Snowflakes on Silver Cove: A festive, feel-good Christmas romance (White Cliff Bay Book 2)

by Holly Martin

  ‘And you might, if the date gets as far as your bedroom, want to remove Candy.’ She gestured at the mannequin in the corner. ‘She’s a bit freaky.’

  ‘I can’t get rid of Candy,’ he protested, slinging a protective arm round the mannequin’s shoulders. ‘I’m still waiting for her to change.’

  ‘Honey, you can wait all your bloody life, she is never going to change into Kim Cattrall from Mannequin.’

  ‘I can hope. Besides, she looks after my ties.’ He gestured towards Candy’s arms, draped in his tie collection, like a very bizarre clothes rack.

  ‘Anyway, stop trying to distract me. Are you going to ask Giselle out now?’

  He sat down and sighed heavily. ‘In a few days, I need to psyche myself up first. I’m not sure how to do the whole dating thing. I don’t know what to do or what to say. I think I need to practise first. Me and Josie never really dated, we were just together and then we were married and now we’re not. The divorce only came through earlier this year, just before you arrived, and well, I haven’t had the heart to date anyone since. Josie put me down, she shattered my self-esteem and I’m only just picking up the pieces.’

  She sat down next to him. ‘I hate that she destroyed the confidence you have in yourself – you look at yourself now as if you’re not good enough any more.’

  ‘For the last two years of our marriage she went elsewhere for sex. I clearly wasn’t good enough for her.’

  ‘What did you see in her? She sounds vile.’

  ‘As loath as I am to defend her, we had some really good years. She was a lot of fun when she was younger but so much of that disappeared after we had been married for a few years. I think she grew bored of me.’

  ‘She was an idiot. Any woman would be lucky to go out with you, exactly as you are. You’re sweet, funny, incredibly sexy. If I wasn’t leaving I’d go out with you in a heartbeat.’

  He stared at her. ‘What?’

  She swallowed. Where the hell did that come from? She rarely dated, she’d never had someone she could call her boyfriend and she had no desire to either.

  Suddenly his phone erupted in his pocket. Fishing it out, he looked at the caller ID. ‘Sorry, it’s my mum.’

  ‘No worries, I have to get on with some work anyway, send her my love.’

  He answered it. ‘Hey Mum, hang on a sec.’ He covered the speaker. ‘Pub tonight?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’ll see you at six.’

  She left him chatting to his mum and headed over to her flat. She needed to make sure George was going to be OK when she left. She couldn’t bear the thought of him being too scared to date anyone, either from the fear of getting hurt again or the fear that he wasn’t good enough. She had to do something to show him how wonderful he was – but how would she change his mindset in just two weeks?

  She sat down in front of the computer, staring at the screen with no enthusiasm for writing. She had struggled recently, in the last few months. She had never before had any kind of writer’s block. But she had never thought about staying somewhere before and she wondered somehow if the two were linked. She had lived in some of the most beautiful places in the world but none had sucked her in like White Cliff Bay.

  The weird thing was, Libby Joseph had almost been wiped from existence fourteen years before. Eve Loveheart, her pseudonym, had been a character in a little known children’s book, one who had adventures and travelled the world, and at the time it seemed fitting that Libby would assume that identity. She’d even managed to get fake IDs with her new name, assuming that if her dad ever came looking for her she could never be traced. Every place she went she always gave her new name. While her publishers and agent knew her real name, no one else in the world was privy to it.

  But on her first day in White Cliff Bay, when she had met George with his friendly eyes and huge smile, she had introduced herself as Libby Joseph without any thought. Maybe it had been the recent news of her dad’s death, maybe it had just been George and subconsciously she had known that she could trust him, but it had been as if a shield had been lifted and she didn’t have to hide any more. For the first time in a very long time, people were allowed to see the real her. It had felt a wonderful relief at the time, but now she wondered if not living behind the façade meant she had lost the character she became when she wrote. The one with sass and all the moves. The one that knew about mind-blowing sex and heart-warming love stories, when really she had no knowledge or experience of any of that. How many times could she write a love story with a happy ending when that had always passed her by?

