A Little Christmas Charm

by Kathryn Freeman

  ‘When’s Gabby coming?’ Zoe asked as she closed down his computer. Her head was bent, her hair, not tied back yet, covering her face.

  Owen eyed her carefully. ‘In an hour or so. Are you okay?’

  She looked up and a tear splashed down her cheek. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Come here.’ He patted the space on the bed next to him. When she slid in beside him, he wrapped her in his arms. ‘You’re allowed to miss your mum, Zoe. Allowed to feel a bit sad.’

  Zoe sniffed. ‘I’m not sad. I’m happy. I just wish she was here, too.’

  ‘She’ll be back soon.’ He kept it deliberately vague, figuring saying five days would seem like an eternity right now.

  ‘I know.’ Zoe rubbed vigorously at her cheeks. ‘Do you think I’ll be good at skating by then?’

  He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure of it.’

  ‘You need to buy some, too. Then we can learn together.’

  ‘How do you know I can’t do it already?’

  Her eyes grew wide. ‘Can you?’

  It had been a while, but Owen was pretty certain roller blading was like riding a bike. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘What about Gabby? We can buy her some, too. Then we can all go together.’

  Owen felt his arms tighten around the special little girl he was holding. ‘Way ahead of you, Zoe.’

  She gasped. ‘OMG, you bought her some, too?’ When he nodded, she peeled with laughter. ‘This Christmas is going to be awesome.’

  Owen’s heart faltered. Would Gabby, independent, never-had-a relationship Gabby, feel the same way? Would she even spend the next few days with him and Zoe, or would the thought of playing happy families with them be too much for her? He’d told her he was falling for her – hell, he’d already fallen – and she hadn’t run for the hills. She’d even admitted she liked hearing it. Maybe if he kept things easy, light, in time she’d be prepared to hear more. Perhaps even say something back.

  ‘Can we give Gramps his presents now?’

  Owen grinned, lifting Zoe off the bed and dumping her on the floor. ‘Yes, we should do that. He’s going to love what you chose for him.’ When they’d been buying the tree at the garden centre, Zoe had spotted some bird feeders. He had a strong feeling his dad was going to love them far more than the jumper, socks, book and bottle of whisky he’d bought him. In his defence, the socks had budgies on them. And the book was entitled: How to train your budgie to talk in ten days.

  It was a measure of how her relationship with her mother had moved forward that Gabby was embarrassed by the presents she’d just given her. The scarf, the scented candle. They seemed so impersonal. Gifts to give the person she didn’t really know. Then again, if she’d gone looking for something now, would she have chosen any differently?

  There was still an awful lot of catching up for them to do, if both of them were willing.

  ‘Thank you. It’s beautiful.’ Gabby draped the red cashmere scarf she’d just unwrapped around her neck.

  ‘Great minds.’ Her mother smiled sadly. ‘Or perhaps two people who aren’t sure what to buy each other.’

  ‘At least you knew my favourite colour,’ Gabby admitted, feeling a flash of guilt.

  ‘Green.’ Her mother briefly pressed her hand against Gabby’s. ‘My favourite colour is green.’ She fingered the green and blue patterned silk scarf Gabby had just given her. ‘On some level you know me better than you think.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ Truth was, Gabby was rubbish at buying personal presents. She’d had so little practice at it. She hoped Owen was a typical male and had gone for the standard chocolates or bath salts, because otherwise when he opened his she was going to be embarrassed all over again. A quick glance at her watch and Gabby’s heart gave a little jump. ‘Shall we head over to Owen’s in five minutes?’

  Half an hour later they were standing on Owen’s doorstep. Her mother had offered to drive, giving Gabby the choice of staying over if she’d wanted to, but Gabby had instinctively picked up the keys to the Audi. She wanted to be the one in control of when she left. Not her mother, not Owen. There you go again, Miss Independence. She shrugged off the niggle and rang the bell.

  When he opened the door a moment later, her heart somersaulted in her chest.

  It had only been a day, yet she’d forgotten how beautiful his smile was, how stunning the blue eyes currently eating her up as they skimmed up and down her body before landing on her face.

  ‘Happy Christmas.’

