‘Wait a minute,’ I shouted through the car to Amanda, who hesitated halfway out of the seat.
I made my way around the car, testing the slippery cobbles until I became confident enough in my step.
Amanda bristled as I held out a hand.
‘I nearly fell, trust me, it’s better to accept a little help than end up with a bruised arse.’
She sighed and slid her hand into mine.
My world lurched at that small contact, the warmth creating a fire that whipped through me. I froze for a few seconds too long, and awkwardness descended over us. She cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows, kickstarting my pulse.
‘Come on then,’ I said, as though it were she delaying her exit, and not me, half falling in love with a singular handhold.
As soon as she stepped inside, she dropped my arm, much to my dismay. The entire pub turned to look, and I waved.
An uncharacteristic quietness thrummed in the pub as eyes moved from me to the pretty, dark-haired woman beside me. Interest sparkled through the room nearly as brightly as theglistening of the tinsel. Tinsel, which I was convinced they’d reused since the 80s.
Amanda froze beside me before setting her shoulders straight and walking confidently toward the bar. An unstoppable force.
The Harris family sat squeezed around a table, Owen waving before setting his arm back around Claire. Isla looked half-way to sozzled, likely her first big night out since having her baby, and Jeff sat nursing his beer and taking slightly terrified glances at her. Eilidh, Emma and Lola sat at the bar, like a gaggle of giggling geese, while Morag and Alistair sat with the other senior members of the village, Morag waving wildly at Amanda.
Kenny, the owner, looked up with a smile on his well-reddened face. 'Managed to pull yourself out of the greenhouse for a pint? Who’s your pal?'
Before I could open my mouth, Amanda cleared her throat. 'I’m Amanda Inglis, and I don’t need him to speak for me. I’m managing an event at Bayview Manor. There’s been a delivery mix-up?—'
'Aye, that’ll be the champagne, we thought it was a Christmas miracle until the suppliers called. Sounds like you tore them a new one,' Kenny said, nodding toward the back. 'Landed here by mistake this morning. I’ll get the lads to stick it in your truck. But you’ll sit for a minute first. Can’t have you standing there looking like you’ve got a chill.'
'That’s really not necessary.’ Amanda glanced toward the door.
'Sit doon and stop your fussing,' he said, and that was that.
Amanda hesitated, clearly debating whether to argue. I leaned in, dropping my voice. 'One drink won’t kill you.'
And before she could talk herself out of it, I placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her forward. She stilled under my touch for a heartbeat before softening enough to move.
She shook me off as she took the seat at the bar, giving me a wickedly sour look. Lord, I wanted to wipe that anger off her face. Kiss her until she learned how to smile.
Kenny poured two mulled ciders from the pot. 'On the house. It’ll warm you right up while we sort your champagne out.'
'Thank you,' she said stiffly, perched on the stool and looking around as the hubbub returned to normal levels of merriment.
The log burner roared in the corner, the smell of cinnamon and ale in the air. Dogs snored happily amongst boots as people went back to their quiz papers.
Morag shouted over, even she looking a little deep in her cups. ‘Alright, lass, how are you settling in? Is it all champagne and fanciness up on the hill for you, or are you happy down with us regular folk?’
'Morag,' I said warningly, but Amanda surprised me.
'I prefer gin,' she said, perfectly deadpan.
Morag cackled. 'Oh, I like her.'
Amanda turned pink but held her head high, sipping the hot, spiced drink with restraint. The firelight caught in her dark hair, making it glow reddish at the edges. She seemed smaller in the pub than at the manor, where the moment she’d stepped into the building, she’d filled the space. It struck me with an urge to protect her, which was ridiculous, knowing her capabilities. Still, I clenched a fist to fight off the need to drape my arm around her waist.
'You alright?' I asked quietly.
'I’m fine,' she said.
'Indeed.’ That had her giving me another look that screamed, “Behave yourself.” But where’s the fun in that?
