Page 75 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

Avery folded his arms. ‘You mean when you ambushed me in the kitchen and asked who I was bringing home, because you didn’t think the creaks you’d heard were simply me being a restless sleeper?’

‘Also that.’ May’s dark eyes sparkled. ‘But I am pleased for you. However long or short or intense it is.’

‘Even if it’s …’ Daisy was going to say just for the next few weeks, but she hadn’t had that conversation with Avery, not since they had decided on the whole secret holiday kiss thing, and it had clearly got a bit more complicated since then.

Avery put his hand over hers on top of the table. ‘Even if it’s a now thing, not a forever thing.’

His gaze was serious, and she knew he was reassuring her, trying to take the pressure off, but it made her sad, because who would ever live up to Avery and the way he made her feel, the fun they had together? Those things – lust and laughter, surprising each other, teasing each other – could be seen as short term, part of a purely casual relationship, but why did they have to be? Why couldn’t they build something lasting on those foundations?

‘Right now, I am really happy,’ she said, because they didn’t need a TED talk on why she was thinking about throwing away her relationship rule book, discarding all the things she had thought were important and future proofing when she was with Stefan, and simply going on instinct. She was happy, and that was what mattered.

She almost missed Avery’s ‘same’ because Harry and Sophie came in with plates of steaming, delicious-smelling food. But she heard it, and she squeezed his hand, and even though he looked exhausted and she knew something was going on, she could also see that he meant it: that whatever this was between them, even if it didn’t have a label or a project plan, it was making him happy, too.

‘Listen to this,’ Avery said from the bed, as Daisy kept the door of the en-suite open, rubbing moisturizer into her skin.

‘OK, I’m listening.’ Was it weird, doing her nighttime routine with him there, under her floral duvet? Was it weird how much she loved it?

‘A hound it was,’ he started in a deep, sonorous voice, ‘an enormous coal-black hound, but not such a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smouldering glare, its muzzle and hackles and dewlap were outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dream of a disordered brain could anything more savage, more appalling, more hellish be conceived than that dark form and savage face which broke upon us out of the wall of fog.’

‘That is one of the scariest bits,’ Daisy said. Except she wasn’t feeling scared right now, because she had watched him, sitting up against her pillows, bare chested and reading from her beautiful edition of The Hound of the Baskervilles. Was there anything sexier than a guy you were into reading a book? Out loud? Just for you? While half naked?

Avery looked up, his grey eyes finding hers. ‘Yeah. It didn’t do anything to help me get over my fear. Luckily there weren’t a lot of dogs at boarding school.’

‘It’s phosphorescent paint though,’ she said, climbing into bed beside him. ‘The glowing eyes and drool around its mouth.’

Avery laughed. ‘Didn’t help.’ He put the book aside, and she snuggled under his arm. ‘Dinner was good. Harry’s a great cook.’

‘How did it feel walking up here with me? Up the main stairs in front of everyone, instead of sneaking in late at night?’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Only slightly disrupted by walking May home first. But I didn’t want her to have to go back on her own in the dark.’

‘There might be a hell hound somewhere amongst all those trees.’

‘Yeah.’ He ran his fingers through her hair, sending shivers down her spine. ‘I can think of scarier things, but not in Mistingham.’

Daisy bit her lip, because wasn’t that an opening? It sounded like one. ‘How was Norwich today?’

‘Same as ever,’ he said. ‘Now.’ He turned, so he was hovering over her, his hand sliding down her side. ‘How do you think we should finish this momentous day?’

‘Avery.’ She would not let him distract her this time. ‘What’s going on in Norwich?’

His eyes flickered shut. ‘Nothing.’

‘With the big black door and the way you’re always a bit … distracted when you come back. And the bruise on your cheek that’s only just fading, and—’

‘I walked into—’

‘A fist?’ Daisy finished. ‘Because that’s what it looked like.’

‘I am not seeing anyone else.’ He was no longer stroking her side but squeezing her hip, as if he was trying to keep her in place – as if she was ever likely to run from him. ‘I’m not seeing someone else who’s already in a relationship. This wasn’t a punch from an angry boyfriend or husband, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘I’m worried about you,’ Daisy said, ‘and if there’s nothing to worry about, then why can’t you tell me?’

‘I’ve told you that I go back to Norwich, check on my flat, see my neighbours.’

She swallowed. ‘I don’t think that’s all you do.’

‘Daisy.’ He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath tickling her lips. ‘You don’t need to worry about me. I’m handling it. I am fine. And maybe I’m distracted when I get back because everything I want is here now. It’s an obligation I need to fulfil.’