Page 65 of The Secret Holiday Kiss

‘Of course!’

‘You don’t sound that pleased.’

‘Oh no, I am. I’m just tired.’

‘But you’re off to the pub?’

‘Just meeting … some people.’

Harry glanced over at her. ‘Some people. Illuminating.’

‘It’s not a massive secret or anything.’

‘So who is it?’

Daisy took out her phone, pretending she had an important message waiting instead of the latest digital issue of Interior Design Monthly. ‘Avery,’ she said casually.

‘Really.’ Harry’s tone suggested she hadn’t been casual at all.

But he didn’t ask her anything else, just made her take a torch when she turned down his offer of a lift to the pub, saying she’d be glad of the walk. She didn’t have a chance to change, but she touched up her blusher and mascara, added shiny pink lip gloss, took out her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair.

Mistingham was under a dark cloak; the temperature had dropped and walking along the gravel drive sounded as if she was crunching over fresh snow. By the time she reached the Blossom Bough, her cheeks were tight from the cold and her nose was tingling.

The pub was warm and welcoming, busier than she would have anticipated on a Monday night, and it took her two sweeps of the interior to spot Avery, who was at a table in the far corner, near the life-sized cutout of Elvis Presley that the landlady, Natasha, insisted on having up. Swags of red and green tinsel were draped around Elvis’s neck and over picture frames, and a real Christmas tree in the corner had an overabundance of lights, multicoloured and silver strings, along with mini cracker decorations. The fire glowed in the hearth, and the air held the fruity, spicy scent of mulled wine.

‘Has he been keeping you company?’ she asked, pointing to Elvis as Avery stood up to greet her, pressing his warm lips against her cold cheeks, his sea-salt scent stronger tonight. Daisy usually kept her salt intake low, but he looked delicious in a burgundy knitted jumper and dark jeans, his hair mussed and his stubble golden in the firelight.

‘Uh huh,’ Avery said, his Elvis impression excellent, and she laughed. ‘Glad you didn’t get stuck in the middle of nowhere for too long.’

‘It was just a signal issue and they solved it quickly.’

‘Good. What can I get you to drink?’

‘A red wine please.’ She watched as he walked to the bar, leaned his forearms on it and caught Natasha’s eye.

‘How’s your flat?’ he asked, once they had their drinks, their knees brushing under the table.

‘It’s good.’ She tried to inject more enthusiasm into her voice than she had with Harry. ‘Only a few weeks from being done.’

Avery took a long sip of beer. ‘That’s great news. Did you pick up anything for your ball?’

Daisy thought of the beautiful dress now on a hanger in her room. ‘I did, but I can’t tell you what. How are the sculptures going?’

‘I have five finished, five in progress. I’m getting a fair bit of help from Kyle and Omari, but it’s outside site hours in case you were planning on telling Mary and Winnie.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it. I play fair, not dirty. And I can’t wait to see them.’

‘You’ll have to find them along with everyone else.’

‘I can’t wait to find them, then.’ Avery brushed his knee against hers, the movement surely deliberate. ‘Now we’re here, not distracted by anything else, I want to know why you’re scared of dogs. You mentioned your neighbour had one when you were little. Was it Baskervillesque?’

Avery turned his beer glass around on the mat. ‘It wasn’t so much the dog as his attitude.’

‘It must have been a really bad attitude if you’re still afraid of them.’

He looked up at her. ‘Not the biggest fan, rather than afraid.’

Daisy raised an eyebrow.