Page 42 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Sure.’

She stayed in Mary and Winnie’s future kitchen, watching a glossy pheasant stalk through the field opposite, a smudge of russet in the gloom. And, as she waited, the mizzle turned into proper rain, the steady patter a sound she loved. Being in this inside-outside place gave her a vivid flashback to a camping trip she’d gone on with her mum and dad, when she and Harry were both little. It had probably been the bottom of the parkland, not even outside the grounds of the manor.

She remembered the sound of the raindrops hitting canvas, lying in her sleeping bag, the light tinged green as it fell on Harry, asleep beside her in his sleeping bag. She had wondered how it could be so bright and raining all at once, and whether, if she was brave enough to get up and leave the tent on her own, she would find a rainbow. But she hadn’t been brave enough, so she never found out.

‘Here we go.’ Avery was carrying a roll of paper that she recognized as house plans. ‘I don’t think they got too wet.’ He strode over to a large workbench, moved a couple of things out of the way and unrolled the plans. Daisy put her hand on the corner to stop them rolling back up.

‘This is the upstairs.’ He stood next to her, so they could both see, and Daisy’s mind emptied of colour palettes and kitchen arrangements and childhood memories. It emptied apart from the awareness of Avery’s arm grazing lightly against hers, her bare forearm tingling where it met his; it emptied apart from the low reverberation of his voice, and how it scraped over her nerve endings, like he was a match and she was the striking surface. She could smell his sea-fresh scent, some aftershave that promised clean, linen vibes and the ocean breeze on a spring day, and how it mingled with the heady smell of the rain pattering around them.

‘What do you think?’ Avery asked.

What Daisy thought was that she wanted to be even closer. She hadn’t taken in any of the details of the upstairs. She couldn’t stand in it yet: she couldn’t see and breathe in the spaces. But she could see, she was breathing in Avery.

‘I saw you,’ she said instead. ‘Yesterday. In Norwich.’

She felt him tense beside her, and she knew. She knew in her bones that there was something off about it, that she wasn’t inventing it. ‘Oh?’ He did a good job of sounding nonchalant, but still.

‘I had a meeting with Lars. Sophie was getting stuff for the ball.’

‘What stuff?’

‘You want me to spill my secrets?’ She wanted him to spill his.

‘I’m not going to steal them for my treasure hunt. They’re totally different things – apart from your paper-chain idea. I love that one.’

‘Is that what you were getting in Norwich? Paper chains?’

‘I was catching up with a friend.’

Behind a black door? A friend who makes you tense up like you’re about to go on trial? She couldn’t say those things though, because they would sound ridiculous. ‘Have a nice time?’

‘The loveliest,’ he said, and she couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic. ‘How did it go with Lars?’ he asked her.

‘It was fine. I’m narrowing down the contractors, then we can get a timeline locked in.’

‘Locked in? That’s not a very Daisy thing to say.’

‘You don’t think so?’

He turned to face her, so she did the same, and without their hands acting as weights, the plans rolled up in a snap, then careened off the workbench and onto the floor. Avery didn’t even glance at them.

‘I don’t think you say things like locked in.’

‘I just did, so you’re clearly wrong.’

Avery’s eyes dropped to her lips. ‘How did it really go with Lars?’

‘How did it really go with your friend?’

‘What did you see, exactly?’

Daisy sucked in a breath. He was calling her out on her word choice, so she could call him out on his demeanour. It was only fair. ‘I saw you standing outside a black door, near Jarrolds. You looked as if you were having an internal debate. You were all …’ She hunched her shoulders, and her hat tipped sideways because it was too big for her to begin with.

Avery adjusted it for her. ‘I hadn’t seen him for a while, that’s all. What about Lars?’

‘Lars wants to take me to dinner.’

‘Do you want to go?’ Avery stepped forwards, and Daisy moved backwards, not because she wanted to, but because there was an internal voice screaming about self-preservation. Save yourself from this man! Once you have indulged, there will be no going back!