  Although she had been on a few dates over the years, there hadn’t been anyone that had really grabbed her attention and she realised now that part of that was the men had probably dated Eve Loveheart not Libby Joseph. Writing devastatingly sexy heroes who were super romantic had ruined her for men. She wanted what she wrote about in her books and she wasn’t going to settle for anything less. Unfortunately the perfect man didn’t exist. The men she had dated had never held her hand or danced with her, they’d never made love surrounded by candles or in front of a log fire but, most importantly, there had been a complete lack of spark or even any fun. She never stayed anywhere long enough to develop any kind of serious relationships and truth be told she liked it that way. Well, that was until she had come to White Cliff Bay, when an inexplicable ache had settled in her heart. It was something she had never felt before and she was having trouble recognising what it was. Loneliness perhaps, or maybe an affection for the people and the town. A huge part of her wanted to stay to explore these feelings but she had never stayed anywhere before. The thought of staying in White Cliff Bay filled her with fear and joy all at the same time. But now, for the first time, she feared leaving almost as much too. Six months was always her limit before she moved on. She told herself or others it was to do with her work as an author but in reality there was so much more to it than that.

  She stared at the story she was currently working on, The Long Winter, and flicked through to the bit she had written last. To say it lacked some of her usual sparkle would be an understatement.

  She needed some romantic inspiration and right now she had none. She needed to date someone. If she was going to write as Libby Joseph and not Eve Loveheart, then she needed to date someone as Libby too. It didn’t have to be anything serious, just a few dates to get her head back into the romance zone again. It would give her something to write about, the romantic gestures, the little looks.

  Suddenly she had an idea and it might actually kill two birds with one stone. She smiled, pushed back from the keyboard and stood up. This could actually be a brilliant idea.

  * * *

  George’s front door burst open, just as he’d got out the shower and was standing naked in his bedroom.

  ‘George! George!’ Libby called, running from his lounge towards his bedroom.

  He threw himself across the bed and slammed the door, just as she was about to come in.

  ‘Bloody hell, George, a second later and you’d have smashed my face in. Do you have a woman in there, is that what you’re hiding?’ She rattled the handle mischievously.

  He quickly pulled on some clothes. ‘Yes, we’re having mad passionate sex, go away.’

  ‘I can’t, I have something brilliant to tell you, could you not stop just for a few minutes? Knowing your sexual prowess I’m sure she could do with a breather.’

  He smirked as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and opened the door.

  ‘OK, Libby Joseph, you have two minutes, but then I have to go back in there and finish what I’ve started.’

  ‘I’ve had an idea. You should take me out on a date.’

  His heart leapt. That would make sense. She loved talking to him, thought he was funny and sweet. It had only taken her six months to see that they were perfect for each other and now…

  ‘Then you can practise what you would say to Giselle, what little anecdotes you could use on her to make her laugh. I can
give you some advice on the things to do and avoid on a first date. We can help each other out. I need some romantic inspiration for my book and you need to practise dating again before you ask out Giselle. I want to help you – you deserve to have someone wonderful and I will be so happy if I leave here and you’re with Giselle. It can be my goodbye gift to you, get you back into the saddle again.’

  He tried to hide the disappointment from his voice. ‘Now, that is an excellent idea. You can be my guinea pig. Wait, does that mean I have to take you to some fancy restaurant?’ He hated fancy restaurants. He never knew what to order, which fork to use first, which glass the red or white wine went in, and felt that the waiters knew as soon as you walked in that you weren’t a regular to such establishments. They would always give you that look, the look you would give a piece of turd when you had accidentally stepped in it.

  ‘Perhaps you should just take her to the Bubble and Froth,’ she said. ‘It’s your favourite pub, she’d get to know what sort of things you like and you’d be more relaxed. Besides, if you take her somewhere posh it gives her false illusions about what sort of person you are.’ She hesitated. ‘But then again, George, taking her to a restaurant rather than your local would show that you’re making a bit of an effort. So maybe a compromise? Oooh, how about that new Indian that’s opened on the far side of White Cliff Bay on the road to Port Cardinal – The Cherry Tree? We could go there. Then it’s not posh, but it’s somewhere a bit special… plus,’ she grinned, cheekily, ‘I really fancy a curry.’

