by Eve Devon
Putting out a hand and resting it on his forearm, she looked up at him and said just as quietly, ‘Oh, Jake, don’t worry so much. As if you’d be interested in me.’
He felt bad as he stared down at her hand with all the rings glinting in the light. Hands that probably never enjoyed driving into the earth. ‘It’s not that you’re—’
‘God. I know,’ she said with a trace of her old self-confidence. ‘It might have taken me this last year to realise Bob didn’t leave me because I’m not good enough – that he left because I’m not a man, but I do finally realise it. When Emma asked me to be your date for the evening—’
‘Emma asked you specifically to be my date?’ he asked, wanting to make sure he got his facts exactly right before he gave Hollywood a piece of his mind. Most probably everyone else got sucked in by those gorgeous eyes of hers and promptly forgot what they’d been going to say. Well, not him.
‘Yes, why else do you think I’m here?’ Gloria purred. ‘Anyway, she didn’t exactly have to beg me. I saw it as a golden opportunity to persuade you to do the charity calendar. I’ve already roped-in Daniel and Oscar for June and July.’
‘Gloria,’ he leaned down to whisper in her ear, ‘are you telling porkies?’
Her nose wrinkled in delight and he thought that when she wasn’t acting like she was perpetually stepping in dog-poo, she could be quite fun.
‘Okay, I might be. But they’ll definitely do it when I tell them you’re in,’ she said.
‘But I’m not in – I’m decidedly out.’ He winced as she paled a little. ‘Sorry, poor choice of words. But I’m not doing that calendar, Gloria.’
She pouted and he threw back his head and laughed, catching Emma looking at him like an angry librarian as he brought his head back up.
‘So then, we understand each other?’ he checked.
Gloria nodded. ‘Of course. It’s as clear as day that your heart is fixed on someone else, anyway.’
He couldn’t help it. His gaze shot straight to the bar again, his heart thundering against his chest wall. What the hell did Gloria mean it was as clear as day?
Once again she laid a hand on his arm. ‘Everyone knows you’re not over Alice.’
‘Alice?’ Shock silenced him. Of course he was over Alice. Alice had humiliated him in front of his family, his friends, everyone in Whispers Wood. Alice had made it so that he thought he might never enjoy Christmas again. Is that why people thought he wanted to be out of the village this Christmas? Because he had a broken heart? A broken heart that only a naïve newcomer would think could be fixed as easily as putting someone single in front of him?
He looked around the room and saw that Emma was now at Oscar and Juliet’s table, chatting animatedly with them. Annoyance that she’d forced him to sit here with Gloria, making it look to everyone like she knew exactly what he needed, fizzed in his veins.
He cleared his throat and looked down at Gloria. ‘Right. Alice. Yes. I’m still—’ he stopped, unable to force himself to tell the lie. ‘So, what’ll you have to drink?’
‘Oh, surprise me.’
Two hours later, Jake sat at the bar nursing the last of his third tumbler of JD and coke. He’d swapped to the hard stuff so that he could go back to the table and stomach answering questions about Christmas. Somehow he’d managed to admit that the last person he’d kissed under the mistletoe had, of course, been Alice, while hoping to God the admission didn’t reinforce to Gloria that he was indeed a man in need of fixing.
Kissing had never been all he and Alice had done under the mistletoe. But then they’d never needed mistletoe to stoke the fire. They’d never needed any excuse. Their passion had, ironically, been the most real thing about their relationship and had been the main reason he’d been so sure they were going to work.
He frowned down into his glass, wishing away the memory of the last time he’d seen her.
‘Thank you so much for coming, guys,’ Emma was saying at the door. ‘Don’t forget about our neighbours and be sure to leave as quietly as you can.’
To be fair to Gloria, she only let Emma serve him after he’d placed his car-keys in her hand. As soon as the clock had struck eleven she’d offered a lift to anyone who needed one. He’d declined, telling her he wanted the fresh air and the walk and now the only guests left in the bar were Big Kev and Sheila who were busy in deep conversation with Kate and Daniel.
