Page 53 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

Daisy stood up straighter. She’d always used the confidence trick – go into a situation with absolute conviction, and people will believe you. It had worked so many times in the past, and was a foundation of the way she operated, because if you believed in yourself, then other people would, too. Apparently it didn’t work with Avery’s team, and what did that say about them? That they were trained in bullshit and knew how to spot it a mile off.

‘I could stay on the top of the ladder,’ she tried. ‘See it from that vantage point. Omari? What are you doing?’ Her pulse skyrocketed when she saw he had his phone pressed to his ear, holding a finger up in the universal ‘wait’ gesture.

‘Hi, boss,’ he said. ‘Daisy’s here, saying you approved her going on the first floor?’ His face remained impassive as he listened to Avery’s reply, and Daisy shrank back. She wondered if she should run away. ‘No worries,’ he said eventually. ‘See you soon.’ He hung up. ‘Avery is five minutes away. He’ll talk to you when he gets here.’

Shit. ‘Maybe I should come back later.’ She went to turn away, but Omari tapped her on the shoulder.

‘He wants to talk to you.’

‘OK.’ She smiled, her nerves vibrating at the thought of seeing him, of what he would say now she had tried to disobey his order. Her palms were sweaty, so she folded her arms tightly across her chest.

Kyle and Omari stayed where they were, denying her entrance to the house, and she kept smiling, the entire situation excruciating. Then she heard a vehicle approaching, the dulcet tones of Oasis’s ‘Don’t Look Back in Anger’, and tried not to roll her eyes. The song was too on the nose for this moment. She didn’t turn around, didn’t look back, just waited while the engine cut off. She heard the door open, and then slam. And it was a proper slam.

‘Boss?’ Omari said, and Daisy saw his smile flicker and die, replaced with confusion. ‘OK, boss?’

‘Fine,’ Avery said. ‘Go back to work. I’ll speak to Daisy.’

‘You sure?’ Kyle said. ‘Are you all righ—?’

‘Guys,’ Avery cut in. ‘Please.’

They nodded and, exchanging a look, went back to whichever bit of the house they were working on.

Daisy finally turned around.

‘You were trying to get in there when I told you it wasn’t safe?’ Avery’s words were clipped, but Daisy hardly took them in, because she was too busy staring at him. At the way his black hoody made him look paler than usual, at the deep frown lines between his brows and, mostly, at the point on his cheekbone that was rosy-pink tinged with purple, the bruise darkening almost before her eyes.

‘Avery, what happened?’

He shook his head. ‘I told you the upstairs of the house isn’t safe. I didn’t say that because I felt like it.’

‘Avery, I—’ She reached a hand up, and he flinched away from her before she could touch him. ‘You’re hurt.’

‘I’m fine. I’m just pissed off that you would come here, try to go behind my back.’

Daisy didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t take her gaze from his face, panic welling up inside her at the realization that Jazz had been right, that he was in genuine trouble.

‘Daisy?’

‘I’m sorry, OK? I’m trying to finish my proposal for Winnie and Mary, and it’s so hard when I can’t see it from up there. The views or—’

‘And what if you’d got hurt?’ His gaze was fiery in a way she’d never seen before. ‘What if you’d tricked the guys into letting you up there, and something had happened to you? What if you’d fallen, or been hit by debris? You think I would have been able to forgive myself?’

‘I’ve been on loads of sites.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re not listening to me. It’s not safe. You shouldn’t have come.’

‘Fine.’ She squared up to him. ‘You care about me? About whether I get hurt?’

‘Of course I do. Why would you ask me that?’

‘So let me care about you, too.’

He turned away, pulling open the side of his van.

‘Avery.’ She followed him, stood behind him while he burrowed in the back, muttering to himself. The music had moved onto Celine Dion’s ‘Titanic’ ballad, and it stalled her thoughts because she had loved this song, had played it over and over, letting herself feel all her teenage angst. She pushed the memories away. ‘Avery, I’m talking to you.’

‘I have to get on.’ His words were muffled as he rifled through his tools. ‘You need to go.’