  ‘And to you.’ His eyes remained on hers, unguarded, radiating happiness, desire, longing. Then he bent and brushed her lips, the kiss both tender and intimate. ‘It is happy now you’re here,’ he whispered before straightening and holding his hand out to her mother. ‘Mrs Sanderson, lovely to meet you. I’m glad you could come.’

  ‘Please, call me Helena.’ When her mother went to shake his hand, Owen tugged her forward and kissed her cheek.

  ‘Welcome to the mad house.’

  ‘Mad house?’ her mother repeated as he led them inside.

  He gave her a disarming smile. ‘I hope Gabby warned you we have an over-excited nine-year-old, an invalid and occasionally cantankerous nearly seventy-year-old—’

  ‘I might be cantankerous but I’m not bloody deaf,’ a voice shouted out from the sitting room.

  Owen grinned. ‘I rest my case. Come on in and meet them.’

  The sitting room looked like an explosion in a gift wrap factory. The stuff was everywhere. Automatically Gabby went to pick up some by her feet, only to feel Owen’s eyes on her. ‘It’s Christmas Day, Gabby,’ he said softly. ‘It’s supposed to be chaotic.’ He reached for her hand and pulled her further into the room, introducing her mother to his father and Zoe. ‘You and your mum take a seat on the sofa. Zoe and I are in charge of drinks. What would you like? Champagne, orange juice, a combination?’

  ‘That’s Bucks Fizz,’ Zoe cut in proudly. ‘I know how to make it. Owen showed me.’

  ‘But don’t let that put you off,’ Owen added dryly.

  Gabby and her mum chose a Bucks Fizz, much to Zoe’s delight. As she watched the pair of them walk off, her mother gave her a nudge. ‘Why don’t you go and help.’ She smiled over at Owen’s father. ‘Leave Sidney and me to get acquainted.’

  Sidney, bless him, paled a little but gave her a game smile. ‘Go and stop young Zoe wasting all the expensive champagne.’

  As she neared the kitchen, Gabby heard Zoe chatting away to Owen.

  ‘Remember this morning, when I said can you cook a Christmas dinner and you said no, but you had it sorted?’

  ‘Yes,’ Owen answered slowly.

  ‘Is Gabby going to be doing it?’

  Owen started to laugh, but then the floorboard squeaked beneath Gabby’s feet and both of them turned to stare at her, halting whatever he’d been about to say.

  ‘Your father sent me in to check Zoe wasn’t wasting the champagne.’

  Her voice must have sounded cool because Owen frowned, but he couldn’t ask the obvious question because Zoe was talking again.

  ‘Watch, Gabby. When I pour the fizzy wine in it all froths up.’ Zoe’s hand shook with the weight of the bottle and Owen quickly came to the rescue, keeping it steady for her as she poured. ‘I have to put a bit in, let the bubbles go down and then put a bit more in.’

  ‘You’re doing a great job.’ Gabby kept her eyes on Zoe, refusing to glance at Owen even though she could tell he wanted her to. Had he really asked her here today to cook the bloody turkey?

  ‘Why don’t you take that one out to Helena, Gabby’s mum,’ he added when Zoe looked confused. ‘We’ll bring the others through.’

  He handed her the glass and with aching slowness, eyes on the contents to make sure she didn’t spill it, Zoe walked out of the kitchen. The moment she was out of earshot, Owen put his hand on Gabby’s shoulders and turned her to look at him. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  He exhaled sharply. ‘That’s clearly a
lie. And if you tell me next that you seriously think I only invited you here to cook the dinner, I’ll go apeshit.’

  Gabby jumped at the fury in his tone. ‘Zoe said—’

  ‘I know what Zoe said. Did you hear me agree?’ Numbly she shook her head. ‘Of course you didn’t hear me agree. Only someone certifiably insane would believe I’d invite the woman I’m falling in love with over for Christmas dinner with the express purpose of putting an apron on her and shoving her in the kitchen.’

  Gabby hiccupped out a half laugh, half sob. That’s the second time he’s told you he’s falling for you. Because she still didn’t know how to deal with it, she focused on the first part of the sentence. ‘Are you saying I’m insane?’

  He took in a deep breath, the hold on her shoulders relaxing into more of a caress. ‘Possibly. You’re certainly driving me insane.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Inhaling slowly, she wrapped her arms around his waist and sagged against him. ‘I seem to turn my common sense off when I’m around you.’

