Sorrell checked her phone, setting an alarm and sending Zack a final text back before she went to sleep. He’d showered with her, which had included a thorough cleaning with an extra orgasm and then she’d gone down on him properly, letting him come in her mouth and enjoying how he looked at her afterwards like she was a goddess.
His leaving had been hard. The door to the cottage had been open for about fifteen minutes before he finally went to his car. Soft, tender kisses; more touching; gentle words and promises and it still hadn’t felt like enough.
Sorrell went to the bedroom feeling like she had glided there rather than walked and slipped in between the sheets. Her phone had rung almost immediately. Zack, telling her about a deer he’d seen next to the road, how it was icy, should he sort snow tyres for her car…
She’d smiled as he spoke, the first time in a long while that she’d felt as if someone was bothered about her for more than just a process or a business or a status symbol, something to use to tick a box. He’d wanted to stay. He’d wanted more of her. But he was holding back something, something so they wouldn’t be off the blocks with a false start.
And it was something to look forward to.
She fell asleep smiling, sated. Something to look forward to.
Chapter 17
Severton hadn’t just embraced Christmas, it had been infected by it. Even the sign that welcomed visitors to the town had been tinselled and decorated with holly. Fairy lights were in every window, bar two or three, and most front gardens had been invaded by lit up reindeer or inflatable snowmen or in one case what looked like a dancing version of Santa with his elves in support, reminiscent of a certain film about male strippers.
Sorrell was betting that garden was Gran’s.
The snow still hadn’t arrived. Front pages of tabloids were predicting the worst winter since time began, allegedly, forecasting several feet of snow, which meant the country would come to a stop and no one would be able to get anywhere because no one was used to driving in anything other than wet conditions. However, this hadn’t stopped reservations being made at the hotel. A party of hikers had booked for a week’s stay, apparently taking on some challenge to climb five of the biggest peaks in five days. She’d mentioned it to Zack, who had moaned about irresponsible idiots putting other lives at risk and to a certain extent she agreed with him. She’d also promised to get detailed plans of their climb each day so she could alert the search and rescue team in the event of the party not turning up in the evening.
But before they arrived, it was Christmas, and Zack had been right: nowhere did Christmas like Severton. She heard Christmas carols being rehearsed as she passed the scout hut, a deep baritone adding layers to the music. Three of the telephone boxes had been painted with Christmas scenes by the phantom artist. No one knew who was responsible, but the post boxes and telephone boxes were sprayed regularly with pictures.
Outside the next house was a tall, older woman helping three familiar children put Santa Stop Here signs into the ground.
Sadie Grace was asking twenty questions, not leaving room in between for anyone to give an answer. Her two brothers looked as if they were ready to plant her in the ground along with one of the signs.
“Sorrell!” Sadie’s little voice called out. “Do Santa’s reindeer eat chocolate buttons? I told Daddy they only ate carrots but my brothers are telling me I have to save all my chocolate buttons for them on Christmas Eve.”
Sorrell eyed the two boys who had the decency to look sheepish. “Did your brothers promise to look after your buttons until then as well?” she said, raising her brows.
Sadie Grace nodded. “They said they’d keep them safe with theirs.” She looked at Sorrell and realisation dawned on her, the lights on the large tree in the garden coming on at the same time. “You!” she yelled and started to beat her fists on the nearest brother.
The lady looking after them shook her head and ignored them, giving Sorrell a look. “They deserve what they’re about to get,” she said. “I should stop and intervene, but…” She shrugged.
Sorrell nodded. “I totally agree.” She watched the two brothers try to avoid the little girl punches. They weren’t being properly hurt, just casting her a guilty look every two or three hits.
“That should learn you!” Sadie Grace said, finally putting her hands on her hips. “As punishment when the snow comes, you’re going to help me build the biggest snowman and pull me on a sleigh for a whole day!”
“We will,” one of the boys said. “And we’ll give you our buttons too.”
The other brother screwed his face up but then gave his sister a hug.
Sorrell started to walk on by, needing to hit the post office to send presents to her sister and nephew and have time to get home and be ready for her day date with Zack.
She should’ve been getting married today. Six weeks ago, she’d been dreading this date. This morning she’d woken up early enough to have breakfast just before the guests. She’d updated the website with more pictures and information about Severton. She’d placed the orders for the next week with Jake and a couple of other farms. She’d restocked the bar and chatted with a couple of the guests who had booked a return visit before their current one had even finished. Then she’d wrapped the presents and headed off to see Gran in her natural habitat so that she’d be ready for when Zack came to pick her up at noon.
“Good morning, Sorrell.” The voice that came from near the counter belied the woman’s age. It was melodious enough to have served in the choir that was rehearsing, but contained enough wisdom to dictate its own holy book.
“Good morning, Gran,” Sorrell said, a little tentatively. The woman was a legend, a living one, one known to take no prisoners. Instead she left their carcasses out for the crows.
“All set for your date with Zack?” Gran said, taking the bag with the parcels in without hesitating.
Sorrell’s pause was answer enough.
“It’s Severton, dear. A Maynard going on a date is headline news.” She gave Sorrell a knowing look. “Jake Maynard dropping a woman off at the train station without knowing her surname is not.”
Sorrell laughed. Jake’s reputation was bigger than him and she did think it had been exaggerated. That was until she saw him leave Scott’s bar with two girls, his arms around both of them. And he was sober. At eight in the evening.
“You know them well.” Sorrell watched the woman as she busied about her counter, tidying and organising, continually moving.
