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Mumbling her thanks, Frankie took the gloves and bolted back out the door, into the blessed cold air… and practically slammed into Jay.

‘Did you get them?’ he asked.

‘Uh-huh. Yeah…’ Had he been waiting on her?

‘Do you fancy going for a drink?’

Frankie’s cheeks were on fire from the heat in the gift shop, and she hoped that would hide the deep blush she could feel creeping up her neck and face.

His smile faltered slightly. ‘Only if you don’t have⁠—’

‘I’d love to,’ she gushed, then checked herself, mortified in case she sounded pathetically eager.

But Jay didn’t seem to notice. He grinned. ‘Brill, come on then.’

Frankie followed Jay’s lead, unsure of what kind of “drink” he meant. A coffee? Juice? Something stronger? They walked past the coffee shop and it became obvious they were heading toward the Drumkeldy Arms. They were going for a drink drink.

The interior of the hotel was very Christmassy, with a large tree adorned with sparkling fairy lights in the reception area and stretches of tinsel wound around the desk and banister, leading up to the first-floor bedrooms. Jay and Frankie said hello to the staff milling about as they bypassed the lounge area and headed on through to Piper’s Bar.

Frankie loved this back bar, with its dark wood and tartan upholstery. Slightly more rustic in décor compared to the rest of the hotel, brass horseshoes and bagpipe accoutrements were nailed to the wall alongside black-and-white photos of Drumkeldy, dating back to the late nineteenth century.

They headed over to one of the little booths. It felt secluded and private and was invitingly cosy, thanks to the open fire that blazed merrily at the far end of the bar.

Frankie pulled off her hat and to her dismay, felt the static crackle. ‘I have serious hat hair, don’t I?’

Jay tried to keep a straight face. ‘Would it make you feel better if I said no?’

Frankie swept her long hair up into a loose bun which she secured in place with a pen she plucked from her bag.

‘Nice. Can you do the same for me?’ Jay said. He’d removed his ear muffs and his hair also floated wildly around his head.

‘I can do better than a biro!’ Frankie rummaged in the bag of presents and removed the spare piece of ribbon. She leant over and taking the front section of Jay’s hair, tied it in a bow on the top of his head.

‘I’m going to look like one of those Old English Sheepdogs, whose owner keeps their hair out of their eyes!’ he wailed good-naturedly.

Frankie cocked her head to the side, studying him. ‘I’d say more a Maltese terrier.’

‘Oh God! That’s those tiny toy dogs! That’s so much worse.’ Jay laughed but didn’t remove the ribbon. ‘I might keep the look. Mum’s convinced I’ll get a squint with my hair being so long at the front and falling over my eyes. She wants me to get a sensible haircut.’

‘Don’t. I love your hair,’ Frankie wailed then tried to backtrack from her enthusiasm. ‘Sorry, don’t keep it just because I like it. What I mean is… I think it suits you. Like that. It’s cool.’

‘With the ribbon?’ Jay deadpanned.

‘Especially with the ribbon.’ They stood looking at each other, Frankie aware of how close she was standing to him. Jay gently bit his lower lip and Frankie’s heart hammered wildly in her chest as she imagined what his lips would be like to kiss.

‘What are you drinking?’ Jay asked.

‘Vodka and Coke, please.’

Jay went up to the bar while Frankie slid behind the table and sat.

What was happening to her? Why was she suddenly acting so awkwardly around Jay? She realised she was staring at him as he stood at the bar, feeling that strange flip-flopping sensation in her stomach again.

Jay returned a moment later with her drink and a bottle of beer for himself.

‘How are the pups?’ he asked, sitting opposite her.

‘They’re brilliant! Bella is an amazing mum. Are you sure you won’t have one?’