Chapter 9 #2
Murmurs of appreciation surround us. I tell myself, win or lose, right now I don’t care. Even though in my heart I do, and I automatically close my eyes as Loreena speaks. If I don’t see her lips move, maybe it won’t hit so hard.
“So, making them two up in the competition…”
I hold my breath. Two up means it has to be us, right?
“The lights challenge win goes to—Rachel and Teddy.”
She claps her hands together, and Tommy joins in. Either not wanting to look like sore losers, or maybe genuinely appreciative of our efforts, the other couples quickly add to the applause echoing under the portico.
Teddy’s hand cups my jaw. He twists my head towards him.
“Is a congratulatory kiss okay?”
Despite the playful twitch of his mouth, his eyes are dark with a smoulder of something that sends a flash of heat to my core.
I nod, and his lips meet mine in a far too chaste kiss.
I don’t let him escape, moulding my mouth to his, drinking in the surprising warmth and sweet taste of him.
Fuck the rest of them. I know they’re watching, but surely in this moment of victory, I can savour my very attractive partner just a little.
“It was very close.” At the sound of Tommy’s voice, Teddy pulls away, and I reluctantly turn my attention back to the group.
Tommy studies the small notebook clasped in his chunky paw. “Design, colour, Christmas imagery—you were all neck and neck on points. But Loreena and I couldn’t get past the sheer brilliance of the concept of the star over the stable.”
I flush with pride. It was my idea.
“Well done,” Haley says.
“Great job,” Christian adds.
Liv pulls me into a hug, and Garrett claps Teddy on the back. He’s not really that much older, but I’ve noticed the way he treats Teddy like a gruff big brother. It’s nice.
Sam is too busy berating Ollie for something he didn’t get right on their door display. Poor Ollie is taking the blame for the loss in his usual good-natured way.
“And while we didn’t say anything about adding music, to have a song playing alongside the lights was perfect. An apt choice, too.” Loreena grins at us.
My baffled gaze swings from her to Teddy.
“Music? A song?”
He grins across at me. “Thought the drummer boy had better contribute something.”
I frown. What the hell is he talking about?
“Come see. You’ve got your phone?” I check in the depths of my pocket and nod. “Good,” he says, taking my hand. “We have to take a picture for your brother. Let him see we didn’t totally fuck up his instructions.”
Teddy leads me towards the stable block, while the others amble back into the warmth of the house.
My breath billows in the chill night air.
I hug my coat tight around me, grateful for the warmth of his hand tucked around mine as we step through the stone archway, our footsteps echoing in the peaceful stable area.
“Let’s do a selfie,” I suggest.
We snuggle in close, and I raise the phone, framing us on the screen. We look so good together, him and me. The happy buzz I feel tucked in beside him, with the rippling lights of the star above our heads, only hums louder at the thought. I hate it when he breaks away.
“We need one of you with it,” he suggests. “After all, it was your brilliant idea.”
I push my phone at him and race over to stand beneath the star, channelling my best red carpet pose.
“Now you,” I say, taking the phone back.
“Nah,” he says. “I don’t need a picture of me.”
“But I do,” I insist. “Come on. Please?”
For some reason, it seems important to capture Teddy here like this.
Maybe it’s because this time with him is fleeting.
Maybe because I want to remember everything about this week.
The past two days are the first time I could say I’ve really felt happy since Pierre walked out.
Either way, I need this picture to look back on in the future, whatever that might look like.
He takes his place beneath the star, first stripping off his hat, leaving his hair adorably mussed up.
The light reflects off it in dancing little red flashes.
Illuminated by the starlight, he looks so young and innocent, not the naughty-but-charming man who’s got me wanting to do things with him that are far from innocent.
“Smile,” I say. “You made a winning design.”
He dips his head shyly, as if he’s not at all used to having his picture taken, when he’s had thousands splashed all over newspapers and social media for the past four years.
His mouth tips up in a small smile that unleashes those sweet dimples.
