Just for Christmas - Emily Harvale Page 0,45

years ago. The last Christmas before her mum and dad had died, eight months later, in a plane crash in the twin-propped light aircraft that they had clubbed together to buy as a joint present for each other that year because they both loved flying.

The photo was taken in the snow-covered garden of their former, family home, and it was of her mum, dad, Terry and herself. And Chance stood between her and Terry, and she noticed now, he was holding her hand. And her Golden Retriever, Belter was there too, sitting in front of her wearing a Santa hat on his head and a sparkly pink bow tie on his collar. Her beloved dog had also died the following year.

‘I hope the photo hasn’t upset you, Molly,’ Chance was saying, his voice anxious and tender.

She looked into his eyes despite her tears.

‘Absolutely not! Oh, Chance. It’s made me so happy I think I might have to cry with joy. I loved this photo. Most of ours got lost when the house was sold and we moved in with our aunt and uncle. I didn’t know you had a copy. This is the best present I’ve ever had. Honestly. I truly mean that. I can’t believe you’ve done this for me.’

She jumped up and hugged and kissed him without even thinking. It wasn’t a proper kiss, but she did kiss him on the mouth and when she realised what she’d done, she sat back down and cuddled the snow globe to her heart, smiling sheepishly at Vicky.

Now the present she’d bought for him, which he was about to open, paled in comparison.

But the massive smile on his face and the pure joy in his eyes comforted her.

‘I don’t believe it, Molly! It’s as if we both had the same memory. I love this. Thank you doesn’t cover it. And when it’s built it’s taking pride of place in my new home.’

She had bought him a model kit of the Millennium Falcon, the famous star ship from his beloved Star Wars. It was just like the model her mum and dad had bought for him that same last Christmas and that her dad and Terry had helped him build. The model that Belter, her dog, had broken a piece off, and her dad had stuck back on. Chance had pretended it hadn’t mattered that his cherished model was no longer pristine, but she had known he was upset about it, even though at the time, she couldn’t understand why.

Now Chance was coming towards her as if he was going to kiss her and she wasn’t sure what to do. She had kissed him in thanks so it was only fair that he would do the same. It was a little awkward though and she quickly stood up and coughed.

‘I hope you won’t mind if I go to bed now,’ she said, looking at Vicky instead of Chance. ‘Thank you so much for this evening, and my present and everything, but my head is getting worse. I’m sorry to spoil things.’

‘You’re not spoiling anything,’ Vicky and Chance said in unison.

‘Go to bed,’ Chance said, with genuine tenderness in his voice. ‘I hope you feel better and we’ll see you in the morning.’

‘Sleep well.’ Vicky blew her a kiss.

‘Thank you. Good night. And Merry Christmas.’

She hurried to the door, suddenly remembering the dogs were supposed to be opening presents and wondered if she should stay and do that, but neither Vicky nor Chance had mentioned it and she needed to get to her room. Her emotions were all over the place and she didn’t think she could hold them in much longer.

‘Molly.’

Chance was behind her as she reached the bottom stair and even though his voice was gentle, he startled her.

‘Yes?’

She turned to look at him and wished she hadn’t.

He covered the distance between them in two long strides and took her in his arms.

This time his kiss was soft and tender, not deep, desperate and passionate as it had been on the doorstep, but it still made her head spin and her heart race and her mind blank out all thoughts of anything other than him.

But once again, he pulled away, just as it was starting to get more intense.

He ran a hand through his hair.

‘I only wanted to say thanks again and to wish you pleasant dreams.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not sure how that happened.’

‘It’s Christmas, Chance. We’ve both been drinking and after those presents, we’re both, understandably, feeling