Cal and Dad were stood chatting away beside me, stepping back as some shoppers took advantage of the little slices of free ‘Christmas Delight Toffee’ I was holding as a promo for the shop. All the shops closed tonight, allowing their owners to enjoy the parade, but that didn’t mean we were going to miss out on squeezing in a bit of advertising. Thankfully Mum had let me off wearing the elf costume tonight, something I was grateful for.
One of the passing women, now chewing on the toffee, surreptitiously eyed Cal before raising her eyes at a friend and giggling. Probably the most popular stand at the fair was ‘Edna’s Excellent Eggnog’. I knew from experience, it truly was excellent and I had a feeling that this particular group of ladies might have come via that same stall. Caught up in conversation, Cal didn’t notice the admiring glances being thrown his way. One arm rested around my waist as he stood chatting, his free hand snaking down occasionally to pinch a square of toffee. The third time he did it, I tapped him on the knuckles and he burst out laughing.
‘Think yourself lucky,’ Dad said, taking two pieces from the tray and handing one to Cal, ‘normally you get rapped on your first attempt.’
I felt a blush shadow my cheeks. ‘He’s new to the village. I’m being nice and making allowances.’
‘Oh!’ Dad nodded thoughtfully. ‘That’s what it is.’
Cal grinned widely and squeezed me close, his lips pressing gently on the top of my head.
‘Dad!’ George’s voice carried over moments before he and my nephew appeared through the milling crowd, people parting before them like the Red Sea. Matt mosied after them, his wife’s hand in one of his and an extra large eggnog in the other. The children arrived laughing and out of breath and George stopped by bumping into his dad’s leg and wrapping his arms around him.
‘Having fun?’ Cal asked.
‘Yes!’ George’s face was beaming, his nose pink from the cold. ‘Hi, Lexi! George transferred his cuddles, sharing me with my nephew who already had his arms wrapped around my thighs. I cuddled them close, bending and dropping a kiss on both their heads, laughing at the bad cracker joke they shared and feeling happier than I’d ever thought would be possible just a few short days ago.
‘Now that’s a lovely picture!’ Mum called, holding up her phone in front of her. ‘Now everybody say Christmas Pudding!’ she called. Laughing, we all did as instructed and I snuck a glance at Cal as she beamed at us, having taken the shot. His eyes were already on me, shining with laughter.
‘Mum always thinks saying cheese around this time of the year isn’t very festive. We had a whole debate about it one year, putting forward our argument that it was still appropriate because it’s traditional to have a cheese board, and so on but she wouldn’t have it. Mum cooks the dinner so it’s often a good idea to let her win these arguments if we want to eat.’
‘I’d have thought you’d all be mucking in together,’ Cal said, peering at something sticky on the end of George’s mitten. ‘What actually is this?’ he asked, bending closer. George studied it for a moment before shrugging.
‘I think it’s probably candyfloss,’ Matt’s wife offered. ‘They only had a tiny bit each. I hope that was OK. George got a bit excited and forgot to take off his mitten first when he put his hand in.
Cal nodded, enlightened, then gave a shrug of his eyebrows and smiled. ‘No problem. Thanks for treating him.’
‘Our pleasure. Those two are joined at the hip these days. It’s lovely.’
Cal’s smile widened. ‘They are. It’s been so good for him coming here. He’s really come out of his shell. He was so shy before and found it a bit difficult to make friends but he has some great ones now. It’s definitely made me worry less about him.’
‘He’s part of the family.’ Matt smiled, his grin widening as he looked between us.
We all turned to where the boys were now playing hide-and-seek with each other, using Matt as a hiding place. Like all of my brothers, Matt took after Dad’s side of the family: tall, broad, solid, and good for playing hide-and-seek around.
As we stood in a group talking and laughing, I mentioned to Mum that I felt Cal thought we were bad children as we left her alone to do the dinner on Christmas Day. Mum’s momentary horrified look made me smile.