I swallow hard and snap photo after photo as a bemused expression spreads across his face.
“Enough,” he finally says, raising a hand. “Ever thought of joining the paparazzi?”
I laugh and wander over to him.
“Can I have a copy?” he asks. “Of the pictures.”
“Sure,” I thrust my phone at him. Give me your number. As he taps it in, I wonder how many other girls have that number. And how many would probably kill to get it.
“Okay, Teddy,” I say, once he’s done. “Time to reveal the source of the mysterious music that so impressed Loreena and Tommy.”
He points to the door. Right next to where we mounted the switch for the lights, sits a handwritten sign. Just a small piece of card nailed to the wooden door frame, with wonky felt-tip lettering that reads ‘THIS WAY FOR SOUND’ and a large black arrow.
“Off you go.” Teddy nudges me towards the stable door, and I step through into the gloom. The soft nicker of a horse acknowledges my presence, and others join in a gentle welcome chorus.
It’s not as dark inside as I expected, and straight away I see why. On a stand sits a small wedge-shaped piece of equipment. The brightly lit display glows, illuminating a flat black pad above. It’s divided into six squares. Taped to one is a piece of paper with the words ‘PRESS HERE’.
Like Alice in Wonderland, I don’t pause to question the instruction.
I reach out and press the rubbery surface.
Immediately, bands of red light spring magically to life, and above me, a flurry of drum beats pours into the darkness.
I trace the sound to its source, a small speaker tucked on a shelf in between jars of hoof conditioner and lice killer.
Other instruments join the drums, and I feel like I know the song, but for a moment it eludes me. Teddy joins in the rhythm, his hands unable to resist the pull, effortlessly beating out a complex pattern against the wooden frame of a stall door.
The lyrics kick in, and now the pa-rum-pum-pum-pum is unmistakable. I smile as I recognise the opening words of ‘Little Drummer Boy’.
Now I know why we won. It wasn’t my grand ideas, or Geordie’s careful instructions. It was this musical magic, woven in secret by Teddy. My little drummer boy.
It was a favourite of all the Christmas carols I learned as a kid.
It didn’t seem so old and heavy with religion like the others.
This modern version is enchanting, voices weaving in harmony and beneath it all the relentless rhythm of the drums. My eyes meet Teddy’s, and something arcs between us.
He plays, hands thumping on the wood, while the curious horses peer over their doors, their heads swaying as if enjoying the performance.
The music tugs at a deep nostalgia within me, and without thought, my voice slips in alongside the recording and Teddy’s constant rhythm, and it’s beautiful.
“When did you even do this?” I ask when the drumbeats finally taper away to nothing.
“While you were up in your room, taking your nap.” He echoes the lie I told back at me.
Even though I feel like I could trust Teddy like I’ve trusted Sam, I haven’t let him in on my secret.
The less people who know the shameful truth, the better.
I promised Haley I wouldn’t do any work while I’m here, then from day one broke that promise behind my closed bedroom door.
But there’s too much at stake. With a partner’s seat so close, and a rival for it breathing down my neck, some work is inevitable. I brush away the guilt with a smile.
“And you just had all this gear lying around?”
“Oh yeah. This is all standard stuff.” He reaches over to turn off the equipment. “Took me a minute to find the track and add it to the sampler pad. A couple to hook up the speaker. The hardest bit was nailing on the sign. Bashed my thumb with the hammer.” He waves a bruised-looking thumb at me.
“Let me see.” I capture his hand in mine. The thumbnail is already blackening. On impulse, I pull it to my lips.
He laughs. “Kiss it better? That’s what my mum used to do.”
“A kiss makes everything better,” I murmur.
His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face up, nose brushing mine. Even in the gloom of the stable, I see his pupils blown wide, read the wanting in his eyes. He leans in, and I sigh into his mouth.
His arms circle my waist, coaxing me closer, but the bulk of our winter jackets thwarts the fit.
I fumble for his zipper; he shifts back, giving me room.
