Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,32

the calls. Chance kept forgetting.

But it was difficult to remember he had to call his girlfriend when he had so much else on his mind. Like getting the cottage finished without Jolene finding out what he was planning. And being anxious about a stray dog that had come into his life. And worrying about his mum even though she seemed happier than she had been in a long, long time.

And then there was the time difference. Remembering that New York was five hours behind was a bit of a pain, especially at ten o’clock at night when all he wanted to do was have a shower, clean his teeth and go to bed.

But even that wasn’t true. Since Friday, all he thought about at ten o’clock each night was Molly sleeping in the bed just two doors away from his room.

How had he let this happen? How had he become so involved with Molly? And he was involved, whether he liked it or not.

I mean Jesus Christ, he’d even offered to adopt Miracle, and the last thing he needed was some crazy, out of control dog nipping at his heels.

But the truth was, he was falling in love with the damn dog almost as fast as he was falling in love with Molly.

Shit! Falling in love with Molly? How could that be the case? He’d known her for most of his life. Why in hell would he be falling in love with her now? Surely it was just lust? Or because of the situation? Surely this couldn’t be real?

No. It was just because they were doing up the cottage. It felt as if they were planning their home together and they weren’t. Wishing Well Cottage wasn’t Molly’s home and it never would be.

So why did he see her image in every room whenever he walked into it? Or hear her laughter in the wind outside?

Because he was clearly losing his mind. That’s why.

He was not falling in love with Molly Ford.

He wasn’t.

He couldn’t be.

It wasn’t possible.

It was because of the season.

There was magic in the air.

At least there was whenever Molly was nearby.

Or even in his thoughts.

Which she seemed to be all the time.

Nope. He wasn’t falling in love with Molly. It was just because it was Christmas. And Christmas was the time to be with those you loved.

Except he didn’t love Molly. He loved Jolene. He needed to remind himself of that. And there was no better time to start than the present.

In spite of the time difference, he would video-call Jolene.

He told his mum and Molly that he was going to take a shower, and he skulked off to his room.

‘Chance? Honey, is that you? What time is it? Has something bad happened?’

Jolene looked beautiful. Stunningly so. Especially in that low-cut, see-through negligee.

And yet he’d been far more turned on when he’d seen Molly in her polar bear PJs and had glimpsed her breast for the merest second.

‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have called. It must be about three in the morning there. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I just … I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.’

‘Aww, honey. That’s so sweet. I miss you too.’

‘It’s snowing heavily here. What’s it’s like in New York?’

‘Snowing. And it’s bad. There hasn’t been snowfall like this for an age.’

‘Same here. The authorities are advising people not to travel unless it’s an emergency.’

She peered at the screen. ‘Are you telling me I shouldn’t come over?’

‘What? No. No, I’m not saying anything of the sort. Of course you should come over. You must. In fact the sooner you’re here the better. I need you here.’

‘Honey! You know what? I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said.’

‘The nicest thing? Oh come on. I’ve said nicer things than that.’

Hadn’t he? They’d dated for almost a year. He must’ve done.

She shook her head. Her laughter didn’t sound as cheery as Molly’s laugh.

‘Na-uh.’ She suddenly grew serious. ‘You’ve never even said you love me.’

Chance swallowed. Hard. Tiny beads of sweat prickled his skin. His heart beat a little quicker.

He’d never said he loved her? Could that be right? Was that true?

He took a second to think and realised Jolene was right. He hadn’t said those words.

Not once.

And yet he was planning to propose to her in ten days’ time.

Now would be a good time to say it.

‘You’ve never said you loved me either.’

She sighed and sadness filled her eyes.

‘I have, honey. More than once. You’ve just never said it back.’

‘Really? Shit! I’m sorry. Well, I’m saying