  ‘OK, sounds good, and then after we can watch Psycho. I’ve just got a digitally remastered version of the original.’

  ‘Ooh, I do love a good thriller. So tomorrow night?’ Libby asked.

  George nodded, unable to hide the grin from his face. He was going to take Libby out on a date. His day had suddenly got a lot better.

  * * *

  As they walked to the pub later that night Libby glanced over at George, trying to conceal her smile. He was wearing a green jumper with a huge reindeer face smiling out from the middle of it. He looked ridiculous but somehow utterly adorable. When he found a girlfriend she hoped with all her heart that it would be someone who would appreciate George exactly how he was, stupid jumpers, silly sense of humour and all his wonderful quirks.

  He saw her smiling at him. ‘You admiring my jumper?’

  ‘I love it. It’s so you.’

  He smiled and as she looked away over the sea, she felt his hand slip into hers. She looked up at him in confusion, her heart stuttering with this sudden show of affection. They had an incredibly close relationship but it had never progressed to hand-holding before.

  ‘If we’re dating we probably should…’ He gestured to their entwined hands, a look of mischief on his face.

  She laughed but she didn’t remove her hand from his and he didn’t remove it either. There was something so incredibly sweet and natural about holding hands with her best friend. It had started to snow again, gentle flakes twisting and twirling in the night sky, and holding hands with this wonderful man under the snow made her smile and gave her the warm and fuzzies. The wind was up and the waves were crashing theatrically onto the beach, adding drama to the moment. She didn’t need to imagine romantic moments; she could find real romance right here. Dating George was going to give her exactly what she needed.

  As soon as they entered the pub, George peeled off to talk to Seb, the landlord, and spying her friend Amy sitting in the corner, Libby wandered over to sit with her.

  The huge Christmas tree sparkled and glowed next to Amy’s table with old-fashioned traditional decorations that matched beautifully with the simple Victorian-style décor of the pub.

  Amy was reapplying a coat of deep red lipstick. She was so glamorous, Libby envied her. Even though Libby would always choose comfort over style when it came to clothes, she would love to have the confidence to dress as Amy did. Today, dressed in a fifties red and white flowered dress, with matching mile-high red stilettos, she looked gorgeous, her long black hair plaited with a flower at the end. But even when she worked behind the bar, she wore clothes like this.

  Libby pulled at her hoodie self-consciously. ‘You look gorgeous, as always.’

  Amy sighed as she put her lipstick back in her bag. ‘Well, at least you noticed.’

  Amy’s eyes slid over to the bar and Libby followed her gaze to Seb who was laughing with George and Sally, the other barmaid. Seemingly this corner of the room didn’t even exist for him.

  ‘Do you not think you might be barking up the wrong tree?’ Libby watched how Seb was with Sally … was he flirting with her?

  ‘No, he likes me, I know he does, he just doesn’t want to show it. Especially not with Judith lurking around like a bad smell.’

  ‘I like Judith.’ Libby suddenly diverted her attention to stroke Jack, Seb’s dog, who had come over to see if they had any food he could scrounge. ‘You can’t blame her for still feeling protective towards Seb, for still keeping an eye on her son-in-law even though…’

  ‘…Her daughter’s been dead five years,’ Amy said with a groan. ‘I know, I know, don’t keep reminding me.’ She took the last swig of her drink before saying in a quieter voice, ‘Have you any idea how hard this is for me too – I’ve not only got to fight my way past a dead wife to get to him, but also the dead wife’s mother.’

  ‘Judith’s bound to be extra critical about any woman who she thinks is going to take her daughter’s place.’

  Amy sighed, pulling Jack’s ears fondly. ‘She’s certainly extra critical of me.’

  ‘Well, you did set fire to her shed at your barbeque in the summer.’

  ‘I’ve paid for a new one, but the dislike set in before that.’