The metal teeth rasp downward; cold air rushes between us, and in the same breath he drags one bare hand beneath the lifted hem of my jumper, fingertips skating over the warm skin of my stomach.
My breath catches; the stable smells of hay and leather, but all I hear is the quiet hitch in my throat as his thumb strokes a slow line just above my navel.
Heart thundering, I tug his shirt free, halfway through the buttons, when a sudden blast of light floods the stall.
Teddy’s amused smile freezes; we both snap away from the glare, me throwing an arm up to shield my eyes from the torch beam.
A low chuckle drifts towards us.
“Ah, so you took my advice then?” I can hear the grin in Poppy’s lilting Irish accent. “Sorry, loves, didn’t mean to startle you both. Saw some mad coloured lights and thought I’d best check we hadn’t aliens landing in the stables.”
“No, Poppy, just us,” Teddy says, his voice a little rough. “The sampler pad lights up like a Christmas tree.”
“Well, I’ll be leaving you to it, then.” Now my eyes have adjusted, there’s no mistaking Poppy’s wink, or the knowing expression on her face. “See you in the morning. That’s if you’re not too tired to ride out.”
We dissolve into choked laughter as she wanders back out of the stables, but when her footsteps fade, we’re left staring at each other in the dim light. The spell is broken. The urgency and desperation of moments ago now feel awkward.
“I’m sorry,” I splutter, my hands still pressed against his chest. “I don’t think I can do this here, now. It was bad enough when I thought the horses knew what we were up to.”
“Me neither,” he laughs. “Let’s go back over to the house.”
The walk back feels longer than it should, both of us quiet, the cold air doing nothing to cool the heat still thrumming between us. As we shrug off our coats in the hallway, my smartwatch buzzes insistently against my wrist.
I push back my sleeve, and the screen lights up with a cascade of email notifications—all from Marcus, my colleague turned rival.
No doubt he’s spent his Hong Kong weekend playing in the boys’ club with our client, while firing all the real work my way.
He’s likely promised miracles by morning, confident I’ll pull them off.
He’ll be tucked up sleeping off the whisky while I’ll be earning the win that lands on his desk.
Want the seat? Do the work. Do the work? Make him shine. That’s the kicker.
“Oh, fuck,” I breathe, the familiar knot of work stress forming as I scan the subject lines.
“What’s wrong?” Teddy’s eyes widen with concern, and he steps closer, his hand finding my shoulder.
“Just work,” I sigh, kicking off one boot with more force than necessary. “I have to sort this out now. Four hours until my colleague is meeting our client in Hong Kong, and they want amendments to the entire bloody contract.” I dispose of the second boot, each movement sharp with frustration.
The weight of choosing work over this—over him—is like a stone dragging me under. Here I am, after two months, finally letting myself want something, someone, and my phone pulls me back to the life I’ve built around deadlines and billable hours.
“Can’t someone else handle it?” Teddy asks with the resigned tone of someone who already knows the answer.
“I wish,” I say, and I mean it more than he could possibly know. “Tell the others I went to bed with a headache.” I hate how easily the lie comes, but I can’t let Haley know work is dragging me away from her wedding fun—not when she’s already worried I’m not taking enough time for myself.
“Sure,” he says quietly, but there’s something in his expression I can’t quite read. Disappointment? Understanding? Both?
I head for the stairs, each step heavy with the knowledge that I’m walking away from something that has an expiration date.
With only seven days left, I’m wasting precious hours on contracts and emails.
What should have been a simple fling feels like it’s already becoming anything but simple, and I’m running out of time to figure out what I actually want.
Behind me, I hear Teddy’s voice as he spins my cover story, and the others make sympathetic noises about my supposed headache.
In my room, I sit on the edge of the bed with my laptop open, the contract pages blurring on the screen.
Through the window, I can see the stables, where we almost crossed the line into something more than partners in a stupid contest. But “almost” seems to be the story of my life—almost married, almost in love, almost brave enough to choose something other than work.