As if aware that as soon as they left, she’d be left alone with Jake, Emma didn’t look in any hurry to move them along.
If she thought he wasn’t comfortable waiting to talk to her, or that he’d get bored and leave, she was wrong.
You didn’t work with the seasons and not learn how to be patient.
She’d flustered so delightfully earlier when he’d walked up to the bar to order another round of drinks for himself and Gloria. He’d asked for a JD and coke and when she’d asked what Gloria might like, he’d leaned across the bar, dropped his voice a deliberate octave and said what he really wanted to give her was a Screaming Christmas Day Orgasm. She’d stared at him for a full twelve seconds before carefully, thoughtfully, professionally, composing herself to say, ‘Of course, sir. That particular cocktail isn’t on the menu but if that’s what you think your date would like, I’ll whip one up especially.’
With the way she’d emphasised the word ‘date’ and the ease with which she’d been able to hide behind her hostess role, he’d quickly decided he hadn’t got her hot and bothered enough to make up for her conning him into spending an evening centred around his least favourite subject.
Yes, he’d ended up having an okay evening with Gloria but that so wasn’t the point. The point was that Hollywood shouldn’t go meddling in affairs that didn’t concern her. It was like she’d been pulled aside by someone in his family and told how to annoy him most.
As she passed him to reach for a cloth, he put out his hand to stop her.
She stared at his hand on her arm and then, sucking in a breath, lifted her gaze to his and pasted on her hostess smile. ‘Where did Gloria go?’
‘Why do you care?’ he shot back, willing her to tell him why she’d thought a little meddlesome matchmaking something he might require.
‘I planned this event. I wanted to make sure I said goodbye to everyone and—’
‘Personally thank them for helping you out?’ he finished for her.
‘Exactly.’
‘Well, she’s gone and left me all alone.’
Emma frowned. ‘Oh. I’m sorry.’
‘I guess your matchmaking didn’t quite work out the way you thought it would.’
He witnessed the spark of what he thought was disappointment flare in her eyes and his hand tightened against her arm. What was that saying about keep your friends close and your enemies closer?
Except he got a strange taste in his mouth when he thought of Emma as the enemy.
He swallowed because, of course, he’d really prefer no taste of her at all.
Well, hardly any, at any rate, he told himself, glad there wasn’t a sprig of mistletoe in sight and deliberately wiping over any thoughts of tasting Emma with the excuse that he didn’t have time to treat her as friend or enemy.
‘So the two of you didn’t hit it off?’ Emma asked softly.
‘People aren’t pawns, Emma. Whispers Wood isn’t your stage and this isn’t a play where you can direct people to react in the manner you want them to.’
He noted she at least had the grace to look embarrassed.
‘I—’
‘Gloria is in a vulnerable place at the moment, and to make her even half-start to believe that I, in the place I am at the moment, would be a great person to set her up with, was really thoughtless and totally unhelpful.’
Emma’s chin came up at that. ‘Gloria’s been dating for the past few months.’
Jake snorted. Gloria hadn’t been dating so much as trying to get past the fallout of Bob leaving her for Bobby as publicly and as outrageously as she could.
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‘I’ve got to know her,’ Emma continued defending, ‘and I know she’s in the right frame of mind to start getting serious about meeting someone.’
‘Is that right? And what makes you so sure that I am?’
She went bright red and he found himself caught between really wanting to know how she thought he was ready to date when the rest of Whispers Wood seemed to think his heart was still broken or frozen or whatever the hell it was they thought when they gave him those pitying looks, and wanting to know why she looked less able to defend her thinking that he was in any way the right person to put together with Gloria.
‘I—you—’ she stuttered.
‘You—me—what?’
She shook her head, well and truly flustered.
‘Because, hell, Hollywood, if you’re that hell-bent on me getting a date, then come out with me one night next week.’
Wait – what had he just said?
No way he could have just asked Hollywood out on a date?
He didn’t know who was more shocked.
