Page 34 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

She might have told herself that she’d go with the flow, let him swan off to those foreign shores if he so wished. But tonight Lucy just wanted to hold onto him – and never let go.

Chapter Sixteen

Sat on an old rug beside his pitched tent, high up on a moorland hillside, thoughts rolled through Jack’s troubled mind. The air was clear and crisp and it was no doubt going to be a frosty night, but he didn’t mind. He had good hiking and camping gear, and he certainly needed a bit of head space.

Last night … the thought of Lucy meeting his parents, doing the whole family thing. He’d never done that with a girl – well, not since his high-school sweetheart fourteen years ago. As an adult, he’d always kept that bit of distance, and well, if things seemed like they were getting a bit too heavy, he’d know it was time to just move on. Letting himself fall for someone, letting his heart loose, putting it out there to take that inevitable bashing, this was all way out of his comfort zone.

God, he knew he loved her, spending time with Lucy was amazing, but it also felt like falling … and not like some little trip on a pavement, oh no, more like he’d just leaped out of a plane without a bloody parachute.

He gazed out across the valley.

Dusk was beginning to fall, deepening the shadows on the moorland slopes beneath him, and above him, painting ridges that edged the Cheviot skyline with dark indigo contours. He loved space and freedom, reflected here in these hills and the wilder parts of the coast. Outside of his cocktail events, he could get up and go whenever he wanted. Be on his own whenever he needed. Was he really ready to be tied down?

But her face filled his mind, that glossy dark hair, those intense brown eyes, the smell of her perfume, her skin … memories of last night by that fireside, and the many nights before, arose within him. Bloody hell, he felt so torn.

He drew out the old notepad from his rucksack, and began jotting down a few words. Jack often turned to his writing in times of doubt or pain, when he was struggling with his emotions. Doodling ‘Lucy’, ‘in too deep’, ‘lost’, until the words began to weave like threads in his mind, into a poem. Fragments of his heart on paper:

A lock of your hair brushes my cheek and wakes me.

And I feel alive,

As if every sense in my body is popping, like the bubbles in a glass of champagne.

And I feel in love. There, I’ve said it.

It both lifts me and pulls me down

Into a well of vulnerability, where

I’m in too deep … lost to you.

Am I lost to myself?

Do I stay? Or is it time to softly walk away?

He was annoyed with himself for acting so coolly with Lucy yesterday. He’d never meant to hurt her, but the look on her face told him otherwise. He found it hard, voicing his feelings face-to-face, it was hard to be vulnerable. And he’d learned over the years to avoid the hurt of losing someone you loved.

He remembered all too well the ominous date that was drawing near. Another year that his brother hadn’t had, would never have. This was always an extra-difficult time for Jack and his family.

He gave a heavy sigh. Perhaps this night in the hills might help him make some sense of it all … or, he mused wryly, give him hypothermia.

Where did he and Lucy go from here? He really wasn’t sure how to handle this one … this intriguing and gorgeous Northumbrian–Italian dark-haired woman had taken him quite by storm. But was it getting too complicated?

Whatever he decided, he needed to let Lucy know, and soon. Perhaps they were at a crossroads, and he had to decide which way to turn.

Chapter Seventeen

Lucy had struggled to sleep. Daisy had been most put out by her bed companion’s constant tossing and turning. In the dark of a late November night, with the wind rolling around outside, Lucy’s world felt unstable.

Just thinking that she and Jack might be in trouble made her heart feel so sore. Yesterday – the day after that Christmas tree scenario – she and Jack had shared a couple of brief, sharp texts, both of them skirting the elephant in the room and the ‘meet the parents’ clanger. And since then he’d been ominously quiet. She’d been through so much with Liam, it couldn’t all go wrong with Jack too … And if it did fail, then bloody hell … she’d miss him … their trips down the country lanes in the campervan, walks on the beach holding hands … his touch, his chat, his smile. She’d rather got used to curling up beside him in the cottage’s double bed, nestled beside his bare chest, and bare limbs, feeling those taut muscles as she trailed her fingertips over his warm skin.

Thoughts whirled like the last of the autumn leaves outside. Lucy had slipped in and out of a restless sleep through the early hours, waking finally at seven to find the room still dark, the cottage central heating creaking awake with her.

She got up and pushed her feet into cosy sheepskin slippers and wrapped herself up in her warm fleece dressing gown, heading downstairs to make a mug of strong tea. She needed reviving. And she needed some fresh air.

Walking Daisy on the beach soon afterwards, as the sun broke out over the North Sea, she told herself to pull her big girl’s socks up and crack on. She was worrying herself sick, without getting to the bottom of things with Jack. She’d find a way through. She and Jack needed to talk, to be honest with each other. For one thing, she needed to find out the truth about his travelling plans. And okay, so maybe Jack wasn’t ready for the ‘meet the parents’ moment as yet, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t think a lot of her, perhaps even love her … did it?

One bit of good news, and today’s silver lining, was that the horsebox was now ‘All Tyred Up!’ as Will at the garage had quipped merrily over the phone, telling her that her pride and joy was ready for her to come and collect any time. And so, by the afternoon, her dove-grey horsebox was back at home and on the driveway. It had looked so bare there these past couple of days. Well, at least that part of her life was getting back on track. And she’d be up and running again in time for her regular market slot on Thursday.