Chapter 17
Mia
It’s Christmas Eve, finally. Of all the days before Christmas, this is by far Mia’s favourite.
There’s an air of expectation surrounding the day.
Plus, there’s no need to get up early the next morning, now that they’re all older and the allure of Father Christmas doesn’t drag them from their beds before dawn.
She loves the family traditions on Christmas Eve too.
Growing up, Penny always had them make gingerbread houses on Christmas Eve to keep them busy while they waited for the day to pass.
Mia would sneak as many sweets as she could during the decorating, and Penny would pretend not to notice.
And, best of all, there’s the feast Mia will prepare for dinner.
She’s been planning this menu for months, and she’s practically bursting at the seams to begin.
The pork loin she’s had brining since yesterday is a beast – nearly ten pounds – and it will take all day to cook.
Mia sets her outfit for dinner on the bed to air – an endlessly comfortable knitted pencil skirt and a silk blouse.
The skirt is a thrifted Saint Laurent – a designer brand that she would never waste her money on at full price.
The green blouse is one of her favourites simply because the brush of real silk against her skin always makes her feel incredibly elegant.
But for now, she pulls on a pair of leggings that make her bum look amazing.
Normally she would opt for a shapeless t-shirt on top – easy to cook in and always a comfortable choice.
For reasons she’s not quite ready to explore, Mia pulls on a cute little cropped jumper instead.
The powdery blue hue goes great with her rosy skin tone.
She contorts her body to get a glimpse of the whole outfit in the tiny wall mirror, and lets out a satisfied sigh.
She moves on to makeup. She will do most of a full face now, and just amp up the eyeliner and add some lipstick before dinner this evening.
‘Hello, hello,’ John calls out as Mia finishes the last swipe of mascara.
‘I’m upstairs.’
‘Decent, I hope,’ John responds as he takes the stairs. His lanky frame appears in the doorway a moment later. He leans against the doorframe and rubs his hands together, blowing on them.
‘Cold?’ Mia asks as she pulls on her socks and stuffs her feet into her slippers.
‘I wish. It just seems like a chilly morning, if that makes sense.’ John gives her a rueful smile.
‘I can understand that. How did the banana go?’ Mia pads down the stairs and grabs one of the apples she brought to the cottage yesterday. ‘Was Sam freaked out?’
Following her, John shakes his head. ‘You have a bit of a sadistic streak, you know that?’
‘Sure. Whatever. I’m a monster. Now, spill.’
‘Well, I did scratch the words into the peel,’ John begins. ‘But he wasn’t up yet this morning when I left the big house. I went for a walk to clear my head, and now I’m here.’
Mia rolls her lips together. ‘Disappointing. Doesn’t matter that much, though. I’m headed up to the big house. And when I see Sam, I’ll just find a way to casually bring up bananas.’
‘As one does,’ John chuckles.
‘Exactly.’
There’s a sharp knock at the front door, and then it bursts open. Sam enters in a flurry of cold air and snowflakes, his arms full of chopped wood. ‘Morning, Mia.’
‘Ah, good morning?’ Mia’s forehead wrinkles as she greets him. ‘What are you doing down here?’
‘It’s colder today and I was worried about you down here in the cottage – thought you might be running low on wood.
So, I thought I’d just bring some for you from the pile Charlie and I have been working on.
’ Sam says this last bit as he toes off his boots and heads for the back room, pulling up short when he sees the large stack of wood in the inglenook. ‘Oh. You already have quite a lot.’
‘Yep,’ Mia muses, studying the man standing in front of her, with his half-tucked-in shirt peeking out of his coat and his windswept hair.
Her eyes snag on the stubble sprinkled across his jawline.
She finds she suddenly has an overwhelming urge to reach up and explore the texture, and quickly laces her fingers behind her to contain herself.
There’s a moment of awkward silence. Sam shuffles his feet, glances around the room and then exhales. ‘Well, I guess I can just leave these pieces with the rest, and then I’ll get out of your hair.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’ Mia’s cadence is wooden, and she silently berates herself for sounding so stilted. ‘I mean, thanks. For … this.’ She gestures vaguely at the pile in Sam’s arms.
Sam sets the logs down by the hearth and straightens, brushing a few stray wood shavings off his coat. His eyes bounce around the cottage, taking in the homey touches. ‘Wow, this place is really nice. I can see why you moved down here.’
