Page 78 of The Merry Christmas Project

I caught sight of his yellow coat next to the flower stall.

‘Got him,’ I said, straining to see what he was buying.

‘Perhaps he’s buying flowers for his special tenant ?’ Nell said in a singsong voice.

‘Haven’t you got customers to serve ?’ I said. ‘I thought you were busy.’

I watched as Cole tucked some flowers in the top of one of his bags and then took out his phone.

‘I’m closing early,’ Nell replied. ‘I’m virtually nutless.’

Just then my phone beeped with a text. A thrill shot through me. It was Cole.

‘He’s just texted me,’ I gasped.

Nell squealed in my ear. ‘And ? What does it say ?’

My mouth had gone dry. ‘It says can I pop up and see you ?’

I typed back my reply :

Yes of course, let yourself in.

Great, see you in five.

‘He’s on his way,’ I said, my throat suddenly tight.

‘Then get off the phone, put some lippy on and for God’s sake brush your hair.’

‘No way !’ I said, full of indignation. ‘He can take me as he finds me.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Nell snorted.

I ended the call and scrambled to make myself presentable. I checked under my eyes for smudged mascara and scraped my hair up into a bun to hide the fact that it was overdue a wash. By the time I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I’d arranged myself artfully at the table in the front room with a paintbrush in one hand and a stack of the hand-painted gift cards in front of me which I’d made this morning in between candle batches.

‘Merry ?’ Cole called from the staircase.

‘In the front,’ I shouted, wincing from the pain of my too-tight bun. I loosened it quickly, freeing some strands and hoped the effect would be Boho chic rather than dragged-through-hedge casual.

‘Hey,’ he said from the doorway.

My insides melted as he walked in, bringing the wintry air with him. His cheeks were pink from the cold and his eyes were bright, one hand full of shopping bags. It was so good to see him. He was so handsome, and I loved the rich caramel colour of his hair, somewhere between red and brown. Pecan pie. That was it. That might make a nice candle too. Perhaps I could make an entire range based on Cole’s best bits. I stifled a giggle, aware that my mind had gone skittish at the sight of him.

He strode across to me and produced a bunch of flowers from behind his back. ‘For you.’

My spirits soared. He’d filled the living room with flowers for me when I’d first seen the room, but I’d assumed that was just a one-off, to make the space feel more comfortable. This felt different, more intimate.

‘Me ? Thank you.’ I looked at his face and felt a flicker of doubt ; despite his confident stride he looked uneasy, as if he had something on his mind. ‘Any particular reason, or am I just a lucky girl ?’

‘Um, I just wondered, I just wanted …’ his voice trailed away and he looked down at the floor. ‘To say sorry for you getting locked in the bathroom.’

I smiled at him, half disappointed that there wasn’t a more personal reason for the gesture, but glad it wasn’t to soften bad news. I buried my nose in the bouquet. The delicate scent of stocks, roses and freesias was soft and feminine ; a complete contrast to the manly scent of the candles I’d been working on. ‘Thank you ! They are gorgeous but you needn’t have and you don’t need to apologise.’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe, but I can’t stop thinking about it.’

My heart squeezed. ‘It wasn’t your average evening, was it ? And I must say, it’s better to see you in person and not be sitting on the other side of a door trapped in the dark.’

‘It’s good to see you too.’ He lowered his bags to the floor.