‘Excuse me?’ She snatched her arm out from his grip, and looked at him like he was mad and he thought that okay, maybe out of the two of them it was her who was more shocked.
Which actually offended him a little. ‘Nope. I won’t excuse you. Getting me here on false pretences.’
‘Yet you’re asking me out? On a date? That’s what you just did? You asked me out?’
‘That’s right.’ When she just continued to stare at him as if he was speaking in Klingon, he leaned forward into her personal space and said, ‘I’m one of those men who don’t actually need the help of a matchmaker or a dating app to function.’
That had her eyes narrowing a fraction and he couldn’t deny the spark that shot through him. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you know the proper etiquette when there’s no swipe-right function?’
‘Ha. How do you know I’d swipe right?’
He just grinned back at her and waited.
If possible she went an even deeper shade of red, except now it might be from anger and he found he didn’t mind that so very much because it brought out the pretty flecks of silver in her eyes.
‘So how about it, Hollywood? Or when it comes to dating are you all mouth and no trou—oops, sorry, what’s the American? Oh, that’s right … are you all mouth and no panties when it comes to dating?’
‘P-pants,’ she stuttered. ‘The American for trousers is “pants”. And of course I wear panties. Will be wearing panties,’ she muttered. ‘Which will be staying on,’ she stated, no sign of a stutter now. ‘For our date.’
He’d only meant to fluster her and get his point across that it wasn’t nice to be manipulated into a date but now she was accepting?
As she breathed out, he felt the gentle waft of air across his face, and couldn’t help but feel his body tighten as she leaned forward so that they were practically nose-to-nose.
Dimly, he could feel his mind working overtime, trying to get him to a point where he could resist being entranced by the way she demurely lowered her lashes. Resist falling for the sparks when she lifted those lashes so that she was staring back up at him, her voice soft as the first summer rain, when she said, ‘As you’re so … experienced, I’ll leave it to you to organise what we do and where we go.’
Suddenly she was leaning back, grabbing his now empty glass from him and turning to stack it with the other empties. When she looked back over her shoulder there was no trace of the smouldering she-devil, only the friendly, warm smile of a woman with not a care in the world.
Oh she was good.
She was really good.
And he was possibly never touching a drop of alcohol again.
Chapter 22
The Bauble’s in Your Court
Kate
‘Are you kidding me?’ Kate clung to the ladder, dropping a handful of lametta so that it glooped instead of cascaded onto the top branches of the Christmas tree she and Juliet were decorating.
If anyone had asked her she’d have said lametta went out with sherry and charades but Juliet said she wanted The Clock House Christmas trees to look like they were positively dripping in vintage Victoriana jewels. And kudos to Juliet because somehow the silver strands went perfectly with the baubles in shimmering rose copper, frosted pale green and glittery white. Strands of pearls and crystal droplets helped the light bounce from decoration to decoration but Kate’s absolute favourites were the antique-jewelled bees, complete with tiny gossamer wings that Juliet had found to represent Bea’s bees behind The Clock House moon-gate.
Decorating The Clock House for the grand opening was a lot of work when tasked with hanging each strand of lametta to hang just so. Thank goodness Juliet had come up with a handy spreadsheet to ensure her vision could be achieved in the only day they had available before they got busy organising their stand for the tree-lighting ceremony. But even with Juliet’s military precision and two trees still to go, she’d been in a really great mood until about thirty seconds ago.
Juliet winced. ‘You promised you wouldn’t shout.’
‘That was before Emma used you to try and kill me.’
‘I really don’t think that was her intention.’
Kate snatched two of the mini baubles off the top branches of the tree, shoved them into her mouth and giving it her best Don Corleone, said, ‘And that she would send you to do the deed.’
‘I think you should think about it,’ Juliet said, looking up at her. ‘And, eew, take those out of your mouth and put them back exactly where I told you to.’
