My Unexpected Christmas Wedding, page 7
‘So...’ she murmurs, lifting a piece for herself and settling back too. ‘Tree-shopping?’
‘Tree-shopping.’ I sense her grin before I even turn. ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you.’
‘Aiden, I haven’t settled in any place long enough, let alone big enough, to house a family-sized tree in too many years to count. I’m in my element.’
I wish I could say the same, but seeing her brown eyes sparkle back at me, and with the memory of my mother’s grin too, I can’t deny that there’s a part of me that takes pleasure in theirs. And to feel that thrill over Christmas again...even if it is just a subtle flurry, deep in my gut... It beats the chill of the last decade by far.
‘Besides you owe me—so indulge me.’
My mouth twitches. ‘There’s nothing I can say to that, is there?’
‘Nope. You might even enjoy it.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
‘We’ll see...’
Elena
Two hours later, I’m tugging on my woolly beanie and gloves, ready to step out of the truck, when Aiden turns to me and says, ‘Leave the negotiating to me, okay?’
‘Negotiating? We’re buying a Christmas tree, not undertaking the deal of the century.’
‘If I remember Old Jimmy right, he’ll see us coming and wallop on an extra zero or two.’
I laugh. ‘Quit being such a Scrooge. It’s not like you can’t afford it.’
‘That’s what he’ll say.’
I just laugh harder, stepping out of the truck without paying attention to the ground, and suddenly I’m slipping, the door swinging out as my legs go under—‘Woah!’
Two strong hands reach me before I hit the deck, gripping me beneath my arms as they set me back on my feet.
‘Oh, my goodness!’
Hand to chest, I turn to thank my saviour and find myself eyes to a chiselled jawline, a full mouth stretched into a dizzyingly bright white grin, a straight nose and piercingly blue eyes.
‘Thank you!’
‘You’re welcome.’ The deep voice matches the big strong frame. ‘Names Brett.’
‘It’s nice to meet you, Brett. I’m Elena.’
‘A pretty name for a pretty lady.’ He adjusts his beanie over his shoulder-length blond hair and my cheeks burn, my giggle ridiculous.
‘Who happens to be my fiancée.’
Aiden comes up behind us, the possessive edge to his voice unmistakeable, as is the palm to my back. What on earth...? I turn to look at him, but he’s far too busy staring Brett down.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here, Brett. Is your dad about?’
‘Aiden.’ Brett gives him a restrained nod. ‘I’ve been chipping in here for a few years now, since we expanded with the year-round garden store. I’ve not seen you in a long time, though. Back for Christmas?’
‘Something like that.’
I almost roll my eyes. Could he be any more enigmatic?
‘So, what can we do you for?’
‘We’re looking for a tree.’
‘How big are you thinking?’
‘Big!’ I pipe up, my obvious excitement earning a scowl from Aiden and a return of Brett’s supremely friendly grin.
‘It’s for the living room back at the lodge,’ Aiden explains, far less exuberantly.
‘Ah, that’s a cracking space. I remember when your parents used to host the annual Christmas party. It wasn’t Christmas until that bash kicked off the season...it’s been a while, though.’ He frowns, scratches his forehead beneath his hat. ‘Though I guess it’s hard...without your dad an’ all.’
I give a minute shake of my head, glance at Aiden, who manages a grunt in response.
‘Right you are, then,’ Brett blurts, pocketing his hands as he rocks on his feet. ‘You want to follow me?’
Aiden doesn’t move. ‘Is your dad not about?’
‘Not today. He’s semi-retired now. Comes in occasionally, but mainly to get out of Mum’s hair. You know how it is.’
I grit my teeth. For all Brett is good looking, he certainly lacks in the emotional intelligence department, and I find myself slipping my gloved hand into Aiden’s, cosying up to him as we trudge through the gravel that’s been neatly cleared of snow.
Like something out of a Hallmark Christmas movie, this place is a holiday lovers delight. With its snowbanks and thick woodland, a hut that looks like it came from Lapland, with signs for Santa and his elves on the door, and a pop-up Christmas store too. Kids running between the buildings, whooping with excitement as parents chase close behind.
I drink it all in as Brett leads us past the garden centre and takes us into a huge warehouse filled with trees. The scent of pine and festive magic carries on the air and my grin reaches ever wider.
‘If there isn’t one here you like, I’m sure we can cut you a fresh one.’
‘One of these will be fine.’
Aiden’s answer is almost a grumble. Does he fear the flexing of Brett’s muscles in my company...the prowess he was forbidden from demonstrating by his mother?
Is he really, truly, jealous?
The idea has me stifling a giggle and he sends me a sharp frown.
‘You’re right,’ I hurry to say. ‘I’m sure one of these will be perfect.’
I practically skip towards the back of the building, taking him with me as I seek out the biggest, most impressive... Every shape and shade of needle is on display but it doesn’t take me long to find the one. A perfect triangle, all bushy and tall.
I halt, causing one attached Aiden to jerk to a stop too. ‘This is it!’
Brett grins. ‘Good choice.’
‘Let me guess,’ Aiden says wryly. ‘The most expensive?’
