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“They will,” Lucy reassured him, a lump in her throat. She swallowed. “So, what kind of things would you like to do?”

“Um, I don’t know. A lot of the Christmas stuff I’ve seen was just in movies, you know.”

“What stuff?”

“Like Christmas baking.” He looked embarrassed. “You know, like sugar cookies.”

“We can do that,” Lucy said. “As long as you handle any butter. What else?”

“A Christmas movie night, where we eat the stuff we baked and drink hot chocolates.”

“Completely doable.”

“And a proper Christmas tree,” said Dylan, warming to the topic.

“Seriously? But the needles get everywhere!”

“I’ve never had a proper Christmas and you’d deny me this?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. Fine,” Lucy agreed. “But you’re the one who’s going to be hoovering every day until New Year’s.”

“That’s fine by me.”

“Is there anything else?”

“A Christmas shopping day where we go to buy all the presents we haven’t picked up yet.”

“OK, that one would actually be useful because I’ve got a lot still to buy.”

“I can take the day off next Thursday? We could go to Plymouth? Get it all done in one go?”

“I’ll see if Jo and Ellen can cover for me,” she said, reaching for her phone.

Both Jo and Ellen were happy to look after the coffee shop. In fact, they seemed thrilled to do so, when they heard what Lucy and Dylan had planned. It seemed that Dylan could do no wrong and anything that brought the two of them together should be encouraged. How did Dylan manage to wrap everyone around his little finger? Including her, it sometimes seemed.

Chapter 17

“What’s the first thing on your list of Christmassy things to do then?” Lucy asked, as Dylan handed her a slice of jam toast the next morning and she gave him a coffee.

“I’m not sure,” Dylan said, looking thoughtful.

“Well, I’m free this evening if there’s something that can be fitted in then,” Lucy said.

“Great, that would be good. I’m actually going to need to go away for a couple of days. A company I do some occasional work for needs me on site in London. I’ll head off early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh right. When will you be back?” Lucy found herself asking, cross at herself for the way her heart sank at the news.

“Friday,” Dylan said lightly, “but not until the evening. You’ll get your home back to yourself for a bit.”

“The bathroom floor will be towel free,” Lucy commented, lightly.

“Enjoy it while you can, because I’ll be back before you know it,” said Dylan.

Lucy found she was in a funny mood after Dylan’s announcement, though she was reluctant to put it down to the fact that she’d miss him when he was away. She was frustrated with herself that she’d started to rely on him so much. She’d been perfectly fine before he’d come along and shoved his way into her life (well, apart from pregnancy making her feel dreadful, but that was fifty per cent his fault anyway). Of course, she could manage perfectly well without him around. It would be nice to have the place to herself. She could . . . well, she was sure there were plenty of things she could do that she couldn’t when he was around. Not watch Downton Abbey, of course, because then it would be annoying when he had to catch up. Though maybe Dylan would watch some when he was away.

She took over the toasties she’d been preparing to a couple sitting by the window and went over to Dylan who was working at the table in the corner as usual. “Hey,” he said, looking up from his laptop. “What can I do for you?”

“When you’re away, are you going to watch Downton Abbey? Like, if there’s Netflix in your hotel room?”