Once Upon a Christmas. Sarah Morgan

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Once Upon a Christmas - Sarah Morgan

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      ‘He needs to get going,’ Jack said coldly, his face unsmiling. ‘The roads are icy tonight and they’re forecasting snow.’

      David was silent for a moment, his eyes on Jack. ‘Right. In that case I’d better make a move.’

      ‘OK, then.’ Secretly relieved by the decision, Bryony stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘Thanks for tonight. I enjoyed it.’

      ‘Me, too.’ David was still looking at Jack and then he gave a funny smile and turned to Bryony. ‘I’ll see you at work.’

      With that he turned the collar of his coat up and strolled back down her path towards his car.

      Bryony followed Jack into the cottage and slipped her coat off.

      ‘I’m sorry Lizzie was such hard work tonight, Jack.’ She strolled into the kitchen and flipped the kettle on. ‘She never normally wants to call me. And she doesn’t normally care if she’s lost the book she was reading—she’ll just pick another one. It doesn’t sound as though you managed to relax at all.’

      ‘I managed.’ Jack sank onto one of the kitchen chairs and put his feet on the table in his usual pose. ‘I expect she was just a bit unsettled by the thought of you going out with a strange man.’

      Bryony frowned slightly. It was Lizzie who had suggested this whole daddy business, so why would she be unsettled? On the other hand, perhaps she hadn’t really thought the whole thing through. It was certainly true that Lizzie wasn’t used to seeing strange men in her life. She saw Jack and her two uncles and that was about it.

      ‘She’ll get used to it.’

      ‘Maybe.’ Jack sounded noncommittal. ‘So—did you have a good evening?’

      There was something in his tone that she couldn’t interpret and Bryony lifted two mugs out of the cupboard, not sure how to answer. Had she had a good evening? If she was honest, she didn’t really feel she’d had a chance to talk to David. Every time they’d begun a conversation the phone had rung.

      Poor Lizzie.

      She’d talk to her tomorrow and see how she felt about the whole thing. She certainly didn’t want to go on dates if it was going to upset her daughter.

      ‘I had a nice evening,’ she said finally, not wanting to admit to Jack that it had been anything less than perfect. ‘It’s a shame David wouldn’t come in for coffee.’

      ‘It’s not a shame. It was a lucky escape.’ Jack swung his legs off the table and glared at her. ‘Never invite a man in for coffee.’

      Bryony looked at him in astonishment. ‘I was being polite.’

      He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Offering to have sex with a man is being polite?’

      Bryony gaped at him, stunned. ‘I did not offer to have sex with him, I offered him coffee.

      ‘It’s the same thing.’ A muscle flickered in his jaw, rough with stubble so late in the evening. He looked dark and dangerous and Bryony felt her stomach flip.

      Why couldn’t she find David even half as attractive? She’d been less than enthusiastic at the possibility of him kissing her, but if it had been Jack who’d been on the doorstep with her …

      Reminding herself that she wasn’t supposed to be noticing Jack, Bryony picked up the coffee-jar.

      ‘Coffee is the same as sex?’ She twisted the jar in her hand, looking at it with a mocking expression. ‘Full of caffeine and sold in supermarkets. I don’t think so.’

      Jack glared at her. ‘You can joke about it, but do you really think a man wants to sit around, drinking your coffee?’

      ‘You’re sitting around, drinking my coffee,’ Bryony pointed out logically, and his mouth hardened.

      ‘That’s different. I’m not trying to get you into my bed.’

      More’s the pity, Bryony thought wistfully, putting the coffee down on the side. If Jack ever tried to get her into his bed she’d be there like a flash.

      ‘Jack, I’m sure David didn’t have anything immoral on his mind.’

      ‘Which just shows how little you know about men,’ Jack said tightly. ‘Do you know the average man thinks about sex every six seconds?’

      ‘So presumably that’s why they say men are like photocopiers,’ Bryony said dryly. ‘Good for reproduction but not much else.’

      For once Jack didn’t laugh and she sighed inwardly. There was obviously something about the idea of her dating that short-circuited his sense of humour.

      Suddenly she wanted the old Jack back. The Jack that called her Blondie and teased her unmercifully. The Jack with the wicked smile and the sexiest wink known to woman.

      ‘Jack.’ Her tone was patient. ‘I invited David in for coffee because I was being polite. I had no intention of having sex with him.’

      ‘And what if he’d decided to have sex with you?’

      She looked at him in exasperation. ‘Well, despite the colour of my hair I do have a brain and a mouth,’ she said tartly. ‘I can think no and say no. At the same time. Amazing really. If I concentrate really hard I can add two and two. Jack, what is the matter with you?’

      ‘I just think you’re being naïve.’

      ‘Inviting a guy in for coffee?’ Bryony gritted her teeth and shook her head. ‘You’ve gone crazy, do you know that?’

      There was a long silence and streaks of colour touched his hard cheekbones. ‘Maybe I have,’ he said shortly, putting his half-full mug on the table and rising to his feet in a fluid movement. ‘I’d better get home.’

      ‘Fine. Thank you for babysitting.’

      ‘You’re welcome.’

      As a farewell it had none of its usual warmth and Bryony turned away and poured the rest of her coffee down the sink, boiling with frustration and feeling confused and upset.

      She heard Jack stride to her front door, heard him pick up his jacket and car keys and then the front door slammed behind him.

      Bryony winced and let out a long breath.

      Just what was going on with Jack?

      Bryony was nervous about working with Jack the next day but he seemed back to his usual self, relaxed and good-humoured as they sat in the staffroom and discussed the shifts for Bonfire Night.

      ‘It’s my turn.’ Sean Nicholson, one of the other consultants, looked at Jack with a resigned expression on his face. ‘You deserve a year off from Bonfire Night. You’ve had a bad few years.’

      Jack rolled his eyes. ‘I won’t know what to do with myself,’ he drawled, and Bryony gave him a sympathetic smile.

      ‘You hate this time of year,

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