‘Isn’t your fiancée worth it?’ Brett challenges him, and I purse my lips on another giggle.
The tension coming off Aiden is palpable, but it has nothing to do with his father and his sadness now...this is about me—us.
‘Of course.’
Brett whistles to a hovering member of staff and gestures for him to wrap it up. ‘It’ll be ready shortly. Meanwhile, if you’d like to check out the pop-up store...?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘That would be wonderful, thank you!’ I say, talking over Aiden, my full-wattage smile enough to make up for his scowl. ‘Come now, darling. I’m sure your mother would love some new decorations to put out this year.’
New memories too—happier ones to replace the last decade of nothing.
I’m already tugging him away, and I swear I hear Brett chuckle.
Please don’t hear him...please don’t hear him.
But one peek up at Aiden’s deepening scowl and I know he has.
It should dampen my mood—instead I’m elated. Whether Aiden recognises it or not, he was staking his claim, he was jealous, and my long-smitten heart is far too ecstatic. Even if it doesn’t mean more, it does mean something.
Besides, I’m on a mission to help his family have the perfect Christmas, and that means getting Aiden into the spirit of the season too. No matter how impossible that might seem.
In fact, I’m not sure what’s more of a challenge—convincing everyone we’re in love, or convincing Aiden that Christmas is worth loving again.
But I’m all over both.
Aiden
What is wrong with me?
You’re jealous!
I am.
I’m jealous of Brett over Elena.
And what kind of madness is that?
She flits between the tables and shelves within the pop-up store, her delighted gaze taking in every item. She’s a flurry of colour—bright red woollen coat, cute cream scarf and beanie, dark hair flowing out beneath, rich brown eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed pink with excitement.
I can’t blame Brett for taking a liking to her. Any red-blooded male would. She’s beautiful.
And she’s not mine.
Not truly.
So why the possessive spark? The heat that I couldn’t quash in the face of Brett’s obvious attraction...?
‘I just love this place!’
I grunt my response, thankful that Elena’s festive cheer is enough to offset my lack of it. She’s as dialled up as the cheesy Christmas hits playing over the static-filled speaker system. They really need to fix that...
I’m about to say as much when she thrusts some knitted fluffy thing in my face.
‘Look, Adie! How adorable is this? We have to get it. Everyone needs a gonk these days.’
‘A what?’
She turns it in her hand, plays with what I now realise is a beard with a round pink nose sticking out. ‘A gonk.’
‘Looks like a gnome to me.’
‘They’re kind of a mix between a gnome and a hobgoblin.’
‘Is that so?’ My smile threatens to make an appearance.
‘They’re a Nordic thing. They bring good luck and fortune and protect the home...but only if you’re nice enough.’
Why does that sound like a playful threat...?
‘What happens if you’re not nice?’
Her eyes spark up at me. ‘If you’re not nice you’ll soon know about it. They cause all manner of mischief.’
‘Something tells me I’m in for that, regardless.’
She blinks, wide eyed and innocent. ‘Are you saying I’m bringing mischief your way?’
‘I’m saying that right now, with no Gabe and three women under my roof, I’m facing all the mischief a man can manage.’
She laughs—and damn if I don’t laugh too, far too entertained by her and the story she’s relaying.
‘But this one will look perfect by the fire, don’t you think?’
I don’t think, just nod, as she tugs at its cone-shaped hat which is four times as big as its body and bright red—her colour.
‘I think we should get one for each bedroom,’ she says.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Blue for you—still your favourite, right?’
I huff. She’s right. Of course she is. ‘I’m saying nothing...’
‘Can you grab us a basket or two?’
There’s no arguing with her when she’s like this. Far better to just do it.
When I return, a basket on each arm, she’s singing away to the music, her exquisite voice a vast improvement over the sound coming through the speakers, and I hang back and just listen. Listen and watch and feel how lucky I am to have her.
Especially when my plan is working. And all because of her.
Mum is happier and livelier than she’s been in months.
I’m happier, which is an unexpected bonus.
And it’s all thanks to her. Elena.
She turns to me and smiles, nips her lip. I don’t know what that look’s about, but I feel it teasing at a part of me I don’t understand. The same part that came alive this morning when she was all mussed-up from sleep and in my bed.
It warms my soul, makes me smile from within.
‘You have my permission to go wild.’
She grins. ‘You know I was going to anyway, right?’
I chuckle, low and slow. ‘I had a fair idea.’
And then she launches herself up to plant a kiss on my cheek and the contact whips through me, hot and fleeting.
‘Far more fun to have you on board, though...’
She skips off and I’m rooted to the spot. Immobilised by her easy affection, drunk on her pleasure, and shaken by the desire to pull her back in for more...
I shake my head, smother a curse.
She’s Laney. Your best friend Laney.
Not your partner. Not your fiancée.
Not yours to be jealous, possessive, or any other such crazy notion over!
I stride after her, paste on a smile and play the dutiful fiancé, carrying whatever her heart desires.
Play being the operative word.
CHAPTER FIVE
Elena
I BUSTLE INTO the hallway, my arms laden with bags, and sense Aiden freeze behind me. My happy smile freezes with it.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘That smell...’
