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‘It looks like a joke shop got burgled,’ he replied, his dark eyes glittering. ‘And that was what the thieves couldn’t bear to steal.’
She stamped her feet.
‘You’re the kind of person who has a sticker on the back of their car which says, “My other car’s a Ferrari”,’ James continued.
‘My other car is a Ferrari,’ she blustered.
‘No, it’s not.’ He leaned back, eyeballing her. ‘It’s a broom.’
Estelle stalked back to her desk. ‘You’re just jealous no-one loves you enough to buy you presents.’
‘Ah yes,’ he replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. ‘How I wish someone would give me a giant letter J in case I forget the start of my own name.’
Snatching her moody cow stress ball, she turned and threw it at him.
He caught it with one hand, then squeezed it until the head appeared about to pop.
‘Careful!’ Estelle cried. ‘That’s a present from Eveline.’
‘The lovely vicar?’
Fury punched her in the gut. ‘She’s married.’
‘So you keep telling me,’ he said, still squeezing the cow. ‘That doesn’t stop her from being one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.’
And I suppose you think I’m the opposite?
Isn’t that the point? You’re not trying to make him like you!
James stared at the cow’s frowning face. ‘Did this come with a manual?’
‘What?’
‘These are meant to relieve stress, not be used as a weapon.’ He tossed it back to her as if bored with it.
Catching it, she felt the residual warmth from his hand. She put the toy down and took another gulp of her coffee.
‘Speaking of the vicar…’ James began.
Her heart rate spiked. ‘The one who’s off-limits.’
‘Can you ask her something from me?’
Estelle turned with a jerk, coffee spilling out of the mug onto the saucer.
James smirked. ‘She’s got an item of my clothing and I’d quite like it back.’
It was impossible to compose herself when her mind was flashing images of James naked with Eveline. Estelle wanted to vomit.
His eyebrow raised. ‘My jumper? I left it at the church after you gave me my marching orders last year.’
Breathe! She attempted a nonchalant shrug, but it was so vigorous, the cup and saucer rattled. ‘I’ll ask her.’
‘Thanks. And don’t worry, she’s not my type.’
‘Not your type?’ Estelle hissed, all composure gone as she thought of her youngest sister. ‘We all know what your type is.’
‘You do?’