  His hands moved to smooth down her back. ‘Good.’

  ‘Good?’

  ‘Yeah. It means you’re not unaffected by me.’

  She laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. ‘God, Owen, I’m far from unaffected by you. I’m terrified of you.’ When he tensed she reached up to kiss him. ‘Not of you, that’s wrong. I’m terrified of how you make me feel. Of how much I missed you. Missed this.’

  ‘Even better.’ His lips met hers, kissing, nibbling, teasing. ‘If it helps, I missed you far more.’ Letting out a wistful sigh she rested her head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart. ‘Did you pack the bikinis?’ he murmured after a while.

  She shook her head. ‘Mum’s staying with me tonight.’

  His lips moved teasingly down her neck. ‘Will you come tomorrow? Stay tomorrow night?’

  Her mind was fogging with lust. ‘I can’t say no to a man doing that.’

  His mouth returned to hers, giving her a final long, deep kiss. ‘That was the general idea,’ he said softly, drawing back and cradling the back of her head with his hands.

  She smiled into his hot blue eyes. ‘So who is making the dinner?’

  His chest heaved with silent laughter. ‘Dad. He’s a chef.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. But as he’s not steady on his feet, yours truly is doing all the grunt work.’ He slid her a lazy, sexy smile. ‘Unless you feel like peeling a few spuds?’

  Her fingers found his waist and she squeezed, hard, causing him to yelp. ‘You might be able to charm my mother, and Zoe, but it takes a lot more than a sexy smile to butter me up.’

  He sighed dramatically, looking at his watch. ‘Maybe the next visitor will be more useful.’

  ‘The next visitor?’

  His eyes danced with amusement. ‘Yes.’ As if on cue, the doorbell rang. ‘Ah, that will be her now.’

  ‘Her?’ She felt like a parrot, repeating everything he said back to him.

  ‘Jealous?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  Instead of answering, he gave her a cocky smile and sauntered out of the kitchen. She wanted to feign indifference and simply breeze into the sitting room but she didn’t have that confidence. Not in herself, or in his feelings for her, despite what he’d just told her. Instead she snuck into the hall, hanging at the back, her heart thumping.

  But when he pulled open the door and she saw who it was, she started to laugh.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The dining room table, enthusiastically decorated by Zoe, held an eclectic group of people, Owen thought, smothering a smile. To his right was Hilda, the last to arrive. She’d stood on his doorstep clutching at a homemade Christmas cake and wearing a tight, awkward smile. If he’d kept Gabby guessing at the visitor just a minute longer, he reckoned Hilda would have jumped back in her car. But since then, she’d started to relax thanks, he had no doubt, to the smile his father had greeted her with. Now the pair of them were reciting their cracker jokes to Zoe, which of course was right up Zoe’s street.

  ‘This is delicious.’ Helena, Gabby’s well-spoken, polite, rather reserved mother was sitting on his left. Owen wanted to dislike her for all the pain she’d put Gabby through, but it was hard when all he saw when he looked into her eyes was a sad, lonely middle-aged woman.

  ‘Entirely Dad’s doing,’ he told her. ‘I was just the skivvy.’

  ‘Even that you had help with,’ Gabby interjected from her seat on the other side of Helena. ‘I can’t believe I let you coerce me into peeling potatoes.’

  ‘Coerce is a little strong. No force was used.’

  ‘Only blackmail.’ Her eyes glittered back at him and he knew they were both remembering his threat to tie her to his bed if she didn’t lend a hand.

  ‘You’d have enjoyed it,’ he murmured, feeling an embarrassing blush creep up his neck as he realised her mother was watching them both, very attentively.

  Gabby must have been aware too, as she quickly changed the subject.

  When the meal was eaten and the table cleared, Owen retreated to the kitchen to make some coffees. He was surprised when Helena came to join him.

  ‘Thank you for inviting me today.’

  ‘Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Gabby, I think, to have you with her.’

  Her eyes fell to the floor and she seemed to be having difficulty articulating what she’d clearly come into the kitchen to say. Figuring he’d give her a moment to collect her thoughts, Owen busied himself making the drinks.

  ‘I suspect Gabby’s told you I haven’t always been there for her,’ she said finally, as he transferred the cups to a tray.