‘Oh no! The kitchen is definitely my domain on Christmas Day, Cal,’ she explained. ‘The last thing I want is a whole bunch of my offspring coming in and telling me I’m doing it wrong.’ She winked at us before hugging his arm. ‘I’m afraid I’m a bit of a diva when it comes to Christmas dinner. My children have learned not to get in the way and just come when they’re called for certain jobs, like carrying things to the table. Other than that, I thoroughly enjoy it all. I know that’s probably not very PC or whatever these days but I’m afraid I don’t take a lot of notice of all that. I do what I enjoy and taking care of my family is something that brings me a lot of joy, just as they do.’
Cal brought his other arm round and hugged her. ‘They’re very lucky to have such a fantastic mum.’
Mum pushed herself up on her tiptoes, and with the help of Cal bending somewhat, planted a kiss on his cheek.
George was now looking a little worn out from all the excitement. Hopefully he’d manage to stay awake long enough not to miss the parade. He leant against me and I put my arm around him, stroking his hair. I felt his weight increase a little and glanced down. He looked up and gave me a tired smile. Reaching down, I hauled him up on to my hip and he cuddled into me as I wrapped my arms around him, revelling in his snuggles.
‘You OK?’ Cal leant towards me. ‘He’s getting quite heavy.’
I smiled up at Cal, cuddling his son a little tighter as I did so. ‘I’m fine. Don’t forget I’m used to lugging racing car wheels about.’ I jiggled George a little and kissed his temple as he giggled sleepily. ‘This one is light as a feather compared to some of those.’
A flash went off making us look up. ‘So cute!’ Mum grinned, tapping at her phone. ‘You don’t mind if I pop this on Facebook, do you, Cal? George’s face was tucked into Lexi’s shoulder so he can’t be seen, in case you’re worried.’
‘Fine by me.’ He smiled at her.
‘Ahem?’ I raised an eyebrow.
‘Oh, I know you don’t mind, darling,’ Mum replied, planting a big kiss on my cheek before beginning to tap away on her phone.
‘I think we might have created a monster introducing Mum to social media.’
Standing close to me, I could feel Cal’s laughter. ‘You’re not helping.’
‘You love it.’
I looked up, meeting his eyes, and I couldn’t deny it. I did love it. All of it. But especially him.
***
As the sound of the parade drifted down, the children began jumping excitedly. Almost as one, Matt and Cal both lifted a small boy onto their shoulders, enabling them to see over the crowds as carefully decorated Christmas floats drove slowly into view, their costumed occupants dancing along to the music and waving to the crowds that lined the village high street.
Bringing up the rear was Santa’s sleigh with a well-padded Father Christmas at the helm, and a very glamorous Mrs Christmas next to him. The ornate sleigh body, crafted by Matt, hid something that sounded suspiciously like an old Mercedes.
‘Sounds like she’s running all right now thanks to you two.’ Dan appeared next to us, directing his comment at Cal, a niece perched happily on his broad shoulders, her little hands firmly grabbing two handfuls of hair. Claire was his other side, bundled up against the cold in a warm, puffy coat and looking healthy and happy. ‘Make quite the team, don’t you?’
Cal looked down at me. One arm rested on George’s leg, as he balanced on his shoulders, but the other was wrapped around my waist, holding me close. I met those stormy ocean-grey eyes, tonight filled with laughter and joy that perfectly reflected my own.
He let that almost illegally sexy smile slide onto his face. ‘I think we make the perfect team.’
Epilogue
&
nbsp; One Year Later
I sat back, Apollo at my feet and the man I woke up with each day, who I was still amazed, and incredibly proud, to call my husband, beside me. Christmas dinner was over for another year and the noise and laughter surrounding the table made me smile. It had been a year full of surprises from Cal’s unexpected proposal on this day last year in front of the family he was now lovingly a part of, to the perfect, quiet wedding. Cal had been worried when I’d told him I’d turned down Marco’s generous job offer – he’d been incredibly supportive of me taking it, if that was what I had wanted, knowing that we’d make it work whatever.