Mia tilts her head, trying to work out why her stomach is feeling so unsettled. ‘Yeah, it’s really cosy. Mum is doing a great job fixing it up. My own bathroom is a big selling point too.’
‘I’m sure,’ Sam agrees. He doesn’t seem to be paying much attention to the conversation, though, his eyes seemingly glued to the stripe of skin that’s visible above her leggings.
Unable to resist, Mia yawns widely, stretching her arms above her head and pulling her top further up as she does so.
Sam swallows thickly as heat fills his gaze.
Mia almost wants to laugh at how easy it is to bait him, until he takes a step towards her, his eyes burning as he looks into hers.
Mia’s stomach turns liquid and her breath catches, the confidence she’d had a few seconds before deserting her.
Desperate to break the sudden tension that’s filled the cottage, Mia coughs and asks quietly, ‘Shall we head back up to the house?’ Sam’s eyes seem to clear at her words, and Mia’s breathing returns to normal as she continues, ‘You’re probably hungry for breakfast. Unless you’ve already eaten?’
‘Just a banana.’ Sam blinks a few times, and then after a pause, in which Mia does her best not to smirk, nods his head. ‘Yes. Let’s head up. After you.’
Mia spins around and locates her boots, silently berating herself for her moment of weakness as she bends down to tug them on. The laces have tangled, and it takes her a second to sort them out. When she straightens, Sam is waiting patiently with his boots on, one hand resting on the doorknob.
‘Ladies first,’ he says, turning the knob. But nothing happens, and a confused frown creases his face. The doorknob turns uselessly, while the wooden door stays resolutely shut. Sam rattles the knob. ‘Well, this is weird.’ He glances over his shoulder at Mia. ‘Has this been happening much?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, it’s been fine.
Let me try?’ She edges up beside him, doing her best to ignore how great he smells and the heat of his body.
It’s harder than she expected, and she feels that same magnetic pull drawing her towards him.
Her heartbeat picks up again and she feels a wave of heat rising to her cheeks.
She’s suddenly very thankful for the chilly draught coming from beneath the door.
Shaking her head, Mia’s hand closes over Sam’s on the doorknob for a brief moment before he withdraws.
Mia tries the knob several times, but it’s clearly stuck.
She stares at the ancient door, puzzled.
‘I can call Charlie to come down with some tools,’ Sam offers. ‘He’ll sort it out.’ He pulls his phone from his pocket, but Mia shakes her head.
‘There’s no signal down here.’
Sam looks down at his phone with an adorably perplexed expression.
John could find a way to alert someone, she’s sure of it. She glances around the room but can’t see him anywhere. Oh. That sodding ghost.
‘So, what, we’re stuck down here until someone realizes we’re missing?’ Sam slides his phone back into his pocket and shifts restlessly. ‘What if that takes hours?’
Hours they would have to spend just the two of them, locked in this cosy cottage.
Alone. Though Mia knows she should be irritated by this, there’s a hesitant thrill crawling up her spine, which she weakly tells herself has nothing to do with the man currently staring at the door in confusion.
Sam resorts to pacing the kitchen. After a few trips, he comes to a stop.
‘I could break a window,’ he offers apologetically.
‘That’s the only other thing I can think of. ’
The windows in the cottage are high, small and, most importantly, made with original wavy glass that would be a shame to break.
Mia shakes her head. ‘Let’s not rush to property destruction.
My mum will notice I haven’t started cooking, or something.
Hopefully, someone will find us before we need to start breaking things. ’
There seems to be nothing else to do besides settle in. She tilts her head towards the front room. ‘We might as well get comfortable while we wait.’ Mia glances around the kitchen. ‘I could make some tea …’ she offers.
Sam gives her a rueful smile. ‘Another set of hot drinks might not be the best idea. But sure, I don’t mind sitting by the fire.’
He follows Mia into the front room, and once she’s chosen a chair, he lowers himself into the other. Sam crosses his arms, then uncrosses them, awkwardly placing them on the chair arms after a somewhat lengthy deliberation. He begins to chew his lip as they both stare into the fire.
‘Thanks again for bringing the wood down,’ Mia ventures, desperate to break the silence. ‘That was really thoughtful of you.’
Sam keeps his eyes on the fire and clears his throat. ‘I’m not the monster you seem to think I am, Mia.’
‘I don’t think that,’ she rushes to object. He turns to look at her, one eyebrow quirking up. The gaze he levels at her is full of … Mia can’t quite tell what it is, but it makes her stomach flip and she can’t work out if he knows the effect his look is having on her.