Reluctantly, Kate removed the baubles from her cheeks. She was just going to have to be the Don without the chipmunk face. ‘And do you want me to have this think while I’m up here placing each bauble that you hand me just so because what if I forget to concentrate on placing each decoration on the exact branch and facing the exact angle that you direct me to?’
‘Okay, so trimming the tree makes me a little Martha Stewart. You’ll thank me when everyone’s saying how good it looks.’
‘Are you even going to let Melody near the tree at the barn?’
‘Of course. She’s old enough to decorate it properly.’
‘Because you’ll be giving her a spreadsheet to follow too? What on earth are you going to do when you have all your babies and they get old enough to want to see their toilet-roll-Santas on the tree?’
Juliet smiled a smile that suggested to Kate she’d thought about this. ‘Easy. I’ll have two trees. One they can go to town on, and one I can.’
‘Something tells me your babies are coming out with glue-gun attachments anyway!’
Kate thought that once Juliet had a baby she probably wouldn’t care how the tree was decorated and again noticed how tired she looked. All Juliet’s gorgeous red hair came with a pale complexion but even from all the way up the ladder Kate could see there was now a new translucent quality to her skin.
‘Hun, are you sure you’re not coming down with something?’ she asked, trying not to panic because she so didn’t have a plan for if they all got ill right before they opened.
‘Positive,’ Juliet replied. ‘I’m taking every vitamin known to man and I have zero time to be ill.’
After they’d finished decorating today, Kate was going to insist on some pampering as a thank you and work out a way of bringing the conversation around to how Juliet needed to start delegating once they were open.
Spotting movement out of the corner of her eyes, she whipped her head around to see Emma sneaking quietly out of the kitchen area behind the bar. ‘Emma Danes, I don’t know what you paid for that invisibility cloak but you were fleeced. We can both see you. Come here and explain yourself.’
Emma, looking guilty, sidled up to Juliet. ‘You asked her then?’
‘Oh my God,’ Juliet exclaimed, looking up to where Kate was staring down at the both of them. ‘You can’t tell by the way she’s frothing at the mouth?’
Emma put a hand to the si
de of her mouth and mock whispered, ‘I’m too short to see all the way up there.’
‘Well,’ Kate informed her, ‘let the dribble that’s about to land on your shoulder be clue number one.’
Emma reached out to catch a few of the strands of lametta floating down and held them up for Kate to reposition. ‘So it’s a flat-out “no” then?’ she asked, the corners of her mouth turning down.
‘Yes,’ Kate said, adding an emphatic nod, and tightening her grip on the ladder.
Emma immediately turned her frown upside down. ‘It’s a yes?’
‘No it is not a “yes”, oh for— one of you hang on to the ladder, I’m coming back down.’
At the bottom of the steps she popped her hands on her hips and said, ‘I want you to explain, in words of one syllable, and possibly via the medium of mime too, why on earth you think I’d agree to such a crazy idea?’
Emma shuffled her feet and mumbled, ‘You asked me to hire someone.’
‘Someone,’ Kate confirmed. ‘Not the Wicked Witch of Whispers Wood.’
Emma pouted. ‘She just put her name as Gloria on the application form.’
‘You gave her an application form, already?’ Juliet gasped. ‘I thought you were just mooting the idea.’ She turned to Kate, a rising note of panic in her voice. ‘We have to interview her, for real?’
Emma reached out and poked one of the beautiful antique bee decorations dangling from the nearest branch so that it swung back and forth. ‘Come on, guys. Everyone deserves the chance to fly.’
‘Hey,’ Kate tapped the ladder behind her, ‘I’ve already been defying gravity today. And how is it possible that you’ve turned into Glinda, the Good Witch of the South? If you arrived here on a bubble this morning, I’m afraid I’m going to have to burst it. Because there’s just no way…’
‘But why not?’ Emma asked.
‘Why not?’ Kate repeated, shaking her head in wonder. ‘Well for a start, I think there’s an actual law that requires staff to be human.’
‘I think it’s only on S.H.I.E.L.D. that they’re funny about that. Gloria’s—’