But I’d known it wasn’t what I wanted. It was an amazing opportunity but it was time to make a change. Time to be brave. I looked around at my large, noisy family, now with the addition of three more with Giselle and Xander’s baby daughter, plus Dan and Claire’s twins. I wanted to be here. With Cal and George, and with my family. My enjoyment of travel was still fulfilled by having taken over the liaising with our international suppliers. But now the travel was on my terms and I loved it. I loved being part of my family again in a more meaningful way.
I only wished that I could have avoided picking up the kids’ stomach bug for Christmas.
‘You OK?’ Cal leaned over, our goddaughter’s chubby arms flailing about as she sat on his lap and did her best to upend anything within her short reach, giggling with every attempt.
‘Yeah, just a bit tired.’
‘Did you make an appointment with the doctor?’
I moved my water glass further away from the baby’s reach just in case and shook my head.
‘It’s just a bug. They can’t do anything about that anyway. It’ll pass soon enough. Everyone’s had it practically.’
Cal smiled at me. ‘Right.’
I gave him a tired smile. ‘What?’
‘You’re right. Everyone has had it. And everyone else only threw up for one day and recovered in three. You’ve been sick for over a week now.’
‘Maybe I was run down.’
‘I thought you said you’ve felt better this year than you have in ages.’
I sighed and leant my head against his arm, the baby catching on to my finger and giggling as she played. ‘I have really.’
Cal moved closer, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke, sending hot, delicious tingles throughout my body. ‘That’s what love – and lust – can do for you.’
I laughed, knowing he was right. In the past couple of years, my life had taken directions I’d certainly not planned for, or expected. But in the end, I knew that now I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Cal and I both knew that the likelihood of any more additions to our family was low but we had acquired a couple of four-legged ones several months back and he’d been right. We did have the most wonderful, full, and happy life. We accepted how lucky we were to have what we had already been given. And that was enough.
‘Anyone want tea?’ Mum said, rising from her chair with her party hat slightly askew and a definite rosy bloom to her cheeks.
‘Not for me, thanks. It’s really weird but I’ve gone right off tea lately.’
Without exception, every adult in the room turned their head to look at me.
I met the smiles with confusion. ‘What?’
Cal, the baby still on his lap, placed a kiss on my temple. ‘I have an extra Christmas present for you. You don’t have to open it now. Later is fine.’
‘Cal, no. You’ve already given me so much!’
Giselle leant over and took the baby back on to her lap, her face beaming. ‘I think he might have given you something else, if we’re all reading the signs right.’
I switched my shocked gaze from her to Cal, who laid a thin box in front of me.
‘When you didn’t shake off the bug, I got to wondering …’
I knew the shape. I’d bought enough a few years ago to recognise one from fifty paces. My fingers laid upon it, its contents holding so much promise … but also the possibility of so much disappointment. Cal and I hadn’t been trying for a baby consciously. We were enjoying our life together with George, and travelling. Cal had promoted Xander, lessening the pressure on himself and allowing us more time together. We’d both been brave and it had paid off.
Two minutes later it proved to have paid off in more ways than we could ever have allowed ourselves to believe.
If you loved this wonderfully festive tale then read on for an excerpt from one of Maxine’s other stories,
The Christmas Holiday …
Chapter One
‘Take a seat, Mia.’ My boss, Jeremy, waved at the chair opposite his desk. I took it, trying to read his face in order to assess whether this was going to be a good or bad experience. I got nothing so I smiled, sat down and hoped for the best.
‘As you know, Olivia, my daughter, is getting married this Christmas.’
I nodded, still smiling. ‘I do, boss, and I can assure you I’ll write the best piece I’ve ever done for her special day.’ I tried to come across as genuine without sounding like a suck-up. To my ears, it didn’t seem to be working but he waved my comment away and didn’t throw out one of his verbal barbs like he normally did if he thought someone was trying to pull something – and I liked him for it. Jeremy was a good boss. He was tough and didn’t take crap from anyone. He’d tell you when you’d done a good job and didn’t hold back when he thought you could do better.
