Page 9 of Yule Party on Sunflower Street

‘Uhm… Yes, please. But… just to check… Is that… Mr Hudson?’

‘It is indeed.’

Damn!

‘It’s a bit cramped under there, Tara, but I’ll do my best.’ There was definitely laughter in his voice.

‘If I try to get out without help, I’m worried I’ll take the whole tree with me,’ she said, realising that she must look a right mess in her dusty jeans and old sweatshirt, let alone the fir tree attached to her bird’s nest of a head.

She watched his boots move past the tree and then he was lying on the floor next to her. His cologne washed over her, warm and spicy, and she closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to work out what she could smell.

‘OK then. Let me have a look…’ He reached past her face and gently touched the back of her head. ‘I’ll try not to pull your hair, but if I do, just let me know.’

‘Thank you, Mr Hudson,’ she said.

‘Please call me Seth.’

‘Seth.’ She sniffed as dust tickled her nose. ‘Thank you.’

‘No problem. Right then…’

There was a gentle tugging on her hair, but Tara was mainly aware of the large man lying next to her. Every cell in her body seemed to be conscious of his warmth and his cologne that mingled with the clean scent of washing detergent. He smelt delicious, like how she’d always imagined a hero in a romance novel would.

‘Nearly there,’ he said.

‘Nutmeg!’ she said, realising what the smell was.

‘Pardon?’ he said.

‘Nutmeg. In your cologne.’

‘Oh!’ He laughed. ‘Right. Uhm… You should be able to move now.’

He slid out from under the tree and held out a hand. Tara took it, then shuffled out herself. When she sat up, everything started spinning.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

‘Just a bit of a head rush,’ she said.

‘Can I get you some water?’ he asked.

Tara met his eyes. ‘No thanks. I’ll be OK in a bit.’ She inhaled then exhaled slowly a few times until her head cleared. When she went to stand, she realised she was still holding his hand and her face grew hotter.

Seth gently helped her to her feet. ‘Better?’

‘Much, thanks.’

He let go of her hand then stood there in the middle of the shop, tall and broad-shouldered, his scent filling the air and mingling with the aroma of pine.

‘It looks good,’ he said.

So do you with that thick dark brown hair and stubble on your strong jaw. With those striking grey eyes and those lips that are…

Tara! Cut. It. Out.

She cleared her throat. Pushed some hair back from her face.

‘You… you think so?’