I breathe in the warm air of the lodge—woodsmoke and Christmas and... I sigh.
‘Mulled wine?’
‘No, it’s—’
‘Fabulous timing!’ Margot appears, wearing an apron that would do Mother Christmas proud and with a tray of steaming baked goods outstretched before her. ‘I’ve made your favourite, Aiden.’
‘Butter tarts?’
His voice is small, quiet, and she smiles, her cheeks all flushed, wisps of auburn hair peeking out beneath her red headscarf. She looks bashful, suddenly uncertain.
‘I figured I’d best get a practice batch in before our guests arrive.’
‘But—but you haven’t made those in years.’
He sets his overflowing bags down—with escaping strands of berries, decorative branches of evergreen, tufts of gonk beard—and frowns at the tray.
‘Hence the need for a practice run. They should keep us going while we decorate the place, don’t you think?’ He doesn’t respond and she follows his gaze, taking in the glossy-topped pastries with a frown of her own. ‘I only hope they’re as good as they used to be.’
‘I’m sure they’ll be delicious, Margot.’ I rush forward to get a closer look, stepping in for Aiden. ‘They certainly smell like it!’
I know it’s the scent that’s getting to him. The scent and the memories it’s evoked.
‘May I?’
‘Of course, dear. Careful, though, they’re hot.’
Gingerly, I take one up, nibble its edge as Aiden slowly regains some of the colour he’s lost. Sweet baked pastry and syrupy butter—a culinary delight for my neglected tastebuds that get denied far too often.
‘Wow, these are good.’ I cover my mouth as I say it, look back to his mother, who’s now beaming with pride and relief.
‘I’m so glad.’
‘Gee, you two took your time.’ Avery wanders in with a box of decorations and slows to a halt when she spies the bags. ‘What’s all this?’
I give a sheepish smile. ‘I think I may have got carried away.’
‘And Aiden let you?’
We’re all looking at him now, and he comes alive, tugging his woollen beanie from his head and raking a hand through his hair, although his eyes avoid us.
‘There was no stopping her.’
Avery and his mother laugh.
‘Good woman,’ his mother says.
‘Shall we take it all through to the lounge and go grab the tree?’ I say.
‘Give it two mins and Terry will be over to help,’ she replies.
‘You called in the neighbours?’
Again, Aiden is surprised, and again, his mother simply smiles.
‘Terry offered. Plus, he’s doing the outside lights for us. We’ll have that roofline twinkling come nightfall.’
Aiden shakes his head. ‘In that case, I’ll leave you to it and catch up on some work.’
‘Oh, no, you won’t—it’s Sunday,’ I say, hooking my arm through his and holding him back. ‘A day of rest.’
‘You call this rest?’
‘Of a sort...’ I paste on my most persuasive smile.
‘And there’s no way poor Terry can lug that tree in on his own—you did get a huge one, right?’
Avery is looking at me rather than her brother.
‘Sure did.’
‘Fabulous!’
Avery heads into the living room while I take another bite of the butter tart and moan with delight.
The sound earns me a peculiar look from Aiden. ‘What?’ I say, defensively. ‘They’re really good.’
He steps out of my hold, eyes the tray hesitantly before taking one. ‘Is there mulled wine too?’ he asks.
‘You know me so well, darling. I’ll just set these down and go fetch it.’
‘No need, Margot. You go on in and we’ll get it. Won’t we, Aiden?’
Not that I’m giving him a choice as I take him with me, following the scent of festive spice to the kitchen, where a pan is gently heating on the stove.
‘She must have been at it the entire time we’ve been gone.’
He looks both concerned and surprised as he places his untouched tart beside the mountain of ingredients on the flour-covered work surface.
‘She seems okay, though. I’m sure Avery would have stepped in if she was worried about her overdoing it.’
His hand is back in his hair, the grooves either side of his mouth deepening.
‘You can’t expect her to just sit around, Adie,’ I say softly.
‘It’s what she has been doing...’
‘Well, maybe she’s feeling a little better. You said her last treatment was a couple of weeks ago? Maybe the symptoms are easing.’
‘Until the next lot.’
I step up to him, rest my hand on his heart. ‘Hey, come on. This is what you wanted. To bring her some joy...a new purpose, even.’
‘I didn’t expect her to bring Christmas back in all its glory.’
I frown up into his haunted green eyes. ‘Is that really such a bad thing?’
‘No. Yes. Hell, I don’t know.’ He grips the back of his neck with both hands. ‘But walking through that door...that scent... They were dad’s favourite too, you know? Not just mine.’
‘And she hasn’t made them since he passed?’
He shakes his head.
‘And it’s made you remember. Just like everything Christmas-related makes you remember?’
His throat bobs, his eyes fall to my lips, and his ‘yes’ is a husky acceptance of his grief.
He curses, thrusts himself away. ‘What is wrong with me?’
‘Nothing’s wrong with you, Adie. Christmas is hard for families, regardless of when they lose their loved ones, but you lost your dad at Christmas. The anniversary of his death is wrapped up in a time that was once full of love and joy...a time that was important to him. And it should be important to you still.’