‘Yeah, yeah, I know that. You know you’d be out on your arse if you didn’t and you’re a bright girl, so …’ He did a palms-up kind of gesture to punctuate his statement. ‘This isn’t about that. That’s a given. This is a different assignment.’
My heart sped along a couple of beats. I’d been working on the ‘Hatches, Matches and Despatches’ section of the national weekend paper for the last three years. Our publication was unusual in that we still produced an actual weddings section, and despite the popular cynicism about marriage, readership figures for it continued to be high so it certainly seemed we were doing something right. Although my own life hadn’t exactly taken the route of skipping down a rose petal-strewn path, I enjoyed my job and loved the heartfelt feedback we received, both from the couples featured, and from readers. But I was ready to move on, and my real goal was to write for the travel section. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one with that ambition. There were an awful lot of people after that particular glittering prize and the current resident writers and freelancers guarded their posts jealously. Understandably.
‘Olivia and Sandeep are planning this big trip in the run-up to the wedding and now they’ve decided they want it documented.’
And like most young, rich and beautiful women, what Olivia wanted, she tended to get.
‘Bit last-minute, I know, but there we are.’
‘Right,’ I replied, slightly confused. If this was a travel piece, there were plenty of other journos he could use. With the exception of a couple of pieces on rural getaways in Norfolk earlier in the year, my portfolio of travel cuttings was pretty thin. Jeremy knew my goals – the original position I’d applied for had been travel writer. But I knew I’d only got that other assignment because the regular contributor had had “a prior commitment”. Privately, I knew that “commitment” was merely a commitment never to go to Norfolk if he could help it, accustomed as he was to such destinations as the Seychelles and Martinique. Luckily, I had no such prejudices. I’d had a brilliant time and absolutely loved writing the pieces. Jeremy had been pleased but nothing more had come my way – excepting a few dagger looks from the writer who’d supposedly been unavailable and who would have preferred me to have fallen flat on my literary face.
Jeremy leaned back in his expensive, custom-made leather chair and looked at me.
‘I want you to do it. More precisely, Olivia wants you to do it.’
‘You do? She does?’ Having never actually met Olivia, I was a little surprised to discover she even knew I existed.
‘She reads the wedding section religi
ously every Saturday. Absolutely loves it.’
‘Oh! Right. Wow. That’s … very flattering.’
‘It’s not flattering, it’s the truth. You’re a good writer and Liv knows good writing when she sees it.’
‘But this would be more of a travel piece?’
‘I suppose you could call it that, to an extent.’
I caught sight of one of the resident travel writers wandering past the glass walls of Jeremy’s office looking tanned and relaxed. As he should be, having spent most of the morning regaling us all with tales of his latest assignment at a luxury resort in Mauritius. Smug didn’t even begin to cover it. Jeremy followed my gaze.
‘He’s not still banging on about Mauritius, is he?’
I set my expression to non-committal.
Jeremy smirked. ‘Right. Very diplomatic, Mia.’ He shrugged. ‘He’s a pain in the arse, but he writes really good copy.’
‘That’s what it’s all about.’ I acknowledged the bare truth of it all before looking back at my boss. ‘But you don’t want him on this assignment because …’
‘This isn’t for the paper. It’s a private job and I want people on it who I trust. You’re going to have a level of access to my daughter that others might find tempting to use as a means of furthering their own career. People in this business can be pretty cutthroat. You know that. If someone thinks they can get something on the daughter of an internationally prominent media tycoon … Isn’t that what they call me?’ He pulled a face. ‘Anyway, getting to me via Liv? They know it’ll sell papers and magazines. It doesn’t matter that I might have given them their first break, or took them out for a ridiculously overpriced dinner the last time they were in town. They know what opportunities and financial reward this sort of access might offer them. And I won’t lie – it’s a hell of a lot more than I’ll be paying you for the job. But I’m asking you not only because Olivia – and I – love your writing, but because I know that, out of all the people I work with, you’re one of the few I’d trust with a secret. And about the only one I’d trust with my daughter’s privacy.’
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