Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,26

her.

‘No problem,’ he replied, moving his hand a fraction closer to her breast before whipping it away and pushing himself – and Molly, to a sitting position.

She thought her head might explode. She had wanted so much for him to touch her breast. To caress her. To kiss her. And she’d had to tell herself not to leave her hand on his crotch.

‘Okay,’ she said, jumping to her feet. ‘That was fun. But now I think it’s time we went home. Do you need help getting up? I know you’re so much older than me.’

‘Watch it,’ he said, standing in one fluid move.

They walked on in silence once again, each smiling shyly when caught in the process of a surreptitious glance at the other. Molly was relieved when they reached Vicky’s door ... until she spotted the huge bunch of mistletoe hanging in the porch. That hadn’t been there this morning.

Chance stopped in his tracks a few feet from the porch and glanced around as if he were lost.

‘Er. I think I dropped my phone in the snow just now. You go in without me. I’ll only be a second.’

He dashed off before she had a chance to respond but she knew he was lying. He’d obviously seen the mistletoe too and had made that up to avoid a potentially embarrassing situation for them both.

Was that because he didn’t want to kiss her?

Or because he did want to but knew he shouldn’t?

He did, after all, have a soon-to-be fiancée.

But surely a kiss under the mistletoe wouldn’t do any harm? And it wouldn’t be cheating. It was simply tradition.

Except Molly knew that wasn’t true.

It might do a lot of harm. And if Chance was feeling half of what she was, it would definitely be cheating, and might lead to so much more.

She must make a mental note. Mistletoe must be avoided at all costs. She must use the back door from now on.

Fourteen

Sunday morning brought pale lemon sunshine in through the chinks of the purple curtains in the guest room Molly occupied.

In spite of the fact that she loved snow, she was pleased to see the sun this morning. Today was the Sunday Christmas Market in Easterhill and Molly had promised to help Sarah man her stall.

Not that it would have mattered that much if the snow had continued. The Christmas Market was under cover as it was held in the middle of the shopping centre arcade. Molly had joked that if it had been outside, Sarah would’ve been on her own. But they both knew that wasn’t true. Molly would happily stand in wind, rain or snow to help her friend. Well, maybe not happily, but she’d do it.

The only problem was, these plans had been made prior to Miracle entering Molly’s life.

Over fish and chips last night, Sarah had mentioned the market stall, and Molly had explained the situation to Chance.

‘Not a problem,’ he had said. ‘Either Mum or I’ll take care of Miracle for the day.’

‘I can’t ask either of you to do that,’ Molly had said. ‘You both took turns in looking after him today.’

‘You didn’t ask. I offered,’ Chance had replied.

‘Aren’t you forgetting he tried to drown you?’

Chance had grinned. ‘I’ll have an opportunity to get my own back tomorrow.’

Molly had decided not to argue. She’d find a way to repay Chance and Vicky for their kindness.

This morning she hoped Chance was still in the same frame of mind, although there was no reason why he wouldn’t be.

When they’d got in last night – Molly, a few minutes before Chance – Vicky was sitting in her loveseat beside a roaring fire, with Beauty snuggled on her lap. Miracle had draped himself along the back of the seat and his head was resting on Vicky’s shoulder. She was reading out loud and it really looked as if Miracle and Beauty were listening intently to the story. All three of them were wearing Santa hats, and neither dog seemed bothered. It was such an adorable scene that Molly had taken a photo.

The strange thing was, in that split second, Molly had remembered that Miracle was a stray. And it hit her in her gut so hard that for a moment, she felt physically sick. Miracle didn’t belong to her. She was only looking after him for Christmas. When the holidays were over, she’d be going back to Bristol and Asher would, hopefully, have found a place in a shelter for the dog.

But why did that bother her? He’d