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‘I know,’ he said easily. ‘I’m just saying – last night was fun. That’s it. No pressure, no drama. Just a bit of fun.’

No drama. Brilliant. Love that for him.

‘Right,’ I said, nodding like I fully agreed and wasn’t suddenly a bit offended for absolutely no sane reason. ‘Good. Same page then.’

‘Same page, pal.’ He grinned. God, he was smug, relaxed and utterly unbothered. I wanted to knock that expression clean right off his perfect face.

‘Great,’ I said brightly. ‘Well . . . Lovely chat. Very . . . clarifying.’

‘Glad we had it,’ he said, still far too amused.

What a fucking prick. So much for not wanting to hurt him.

‘I wanted to speak to you about today,’ he went on, like he hadn’t just casually humbled me. ‘I spoke to the girl who runs the playgroup, and she’s more than happy for us to use the supplies for crafts in here. Thought you might want to help with the kids. Make decorations. Glue things to other things. Junk modelling, she called it. The usual.’

I blinked. ‘I’d love that,’ I said, the shift in tone catching me off guard.

‘Great,’ he said. ‘I’ll send a text to the parents. Gives them an hour’s peace, lets the kids do something nice since Christmas is coming up.’

I nodded, feeling something soft settle in my chest.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Really.’

He shrugged. ‘No bother.’

I turned for the door. ‘I’ll go see what we’ve actually got to work with.’

‘Aye, go on,’ he said. My hand was on the door when he added, ‘But don’t think of this as a promotion given out just because I’ve seen your tits. Last thing I need is Mags flashing me in hope of a bigger ladle.’

I snorted despite myself, glancing back over my shoulder.

‘Noted,’ I said. ‘But for the record . . . You saw a lot more than my tits, Jamie.’

He grinned widely.

I rolled my eyes and stepped out into the hall, smiling to myself at the memory of his hands, his tongue on me.

Chapter Twenty-One

I spent the afternoon setting up my section of the hall with the small tables and chairs from the weekend playgroup session. I sat scissors, pens, crayons and paper all in the middle, ready for a night of crafting fun. And when the doors burst open, about ten kids all ran in, excited to play with their friends.

‘Good afternoon, my gorgeous friends,’ I said almost automatically, snapping into my influencer voice.

‘What?’ one rosy-cheeked girl replied in utter confusion.

‘Why do you have a funny accent?’ said another.

‘Ehh . . . So, hi. We’re making Christmas decorations today. Stars, snowmen, reindeer – whatever you fancy,’ I deflected.

Lucy’s son Rory stood at the front and raised his hand. ‘Can I make a dinosaur?’

I paused. ‘A festive dinosaur? Why not? You could stick a Santa hat on him.’

He nodded happily.

‘Then yes! Go for it,’ I said, laughing. Creative freedom. That was my approach tonight.

After a few minutes, things settled and the kids sat down to gather their equipment and start to make their ideas a reality. Snipping, glueing and sticking.