Page 61 of The Christmas Highland Lodge

Nope. Not going there.

I had to keep all this in perspective. We were colleagues. Yes, I found him very physically attractive. I was certain most other women would too. You would be crazy not to. But I had to think logically about it all. I’d had enough of Christmas pessimists to last me a lifetime, thanks to Kyle.

My track record of putting my faith in people was a poor one.

I wasn’t prepared to put myself in the firing line to be hurt again.

I’d done a lot of thinking last night. I had come to the conclusion that it had been the romance of the cabins, the snow, the festive decorations, a handsome man… Yes, the combination of all of that had made me feel a bit… well… odd. It wasn’t anything else. Definitely not. I also had my new job with the Styleses to focus on and I was determined to make that a success.

But the fact that Blake disliked Christmas so much still gnawed at me. Could it be anything to do with that woman he had been having that tense phone conversation with in the woods? Amy, was it? Or perhaps he was like Kyle; some people just didn’t enjoy this time of year and that was that. But there was something about his attitude towards this time of year and his demeanour towards anything remotely festive, that made me think there could be more to it than just a simple grump about Christmas.

I reached for my mug of tea and took a considered sip. I had to drop by the local newspaper office, the Craig Brae Chronicle, to hand in the advert that Max, Stephanie and I had composed to publicise the cabins. It was terrific that all four cabins were occupied over Christmas and New Year, but we had to secure many more reservations after that, going well into next year. It would be a case of building our brand, word of mouth and getting our name out there.

We couldn’t afford to have the cabins sitting empty for the next six months. We had secured some bookings going into spring and the summer months, but I wanted to try and look ahead as much as we could. I was already brainstorming more ideas about what we could do around Halloween. I allowed myself a small, optimistic smile. Lottie Grant, you are making headway.

My thoughts moved on from the cabins and back to Christmas. The newspaper office was just a five-minute walk from Rock Solid Ramblings. I could drop by and see Blake after placing the advert. And if I happened to take some mince pies, a yule log, maybe some decorations and an advent calendar with me, what harm would it do? Just as work colleagues, of course. Ok, he might send me packing, but then again, he might secretly appreciate it. Maybe he just needed someone to give him a gentle nudge and let him see how wonderful this time of year could be? Then he might begin to change his mind and open up a bit more.

I downed the rest of my tea and hurried to the shower, before throwing on my black fitted trousers and cream jumper, with my pale-pink shirt underneath. I was well aware of how bitter Craig Brae winters could be and the wind chill was often biting at this time of year. Layers were the solution.

I decided not to take the car. The roads were slushy and I’d witnessed a couple of vehicles perform impressive spins already that morning from my sitting room window. It would be much safer to walk and I could drop in to the supermarket for my Christmas purchases for Blake on the way.

I deposited the advert into the newspaper office to appear in this week’s edition and then popped into the corner shop on the way to see Blake.

Just like in every other business in the town, the Craig Brae Cabin was no different. It was a newsagents, but was like a Tardis inside, crammed with not only newspapers and magazines, but greetings cards, a selection of food and confectionary.

Tinsel dangled everywhere, fairy lights flashed around the edge of the shop window and the shelves at the rear of the shop were bursting with everything festive from Christmas puddings to gingerbread men.

I perused the assortment of mince pies before deciding on a pack of six crumble-topped ones, filled with salted caramel. I also plopped a gorgeous, thick chocolate yule log, topped with a sweet little snowman and a sprig of holly, into my basket.

From the couple of advent calendars remaining on the shelves, I opted for a Cadbury’s one, smothered in glitter and depicting Santa and Rudolph negotiating a snowy roof.

Then it was time to take a look at the corner shop decorations that were for sale. I had toyed with the idea of getting them from Christmas Crackers, but most of the nicer items had gone and I reminded myself how important it was to support other local businesses anyway.

Like the advent calendars, most of the decorations had already been snapped up, but there were several strands of postbox-red and bottle-green tinsel left, so I scooped them into my basket, together with four strands of matching red and green Christmas lights.

Mr McBain, the owner of the Craig Brae Cabin, had three miniature Christmas trees remaining on the counter for sale, dusted with fake snow and their pots tied with a fancy red ribbon.

‘I’ll take one of these as well, Mr McBain.’ I smiled, appreciating Jethro Tull’s ‘Ring Out, Solstice Bells’ drizzling out of the shop radio.

Mr McBain glinted from behind his half-moon spectacles. ‘Dear me lass, I would have thought you would have been well prepared by now..’

‘I am,’ I confided, pulling my purse from my shoulder bag. ‘These are for a friend.’

I heard myself saying the words and a strange pang hit me in the chest. It sounded odd. It felt odd too.

I recalled his apology from yesterday and the way his eyes reminded me of swirling dark chocolate…

I gave my head a severe mental shake and forced myself to concentrate on fetching my credit card from my purse.

I paid for my purchases and set off down the main street, with the council Christmas decorations glowing above my head and down onto the snow-clotted road and pavements.

The happy twinkle from shop displays threw out lively amber pools from their doorsteps and people bustled past, clutching gifts they had just bought.

My boots trampled through the snow, taking me towards the gritted set of steps and Blake’s office.

I steeled myself and glanced down at my bulging shopping bag. Ok. Had I thought this through? No. Not really. Had this been such a great idea after all? Was I going to come across as some interfering, parochial busybody?

Oh God. I hadn’t thought this through at all. Still, I’d been and bought all this now. I didn’t want it to go to waste.