  ‘I know you worked overseas a lot,’ he replied diplomatically. He was more than happy to fight Gabby’s corner, but he suspected a) she wouldn’t thank him for it and b) the relationship with her mother had improved a little over the last few days, evident from the way Gabby had called her Mum, or my mum several times today. Previously she’d only ever referred to her as my mother.

  Helena gave him a half smile. ‘Your tact is appreciated, but we both know I wasn’t the mother Gabby deserved. As a result she’s grown up with … trust issues.’ She sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. ‘I’m only saying this to help you understand her.’

  Owen swallowed down his immediate reaction – laughter. He’d like to bet he understood Gabby far more than her mother did. ‘Thank you.’

  He was about to pick up the tray when she spoke again. ‘You’re the first man she’s ever told me about, never mind introduced me to. I hope you’ll be kind to her. And not hurt her.’

  Owen felt a rush of pride at knowing he was the first man to matter to Gabby. ‘My intention is to love her,’ he replied, looking her straight in the eyes. ‘If she’ll let me.’

  He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a ghost of sadness come and go across her face. But then she gave him a proper smile. One that reached her eyes. ‘In which case, I wish you the best of luck.’

  Owen had asked Zoe to put together a wish list for Christmas Day. So far he’d managed to tick off; opening presents, eating turkey, pulling crackers, watching a film. Building a snowman wasn’t going to happen, but he could grit his teeth and get this final one done.

  ‘Time for charades.’ He watched expressions ranging from shock (Helena), unease (Hilda), horror (his dad) and disbelief (Gabby) cross the faces of the adults before adding, ‘Zoe has requested this.’

  Immediately they all schooled their features, and slipped into two teams (he put Zoe with Hilda and his dad) with barely a murmur.

  Fifteen minutes into the game and Owen was desperately trying not to burst into laughter. It turns out that Hilda, straight-laced, uptight Hilda, was really competitive.

  ‘Come on, come on.’ She strutted round the room with her chin sticking out. ‘Sidney, you have to get this.’

  His dad stared at her, his eyes doing something Owen hadn’t seen in a long time. Brimming wit
h laughter.

  As Hilda continued to stalk the room, bobbing her head, Zoe jumped to her feet. ‘You’re a chicken. Chicken Little!’

  Hilda let out a huge sigh of relief. ‘Thank you, Zoe dear. I was beginning to think my chicken miming days were over.’

  Owen, whose motto was usually there’s no point playing if you don’t play to win, found himself sitting back after that and simply enjoying the show. There was Zoe, giggling her way through her mimes. His dad, pretending not to enjoy himself – and pretending not to keep sneaking glances at Hilda. And then there was Gabby, radiantly beautiful in her fitted red jumper dress. Her presence was the ultimate gift, and he’d drink it in for as long as he could.

  All too soon though she stood up, and signalled to her mum it was time to go. As he followed them into the hallway, he half considered falling to his knees and begging her to stay. It seemed a lifetime since he’d held her in his arms as they’d slept, and he felt it like a physical ache.

  Her mother bid him goodbye and discreetly went to sit in the car, leaving him and Gabby alone. ‘I still have presents for you under the tree.’

  She smiled, though it looked a little forced. ‘Is that plural?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Then I’ll look forward to opening them tomorrow.’

  There was something about the formal way she said it, the tightness of her expression, that worried him. ‘Hey, if you haven’t got anything for me, it doesn’t matter.’ He slid his hands down her back, drawing her closer to him. ‘You’re all the present I need.’ When she sniggered, he smiled. ‘Too corny?’

  ‘A bit, but I’m starting to like your corny lines.’ She bit into her lip, then huffed out a sigh. ‘I have got you a present, but it’s very boring. I’m great at choosing impersonal gifts. Crap at anything more intimate.’

  He kissed her forehead. ‘Gorgeous Gabby, I will love your present, because it came from you. As for the intimate.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’m sure between us we can manage something.’

  She left on a strangled laugh, her cheeks the colour of her dress.

  It had been a good day. As Gabby walked into her house, her mother right behind her, she couldn’t remember enjoying a Christmas Day more. The food had been excellent, the atmosphere relaxed. There had been laughter and foolishness – she’d never look at Hilda in the same way again.