  ‘Oh yes, “Gnome Gate”.’ Libby giggled.

  ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘It so is.’

  Amy’s nephew, Charlie, had come to stay last summer, a twelve-year-old whirlwind of clumsiness, practical jokes and big freckly grins. He thought Judith’s gnomes next door were hilarious. Over the week that he’d stayed, he had moved several of them into provocative sexual positions. One poor gnome, bending down to get a frog from a pond, had suddenly found that another of the male gnomes had snuck up behind him and taken a shine to him. Judith had been horrified. Not the best way to impress Judith, especially when it seemed Amy had to get past her to get to Seb. Since Marie’s death five years before, Judith had taken it upon herself to look out for him and rumour had it no one was good enough to replace her little girl.

  Amy sighed. ‘I don’t know, Lib, maybe it’s too complicated. Maybe I should just go out with someone nice and sweet instead.’

  ‘You don’t want nice and sweet, Amy, you want passion and love and complications. Nice and sweet would bore you.’

  George appeared then, passing Libby her pint of cider and Amy her glass of red wine, before sitting down next to Amy, awkwardly arranging his legs over Jack who had decided to fall asleep under their table.

  ‘Hello, sexy.’ Amy kissed him on the cheek, as she always did, as she did to almost everyone she knew. He blushed, as he always did. ‘What’s new with you?’

  ‘Me and Libby are dating,’ he declared with a huge grin on his face. Libby laughed and Amy nearly spat out her drink.

  ‘Finally! It took you two long enough. You tell me not to date him, but it’s OK for you to,’ Amy said with a smile, clearly not bothered at all by this new turn of events.

  ‘What?’ George asked, taking a big swig of his ale.

  Libby’s eyes widened as she suddenly remembered.

  ‘I told Libby I was willing to be your rebound sex after you divorced Josie earlier this year, but Libby told me I wasn’t allowed. Personally I think she’d be jealous of the amazing sex me and you would have.’

  He choked on his ale, but quickly recovered himself. His eyes were almost accusing as he spoke to Libby. ‘Why, why would you deny me that? I like sex, especially the amazing kind.’

 
Libby laughed. ‘Ah now, you wouldn’t be able to keep up with Amy’s sexual prowess, she’d ravage you, leave you broken and beaten. I was saving you from her.’

  ‘I’d at least like to be beaten once,’ he muttered.

  Amy smiled into her wine. ‘What was your reason … oh yes. “I want someone for George who adores him, who treasures him and loves him.”’

  George’s scowl vanished. ‘Is that what you said?’

  Libby blushed. ‘I just want you to be happy. Look, Nick is here.’

  George glanced round and Nick waved at him and gestured to the table where they played poker every Sunday night.

  ‘Oh, I better go.’

  Amy dug in her handbag and passed him a box of matches. ‘Here’s your poker money, win big.’

  George grinned, took the box and slid out of the booth. He walked a few steps away before he came back and planted a kiss on Libby’s forehead. She couldn’t help the smile that burst on her face as he walked away. She turned back to face Amy who was watching her keenly.

  ‘I’m happy for you, Lib, George is wonderful and you two belong together. But does this mean you’re actually going to stay?’

  ‘No, we’re not really dating. George has his eye on the girl who has just moved into the flat above his, Giselle – he’s practising on me. It’s not real.’

  ‘And that’s why you’re grinning like the cat that has the cream?’

  ‘He just makes me laugh, that’s all.’

  ‘So you would never properly date him?’ Amy was pushing it and Libby didn’t know why. ‘You don’t fancy him, not even a tiny bit?’

  ‘No.’ Libby knew she was blushing. She knew Amy had seen it too. ‘I’m leaving in two weeks. Even if I did have a soft spot for him, I can’t pursue anything with him. I’d be in New York, he’d be here, how would that work?’

  ‘Well, maybe you don’t go to New York.’

  ‘I have to go for work.’

  ‘You and I both know that’s rubbish. There are hundreds of authors out there that never even visit the places they write about, and there are plenty more who just pop over for a few weeks to research.’