Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,1

involved with another man after her recent break-up.

Molly persuaded Terry to persevere. Not that he needed any persuasion; just a bit of sisterly support and encouragement.

At first he’d offered Sarah friendship and they had met for coffee once or twice a week. After a month or two, Terry reported to Molly that he and Sarah were meeting for the occasional evening drink. They progressed from there to casual dinners every now and then but Sarah still seemed reluctant to commit to anything more than friendship.

Whenever Molly stayed with Terry, Sarah also spent the entire weekend with them and it was clear that Sarah and Terry should be together. Molly was determined to make it happen and, by that Christmas Eve, when Molly finally managed to get them both beneath the mistletoe after several failed attempts, it was obvious to everyone, including the couple themselves that the kiss was going to be the first of many.

They’d started dating the following day and Terry asked Sarah to move in with him two years later.

‘You’re here!’

Terry flung the door open, with a smile, and stated the obvious. Molly could always count on her brother to do that.

‘Yes I am,’ she replied, laughing as Terry leant forward to kiss her on the cheek, his ginger fringe flopping across his face.

‘Er. Hold on.’ He shoved his hair back from his eyes and glanced down at the bedraggled bundle of tan and fawn fur sitting on the doorstep beside Molly. ‘That’s a dog.’

‘Well spotted, Sherlock. I can’t get anything past you, can I?’

Terry furrowed dark copper brows and rubbed his stubbled chin between his thumb and forefinger.

‘Why have you got a dog? When Belter died, you said you’d never get a dog again because losing him broke your heart.’

‘That’s true. I did. But I was twelve at the time. And I haven’t got a dog. This one’s not mine. I’m just looking after him for Christmas.’

Terry looked sceptical.

‘You’re looking after someone else’s dog for Christmas?’

‘In a manner of speaking. Do we have to have this conversation on the doorstep? It may have escaped your deductive powers, but it’s just started snowing and it’s cold out here. Miracle needs to be in the warm. And not just Miracle, I might add. The heating’s playing up in my car again and it was distinctly frosty for the last few miles.’

‘Miracle?’

‘The dog. I’ve named him Miracle. Because it was a miracle I found him and a miracle he’s alive.’

‘Right. Er. I’m sure you’ll explain all that later, but the thing is, Molly, Sarah’s allergic to dogs. Surely you remember that?’

‘Damn!’

How could she have forgotten? Sarah would cross the road to avoid an oncoming dog. It wasn’t that she didn’t like dogs. She did. But if she got within two feet of one, she’d break out in hives and her eyes and nose would run.

It wasn’t a pretty sight.

Both Molly and Terry had witnessed it when Terry’s good friend, Chance Warren had met them all for coffee one morning, over four years ago now. It was a couple of months after Molly and Sarah had met, and a few months before Terry and Sarah had started dating. Chance had brought his mum’s new Olde English Sheepdog puppy, Beauty with him. He’d got it for her as a birthday present.

Sarah, it transpired, hadn’t wanted to be rude, so she hadn’t mentioned her allergy but within a matter of minutes, the poor girl was a mess.

Chance had done the decent thing and left immediately, much to Molly’s disappointment. She’d only seen him a few times since he’d moved back to America with his dad about twenty years earlier, and each time he had looked better than the last.

Molly had had a massive crush on him when he’d been the good-looking, strapping six-foot teenager who’d lived a couple of streets away and that crush had only intensified as Chance had grown into an extremely handsome man.

His chestnut hair seemed richer and darker, his blue eyes more intense and his lopsided smile was definitely sexier.

She’d always thought – or hoped – that one day something might happen between them, but for some reason it never had. Over the years, whenever Chance came to visit his mum, either Molly had a boyfriend or Chance had a girlfriend, but on that particular occasion, both it seemed, were unattached and Molly had high hopes.

But once again, it wasn’t to be. She was leaving the next day and so was Chance, Terry had informed her.

She could still remember