Page 50 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Do you want me to take them away?’

Avery swallowed. ‘I’m trying …’ his words faded as Clifton padded up to him and, after taking a step back, then staring at the small dog for several seconds, he bent over and held his hand out, and Clifton sniffed it.

‘Progress,’ Daisy murmured, but she still called the other dogs and walked them into the hall and, once Clifton had followed, went back into the lounge and closed the door with a snick. ‘OK?’ she asked.

‘Great.’ Avery was back to beaming. ‘Maybe Harry was right, and that doing it in increments will work?’

‘Did you have a horrible encounter with a dog when you were little?’

Avery rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Yeah. There was one next door that …’ He shook his head. ‘Never mind.’

Daisy peered at him, looking for signs that he wasn’t as composed as he was pretending to be. She’d lain awake the night before, thinking of what Jazz had said, worrying it over and wondering why, if he was in some sort of trouble, a man as confident as Avery hadn’t told anyone about it. But she was about to be busted for looking like a total weirdo, so she snapped out of it. ‘Do you want a drink?’

‘No, I’m good. I can’t stay long. I just came to show you these.’ He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, and Daisy walked over to him. The sun cast his tanned face in a soft glow, his stubble glinting, and she wanted to kiss him so badly. She wanted to kiss him and crack him open, pull out all his secrets, offer him any help he needed.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘I went upstairs in the house. I know it’s not the same as being there, but I thought it would help you with your plans.’

‘Oh. Great.’ She peered at the screen as he scrolled through the photos, revealing the upstairs of Mary and Winnie’s house, the wide windows that looked out on the fields and forest, the tall gable ends that would be so striking once the glass had been installed and the walls had been painted. ‘This is … it’s so hard to see the proportions properly.’

‘Ungrateful much?’ He said it lightly. ‘I know. But it’s not safe to go up there yet.’

‘You did.’

‘I’m the foreman.’

‘I’ve been on plenty of building sites. I know which rules to follow.’

‘Except, it seems, the one where I tell you that you can’t go up there yet because it’s not safe.’

‘Avery.’

‘Daisy.’ He slid his phone in his pocket and faced her. ‘I promise, when it’s ready, I will take you up there. A week, maybe ten days. OK?’

‘Fine.’ She folded her arms. ‘Thank you for showing me the photos.’

He laughed. ‘Thank you for that grudging thank you.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. He seemed perfectly fine. Maybe Jazz was imagining things? Maybe she was. ‘What are you doing now?’ She wanted to run a finger along his forearm, feel his warm skin and the tickle of his hairs, but she didn’t know what the rules were. The Avery rules, rather than the site rules.

‘Going back to the house. How did ball planning go?’

‘Good.’ She gestured to the piles of paper chains, the only evidence that they’d got anywhere.

‘That is a good with a caveat,’ Avery said.

‘It doesn’t seem … impressive enough. For this room. For what I want to achieve.’

‘What do you want to achieve?’

‘The best Christmas ball Mistingham has ever seen.’

‘I think it’s going to be the only ball Mistingham’s seen – for at least the last hundred years, anyway.’

‘Don’t you think we could do something special here?’ She strode to the back of the room, the space in front of the windows. The huge Christmas tree was to the left, and there was a long cherrywood table that her dad had loved. Right now it had several piles of books on it, a couple of framed photographs. But move it out of the way, and it was the perfect place for some sort of display. ‘When Harry and Sophie got married, this was where the celebrant – Winnie – stood, on a little stage. So I think …’

‘The band? Musicians or sound system?’