Meet Me Under the Mistletoe. Carla Burgess. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carla Burgess
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008271558
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have my own house already. It’s only a ten-minute walk down the road and over the river. Close enough.’ Realising I was on the verge of giving him my home address and inviting him round for tea, I shut up and then noticed my fingers were still wrapped around his big, warm hand. Trying to pretend it was normal to hold a handshake for this long, I let go and tucked my hands into the pockets of my cardigan instead. To his credit, Anthony pretended not to notice and turned his attention to the shop.

      ‘It’s lovely in here. I love the whole vintage vibe.’ He turned around slowly, taking in the shelves of flowers, the display of scented candles on the shabby-chic Welsh dresser in the corner and the floral birdcages hung at different levels from the ceiling. ‘I like the fact you haven’t got any Christmas decorations up yet.’

      ‘Oh, they’ll be going up this weekend, don’t worry.’

      He glanced back over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. ‘Still too early.’

      I laughed. ‘That’s the way it is in retail, I’m afraid. Some shops put them up as soon as Halloween’s out of the way.’

      ‘I know,’ he said, grudgingly. ‘So, why’s this shop called The Birdcage, then? You’re not trapped here, I take it?’

      ‘No, it was my Mum’s shop. Her name’s Birdie. I take it you haven’t met her yet. She’s on holiday with her sister at the moment. Dad won’t fly.’

      ‘Yes, I’ve only met your dad. Nice man.’ He turned back to face me and smiled. ‘Well, if you’re not trapped here, perhaps you’d like to take pity on the new boy in town and come out to dinner with me?’

      ‘I’m sorry?’ I blinked in surprise, thinking I’d misheard him.

      He smiled. ‘No pressure or anything. I just can’t stand the thought of spending another night sitting in the flat sorting out boxes and I’d quite like to see a bit of Chester. That’s unless you already have plans, and only if your boyfriend wouldn’t object, of course?’

      ‘Oh! No, not at all. What time is it now?’

      He looked at his watch. ‘Half past five. What time do you close?’

      ‘Half past five.’ I smiled, suddenly excited. This was a vast improvement on my original plans for the evening, which involved a microwave meal for one in front of Emmerdale and a bubble bath. ‘Let me bring the flowers in from outside and then I can lock up.’

      ‘Oh here, I’ll help you,’ he said, following me out of the shop to where more buckets of flowers stood just outside the door.

      ‘You don’t have to. It’ll only take a minute,’ I said, bending to lift a container of roses.

      ‘No, here, pass it to me.’ He held the door open with his back and took the container out of my hands. ‘Do I just put them in front of this shelf?’

      ‘Yes, please. That’s perfect,’ I said, passing him another container. There were only half a dozen or so containers of flowers out today. It had been too windy and cold to risk more. Leaves scuttled along the pavement and my skirt flapped around my legs, lifting and billowing ominously as I passed Anthony the last container. I clamped it down with my hand, pink with embarrassment, but Anthony either didn’t or pretended not to see to spare my blushes. ‘Thank you,’ I said, as he stood back to let me through the door. I caught another waft of his aftershave and resisted the urge to sniff him all over like my parents’ spaniel. ‘I’ll just lock the back door and get my coat,’ I said, breathlessly, walking through the archway into the back of the shop where we created the flower arrangements. I’d intended to clear the stalks and leaves from the large wooden table before I left tonight, but it could wait until the morning. Locking the door, I set the alarm and grabbed my blue pea coat from the peg. Anthony turned the sign to closed as I dashed round switching off fairy lights and blowing out candles, and then held the door open for me when we were ready to go. I was seriously impressed by his manners. I wasn’t used to such gentlemanly behaviour.

      ‘So, where have you come from, Anthony?’ I said, as we walked up the street towards the city centre. I raised my voice over the sound of cars and buses rumbling past, and he bent his head closer so he could hear.

      ‘I’m originally from Shropshire, but I’ve just moved here from Manchester.’

      ‘So, not too far away then.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Why Chester? Do you have a new job here?’

      ‘No. I just like to move around. See new places’

      ‘Really? Blimey, I don’t think I could be bothered with all the hassle of moving my stuff from place to place.’

      He shrugged. ‘I choose furnished rental properties and keep my belongings to a minimum.’

      ‘Oh, okay.’ I raised my eyebrows, a little surprised by his answer. I couldn’t imagine a life where I moved around from town to town. The only time I’d left Chester was to go to university in Liverpool for three years, then I’d moved straight back home. Presumably, that would seem boring to a man like Anthony. I remembered my dad saying he’d only signed a three-month contract. Dad would have preferred six but Anthony had seemed like the ideal tenant so he’d gone along with it. It was a shame he wouldn’t be sticking around for longer. ‘So, what do you fancy to eat? Anything in particular?’

      ‘Mmm, something with potatoes and gravy. Preferably a pie.’

      I looked up at him in surprise. He was so posh, I’d half expected him to say venison or something, although to be fair he hadn’t specified what type of pie. It could well be a game pie he was craving. He looked at me and laughed. ‘What?’ he said. ‘I’ve been starving all day! Don’t tell me you’re one of these women that nibbles on lettuce leaves and calls it a meal.’

      ‘Not at all. I just… I don’t know.’ I laughed and peeled a strand of hair away from my face. I didn’t know him well enough to start joking about how upper class he was. ‘There’s a pub up here that serves nice food. We’ll go there.’

      It was only a few minutes’ walk, which was a relief because the cold wind was making my eyes water and I didn’t want mascara all down my face. I couldn’t believe I felt so nervous and excited about going to dinner with this man I’d met less than half an hour ago. This wasn’t me; I didn’t go all fan-girl crazy over men I’d just met. I was sensible and practical. The fact that I’d got engaged to my last boyfriend rather too quickly was beside the point. That had been a big mistake and one I would not be repeating any time soon.

      Anyway, this wasn’t a date. I was just being neighbourly, that’s all, and taking care of my parents’ new tenant. It wasn’t nice to be all alone in a new city, especially with Christmas approaching. No matter how much he liked to move around and be in new places, he was bound to get lonely sometimes. And he might even have a girlfriend already. Just because he lived alone didn’t necessarily mean he was single.

      I breathed the cool night air deep into my lungs as we approached the pub to try and calm my nerves. Anthony opened the door and stood back to let me enter first. The pub was quiet so finding a table was no problem. We sat at a table for two next to the window. He smiled as he passed me a menu and my stomach fluttered.

      ‘See, they have pie,’ I said, pointing at the menu.

      ‘Mmm, so they do,’ he smiled.

      A waitress came over and took our drinks order. I noted that he spoke just as courteously to her as he had to me and it made me like him even more. I found myself watching the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled up at her. At a guess, I’d have said he was about ten years older than me. Probably thirty-five, or thirty-six. The waitress jotted down our order and walked away.

      ‘So, I take it your boyfriend won’t mind you being out with me tonight?’ he said, turning back to me.

      ‘I haven’t got a boyfriend.’

      ‘You