’s been so damn cold in the barn. Like you said the other night, I’ve gonesoft too.’
‘I don’t think anyone could accuse you of being soft, Lexi.’
I swallowed, accepting that. It was after all the face I’d been putting out to the world for most of my life. Acting like nothing bothered me. Only my family and close friends knew the truth.
‘Although I’m pretty sure that’s all a front. I don’t think anyone who’s as tough as you like to try and make out goes around mendingteddy bears and taking care of people the way you do.’
‘That’s just being a nice person.’
‘No, I think it’s being a softie.’
My mouth made an “o” shape. ‘Don’t you dare go spreading rumours like that about me!’
He laughed and I felt it wrap itself around me, warm and comforting, just like the scarf I’d tied on George’s Bear the first time I’d met them.
‘What rumour? That you’re a marshmallowinside?’ His mouth was serious but there was humour in the eyes. That and a shadow of wariness.
‘Anyway, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to finish getting it ready to take Dad out in as a surprise at Christmas like I planned. I might have to think of something else and make that a birthday present.’ Although I knew that once I took this job, getting home was going to go back to being much moreinfrequent. It was easier to rent a flat nearer the factory so living at home, or even somewhere in the village, was going to involve a killer of a commute. Plus the travel abroad once the season kicked in. ‘To be honest, I might have to look into paying someone to do it. At least then Dad could take it out for me occasionally, get some use out of it instead of it sitting there looking sad andunloved.’
‘We could take it over to my workshop? I’ve just shipped out an order so I’ve got some space at the moment. It’s warm and dry and you can come and do stuff on it as and when you get the time. But if you’re OK with it, I can get the guys to do a bit of work on it too so that you meet your Christmas deadline.’
‘Oh, Cal, that’s really lovely of you. But I couldn’t ask –’
‘You didn’task,’ he pointed out. ‘I offered.’
‘Yes, but …’ It was a brilliant offer and really would help. But I didn’t feel right accepting it. I’d already got to know Cal’s generous nature first hand, and from what my family and friends had told me. I knew he’d end up doing a lot more than just provide a warm space to work. But Dad would be so thrilled to see his car restored back to glory again …
‘Whateverit is you’re thinking, don’t. There’s no caveat. I’m not expecting anything. It’s just a favour, and frankly, it hurts me to see that poor old thing sat there when it could be a real beauty.’
‘I know. It’s sad.’
‘Good. That’s decided then. I can send the truck over tomorrow. Do you want your dad to not know it’s happening? If so, just let me know when’s a good time.’
Oh God. He was so nice.What was I doing? I nodded, trying to keep the smile on my face but having the distinct feeling it was slipping. Cal’s eyes registered it all and I could see my own confusion reflected back at me.
‘Cal, I –’
With perfect timing, our food arrived, looking delicious, and the needs of my stomach overtook everything else. Some people couldn’t eat when they were nervous but not me. It could havebeen a hangover of my mum being the greatest at providing comforting, delicious food at such times. We’d all come home at various times, having fallen out with friends, broken up with girlfriends or boyfriends (although the latter, bearing in mind it was only me, was definitely more rare). Mum had always been there with a warming stew, and hunks of homemade bread, the smells encompassing us and thewhole experience as much of a comforting hug as the ones Mum and Dad both gave us.
The food this evening was great – the local chef had been the recipient of several awards – but Mum’s comforting kitchen was hard to beat. Although, I had a feeling I might be taking advantage of that enough in the coming days.
Over dinner, the conversation turned to lighter subjects and I went between feelingrelieved that I was getting to spend more time with Cal, and just wanting to get the conversation I knew I needed to have with him over and done with. It had been a long time since I’d felt so comfortable with a man like this, a man who actually remembered I was a woman, and certainly made me feel like one in a whole bunch of different ways.
And of course, there was little George. Family hadalways been important to me. Coming home had reminded just how much, and now here was this big, gorgeous man apparently willing to consider letting me be a part of his ready-made one. But the problem was that, from what he’d said the other night, there was every chance he might want more than that. More than I might ever be able to give him.
We’d had our desserts and now sat savouring the rich,dark coffee.
