The Best Little Christmas Shop. Maxine Morrey
properly. Luckily, I knew the maker of the scarves and would put in an emergency order by text once my customers had gone.
‘Bear!’ George cried as he saw his teddy casually lounging on the table that held the till. ‘Daddy, he’s got a scarf too, and it’s the same colour as mine!’
Cal smiled. ‘You really shouldn’t have. How much do I owe you?’
‘Ha! I’m good, but I’m not that good. I’ll have to ring them up first,’ I said, pushing my chair out to get to the till, leaning over for his basket as I did so.
‘No, I meant for the repair –’ he tilted his head ‘– and his new scarf.’
‘Oh!’ I shook my head, frowning. ‘Nothing.’
‘No. I must. It’s taken your time when you obviously have plenty to do anyway. I’d like –’
‘Really. It was my pleasure. There’s no charge.’
Cal was a good head and half taller than me but I’d grown up with three brothers and spent my entire career in a male-dominated world. I knew how to make a point when I needed to. Matt called it ‘The Tone’. Even without this inside knowledge, Cal clearly got the idea I wasn’t prepared to argue the point any further.
‘Well then, thank you. Sewing, admittedly, is not my forte.’
I smiled. ‘Then that makes two of us. You did a great job, honestly. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t even know where to start! And George thinks you’re a superhero so don’t be too hard on yourself. Honestly, I’ve just tidied it up a bit, that’s all.’
Cal tilted his head at me. ‘I’ve a feeling you’re being more kind than honest but I’ll take it. Thank you, again.’
‘You’re welcome. OK, let’s get your purchases sorted, shall we? I think all this shopping has tired someone out.’
Cal turned in the direction of my nod to where George was now curling up on one of the faux fur beanbags, his fingers wrapping around the bear’s scarf distractedly as his own eyelids drooped heavily.
‘Oh crikey, hang on, I’ll just get him –’
I caught Cal’s sleeve. ‘Don’t. He’s not doing any harm. Just leave him whilst we’re sorting this out.’
‘But isn’t that your stock?’
‘Yep. But it’s made for sitting on.’
‘Yes. Once it’s paid for.’
‘Look.’ I turned George’s dad around by his arms. ‘You’ve clearly taught him well. He’s even taken his shoes off. He’s fine. The stock is fine. Relax!’
Cal looked down at me and I realised I was still holding his arms. I dropped my hands quickly and shoved them into the pockets of my jeans.
‘Things are very different here from London,’ he said, his expression relaxing.
‘Yes. They are. Which is a good thing, I think.’
‘Definitely.’
‘OK. Let’s see what we have here.’ I started ringing through Cal’s purchases, wrapping the breakables, and stacking things carefully in a couple of boxes to make it easier for him to carry and transport back at home.
‘Have you got a long journey back?’ I asked as I rang up the final total, glancing over at the now sleeping George.
Cal gave me a quizzical look as he dipped a hand inside the padded jacket he wore, retrieving a wallet from the inner pocket and pulling a credit card out from inside.
‘No. Not far at all.’
‘Oh! Sorry, I assumed you were down from London when you said that about it being different here from there.’ I handed him the card reader and he put the card in as he answered me.
‘We used to live there.’
‘Oh.’ Clearly he didn’t want to share any more so I stopped my questioning and tried to remember that not everyone was as chatty as the locals. ‘That’s not reading properly. Do you mind?’ He shook his head as I moved the reader around to face me and took the card out, switching it around so that the chip was in the machine. As I did so, he rolled his eyes at himself.
‘My fault distracting you,’ I said.
‘Hardly.’
I dropped my gaze to the readout and took the comment at face value. Fair enough. Even if it was a bit blunt.
‘I meant hardly in that it wasn’t your fault, not that you weren’t distracting. Not that I was …’ He trailed off and I lifted my gaze to his. ‘I think I’m just going to shut up now.’
I laughed. ‘OK. Do you want to enter your PIN?’
‘Very much so.’
I grinned, took the machine back off him, and waited for the receipt to chug out, which I then handed to him, along with his card. As I did, I noticed the name on it.
‘Cal Martin?’
‘That’s me.’
‘As in Xander’s boss, Cal?’
‘You know Xander?’
‘He and Giselle are my best friends. I didn’t realise you were The Cal.’ I needed to have words with my friend, Giselle. She’d mentioned that her husband’s boss was quite good-looking, but had left out the fact that he had eyes like a rainstorm, a mouth that suggested temptation and, from what I could see, a body that absolutely promised it.
‘The Cal?’ He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that he kept low in deference to his sleeping child. ‘That sounds like quite a lot to live up to.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘I do. When you said your name was Lexi, it did cross my mind that I’d heard the name but …’ He hesitated. ‘I didn’t think you could be the same one because I was under the impression you were kind of a high flyer and didn’t live in the village. Don’t you work in Formula One or something?’
‘I used to, yes.’ I’d intended to leave my explanation at that for now, but I hadn’t banked on those eyes. When I lifted my gaze from where I had been fiddling with the credit card machine’s cable, they were focused on me and suddenly I felt like I was the only person in about a five-mile radius. A thought, uninvited, flashed through my brain as to what that focus might feel like in a more … intimate … setting. Oh wow, probably best not to go there! Almost instantaneously, my cheeks flamed as I gave my thoughts a firm shove.
‘I’m sorry.’ He stepped back. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’
‘Oh, no really. It’s fine. It’s not that at all.’ If only you knew … ‘I think I just got a little warm for a moment.’ I flapped my hand a bit for emphasis, which only succeeded in making me feel like an even bigger idiot so I shoved it back in my pocket again.
He smiled gently. ‘It is nice and cosy in here. Certainly seems to suit some people.’ We both looked over to where George was zonked out, Bear in one arm cuddled against him, the other flung out across the soft fur. ‘I’d better get him home.’
‘Oh wait. Don’t forget this.’ I placed one of the fresh wreaths I’d been making on top of one of the boxes. ‘Your son seemed to really like them.’
‘He did – you’re right,’ Cal agreed, reaching in his jacket for his wallet again.
I put my hand on his arm briefly to stop him.
‘It’s on the house.’
He frowned at me. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘Yes, I can. It’s my family’s business and it’s one wreath. Don’t worry. It’s not going to bankrupt us.’
‘So