Blythe had to admire her initiative. ‘Anyone bought one yet?’
‘No, but it’s early. I figured if I had a stand near Sam’s cottage I could lure a few people in when they were admiring the lights.’
‘Good idea.’ The mention of Sam had Blythe overheating. Thoughts of their kiss made her roll her lips together.
‘Any chance of him making an appearance? Preferably in his sexy Santa outfit?’ asked Vicky.
‘When it’s two degrees outside, and just to sell your pom-poms?’
‘Fair point. But I figured now he’s got over his Christmas strop we’d see more of him.’
This was uncomfortable. What Sam had told her about his childhood was weighing heavy on her and how she’d reacted to his dislike of all things festive. She also felt bad about what she’d done. The Grinch sign flashed at her as a reminder. Previously she’d been vocal about Sam’s loathing of Christmas and how silly she’d thought it was. Now she knew the reason, she felt awful about what she’d said. But how could she put that right without betraying a confidence?
‘I’d not call it a strop exactly. More an aversion. Maybe I was too quick to judge. And I’m not sure him helping out one time means he’ll be embracing the festive season.’
‘Miserable git,’ said Vicky, rearranging her Grinches.
‘No, he’s really not…’
Vicky pulled her chin in and gave Blythe a sideways look. ‘You’ve changed your tune. Why’s that I wonder?’
‘No reason.’ Blythe felt her cheeks flush.
‘OMG you’ve hooked up with Sam. And you’ve not told me about it!’ Vicky’s voice was rising.
‘Shhh!’ Blythe waved at Vicky to keep her voice down. ‘There’s nothing to tell.’ Vicky flicked her hair over her shoulder dismissively and stared at Blythe. ‘Well, not much to tell. We kissed that’s all.’
‘That’s all? That’s huge. He’s the first guy you’ve kissed in, what, a year?’
‘Bloody hell, Vicky. Keep your voice down.’ The man from the chocolate stirrer stall was inching closer as he rearranged the same stirrers for the umpteenth time.
‘I’m pleased for you. I really am. I like Sam. I especially liked…’ Vicky did an impression of the sexy Santa thrusting.
‘Stop it. I don’t know if it’s going anywhere.’
‘Surely that’s up to you. If it was me, I’d be heading straight to the bedroom dragging Sam by his sexy Santa bow tie.’
‘But if it turns out to be just sex, how awkward would that be living in the same village?’
‘Probably worth it though,’ said Vicky, repeating the thrusting. ‘And what if he sweeps you off your feet, you get married at St Bart’s and this time next year there’s three stockings hung up for Santa?’
Blythe blinked rapidly. ‘Bloody hell, Vicky, slow down. Married and pregnant by next Christmas are two things that are definitely not in my plans.’
‘Plans change,’ said Vicky with a shrug as Owen approached the stall, leaned over and gave Vicky a passionate kiss. It all got a bit fervent and Blythe feared Owen was going to mount the table.
When pom-poms started to roll, Blythe had to intervene. ‘Hey there, Romeo and Juliet,’ she said, grabbing some of the rolling pom-poms.
‘Oh, hi,’ said Owen, finally pulling away from Vicky.
‘I think of us as more Jay-Z and Beyoncé,’ said Vicky, rearranging her bobble hat. Owen gazed at her adoringly.
‘And when were you going to tell me about this little development?’ But it made Blythe feel a whole lot better about not telling Vicky about her kiss with Sam sooner.
‘I kind of did tell you. Well, I hinted.’ Vicky looked coy – not a look Blythe associated with her friend.
‘You didn’t.’
‘You know I said I couldn’t see you this week because a thing came up?’ Owen sniggered and Vicky batted him on the upper arm. ‘Owen was the thing. I would have said before only I wasn’t sure where it was going. Sorry.’
