She swept through revolving doors into the garden centre, which was awash with fairy lights. The smell of pine in the air was heady and aromatic and, of course, carols blared from loud speakers dotted here and there.
In the cold, dull winter light Rocco was a sight to behold, so tall, lean and sexy. People walking around him slanted curious glances in his direction because he stood out, his long black coat the last word in expensive elegance, and his tan a sharp contrast to the pale faces all around them.
‘Don’t you think it’s incredible that we will have a child who will be able to enjoy the meeting of two very different cultures—Irish and Spanish?’ he murmured, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm and covering it with his own.
‘I hadn’t thought of it like that.’
The remark was casual but there was an intimacy there that reminded her, again, of the tantalising thought of what it wouldfeel like to be married to him. She’d been so sure of herself but now…this felt a lot less clear-cut.
She wondered whether that also had something to do with the way he had engaged with her taciturn father. It occurred to her that her dad would have hated Steve, with his easy smile, his ready charm and that habit he’d had of pushing his blond hair out of his eyes. Steve would also have been at a loss with her father because there wouldn’t have been a single meeting point between the two and she doubted that her ex would have bothered to make much of an effort.
Which brought comparisons to mind as she glanced sideways at Rocco’s commanding figure next to her. He was so much the superior person in every single respect. Truths concealed seemed less relevant. It made her wince to think how readily she had buried herself back here, recovering from the loss of her mother and from a heart broken by a guy she could barely remember because next to Rocco, he barely registered now on her radar.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere like this before,’ Rocco said, and she glanced up at his handsome face and smiled.
‘More firsts for you?’
‘They seem to come with the territory where you’re concerned.’ He smiled back down at her.
Her heart lurched in what felt like a perfect moment. To the left, a group of tiny schoolchildren, who were maybe five or six years old, were bunched in a choir belting out a Christmas carol with tuneless enthusiasm. Rocco paused, looked at them and slowly strolled in their direction, taking Ella with him, and she could feel the tightening of his body next to hers. Ella glanced up at his riveted expression. He was shorn of his sophisticated, self-assured charm and the cool, lazy, tough veneer that made people jump to attention.
Right now, as he stood silently watching the children sing, there was a naked curiosity on his face that made her pause and her heart constrict. He reached into his pocket, found some notes and put them into the brightly wrapped box in front of the choir, then he turned to her.
‘Tree?’
‘I’m surprised that cash is still accepted,’ she said. ‘I half-expected a card machine.’
‘Is that a tradition here? The kids singing?’
‘I told you we do things in style around here. I used to go to the same school as those kids. And, yes, it’s a tradition, like the Christmas tree in the store and the festive meal for the people who have nowhere to go over Christmas. I know you’ve already chatted to Vera, and told her that your door is open to anyone who wants to talk to you about what’s going to happen, and you’ve also decided to go overboard and make the store as festive as possible. Thank you for that.’
The kids were still heartily singing as she drew him towards the back of the garden centre where the trees stood upright in their containers, waiting for approval.
Here, it was relatively quiet. The cold pinched her face. The flakes of the past few days hadn’t materialised into full-throttle snowfall but still hung in the air with the promise of it.
The feeling of Christmas was all around them: the sound of the children’s voices; the busy laughter; the lights and feeling of good cheer. An impressive display of Santa, his sled and team of reindeer adorned the entrance to the centre.
‘What do you think of that tree?’ She pointed to one in the corner and went to inspect it.
‘Seems small.’
‘Maybe compared to twenty-foot statement pieces where you lived,’ Ella said wryly. ‘We never had a big one at home. It was all about the decorations. And the lights, of course.’
‘Will it be the same without your brother here?’
‘We’ll do a video call on Christmas Day. I guess you’ll be with your parents on Christmas day? You haven’t said…’
‘All in due course. Now, will they deliver this, or do I organise a driver to take it to the house?’
Ella burst out laughing. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. When you’re in Rome, you have to do as the Romans do, and these Romans don’t get drivers to deliver Christmas trees. It will be delivered to the house some time later this evening.’
‘I think maybe a little sooner than that. I enjoy stricter timelines.’
He offered them a bumper donation to the Christmas choir fund and was duly rewarded with a tree that would arrive within the hour.
‘Shall I tell you something? This is the first time I’ve ever felt any sort of Christmas spirit.’
Ella’s breath hitched. He reached to stroke her face. She wanted him to kiss her so much it hurt, but he didn’t, and it was all she could do not to pull him against her and kiss the living daylights out of him.
