CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – SYLVIE
I was most definitely in the middle of a crisis right now.
At least it was one of my own, not one caused by anything wedding-related for once.
And it was all because of the man asking my opinion on a pair of boots for his sister-in-law.
Allegedly for his sister-in-law.
“You know,” I said, staring at the boots in front of us. “You said this was to cheer me up, but really, I think you just wanted a hand in finishing up your Christmas shopping.”
“It might have been a mutually beneficial endeavour,” Thomas replied, slowly nodding his head. “But, hey, haven’t you got some of your Christmas shopping done?”
I sighed. “Hands down the best thing I purchased today is a new gravy boat. I’ll have to put a sticker on this one that says, ‘Do not use to wash the pig.’”
“That’s really not something one should ever have to write on a gravy boat.”
“Well, tell that to my grandmother.”
“She scares me a bit, to be honest,” he admitted. “How did she even get the pig?”
“I have no idea, and as much as I want to know, I also don’t want to ask. I’m afraid to hear she may have kidnapped it.”
He peered over at me. “Is that really a thought you should entertain about your grandmother?”
“Not for most people, but I watched her scold someone for taking the piss out of her pig while eating a pork sandwich, so I can hardly take her seriously.”
“Ah.”
Yes.
That was about the only reply for that.
And to think that poor Gramps couldn’t even have bacon in the house.
“Which pair do you think Beth would like?” Thomas asked, leaning in towards the display. “The black ones or the brown ones?”
“How would I know? Ask your sister!”
“Mm, can’t.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not talking to me since I refused to give her a job.” He rubbed his chin. “Maybe the brown ones. I think she has an older pair like this.”
Then why was he asking me? And why would he refuse to give his own sister a job?
Welp. That was none of my business.
I leant over and peeked up at him. “Is Zara not talking to you, or are you the one not talking to Zara?”
“Bit of both.”
“...These boots are for Zara, aren’t they?”
Thomas coughed into his hand and looked to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Aw. Even he could get embarrassed.
“Go for the brown ones.” I nudged him with my elbow and smirked.
He cleared his throat. “Right. Beth will like them.”
“Yeah, sure. Beth will like them.” I rolled my eyes. Because everyone knew that giving a pair of heeled boots to a pregnant lady was a good idea. “I’m going to buy Nana some slippers. Do you think you can manage alone from here?”
“You’re speaking as though you’re shopping with a child.”
“You’d have a better argument if you hadn’t just subliminally coerced me into buying you a LEGO set.”
Thomas grinned. “You said that was for your cousin.”
“I guess you’re my cousin, then.”
“Do you often drunkenly kiss your cousin, Sylvie?”
“No, but I didn’t kiss you either, so...” I sniffed. “Finish your shopping. I haven’t had my fill of Christmas lights yet, and I didn’t let you drag me all over so you could go ahead and use me as your personal shopper.”
Thomas motioned for a store clerk to come over and looked at me over his shoulder. “There’s a mulled wine stall on the green.”
I gave him a thumb up. “Let me buy Nana’s slippers, and I’ll meet you outside.”
“You’re so easily bribed.”
“Well, I have been considering that this might be the wedding that makes me an alcoholic, so I’ve decided to embrace the inevitability of it.” I shrugged. “It’ll give me something to look forward to during the next disagreement with the bride.”
“I’m not sure if alcoholism is something to aspire to, Sylvie.”
“It’s alcoholism or sororicide. Wine suits me. Jumpsuits do not.” I smiled blithely at him. “And I was hoping to one day live without roommates, not corner myself into a situation where I’d have to share a six-by-eight space with another woman for the next twenty-five years.”
“That’s oddly specific.”
“Sometimes, the only difference between me and a serial killer is my ability to talk myself out of breaking the law. Are you scared yet?”
“Uncomfortably attracted to you, actually.”
I smacked his arm and finally put distance between us. “Just buy what you need to, and I’ll meet you outside.”
I ducked my chin and darted behind a large display before he had a chance to see the heat rising up my cheeks. How the hell could he say that so openly without a hint of shame?
I mean, I’d already acknowledged that he was a shameless flirt, and it wasn’t as if he’d made a great deal of effort to hide the fact that he was attracted to me, either.
And that was the problem.
I was making an effort to hide my attraction to him, but the more open he was about it, the harder it was for me to maintain my composure.
Stupid, considerate, handsome, flirty man.
Honestly, the longer this went on and the more he touched me, the weaker my resolve grew. It didn’t matter how many times I repeated it like a mantra inside my head or how many times I denied it.
A part of me really wanted to give in to his gentle advances.
After all, there really was no ignoring the way my heart fluttered whenever he touched me. I’d have to be inhuman not to feel anything, especially after how much time we’d spent together.
Even if our history was a bit on the chaotic side.
I bought Nana’s slippers and headed outside to wait for Thomas. Our relationship since I’d come back to Castleton was somewhat of a revelation, and somewhere between the bickering and bitching, I’d seen sides of him I’d never known existed.
If this wasn’t Castleton, if he weren’t who he was, and if my time here wasn’t limited, what would I do then? Would I accept my growing feelings for what they were and throw caution to the wind? Would I be more honest with both myself and him?
Because in truth, this was ridiculous. I’d been back here for just over two weeks. I had no business feeling such intense emotions for him in such a short time, especially when I’d felt so differently about him the first time I’d seen him again.
Was it because this place was so small that our continuous running into each other had me thinking we’d spent more time together?
Was it because he always seemed to see me at my worst and never judged me for it?
Was it because we had such a long history that my teenage crush was rearing its head again?
Or was it because the jealousy that I worked so hard to keep buried inside me was finally bursting forth uncontrollably?
Were my feelings for Thomas nothing more than my own selfish desire to feel wanted and loved?
Was I deluding myself into thinking he cared because it fulfilled something deep inside me?
God.
What a horrible thought.
“Sylvie.”
I jolted at the sensation of a fingertip poking my cheek. “Huh?”
“You were away with the fairies. Are you considering alcoholism or sororicide that seriously?” Thomas grinned, and his blue eyes lit up with silent laughter.
“No, I was just… Never mind.” I smiled back. “Did you decide on the boots?”
He held up his bag. “I took your advice. That way, if I got it wrong, I can blame you.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line. “See, now this evening shopping trip really makes sense. You just wanted a scapegoat.”
With a laugh, he held out his hand. “I’ll carry it for you.”
I eyed the bags he was already holding. “I think you’re the one who needs help with your bags, not me.”
He looked down at his heavily laden hands. “I’m not about to ask you to carry my things. I am a gentleman, you know.”
“Oh, you’re the kind of man who’ll carry in eight grocery bags in one go just so you don’t have to make two trips to the car, aren’t you?”
He grinned.
I took the two bags from his left hand, put them in mine, then held out my right hand.
Thomas looked at it. “What’s that for?”
“If you’re going to take me on a pseudo-date to cheer me up, act like it.” I wiggled my fingers.
“Aw, Sylvie, if you want to hold my hand, you only have to ask.”
“And just like that, I’ve changed my mind. Here, have your bags—”
He snatched my hand with his, interlacing his gloved fingers with mine. “You’re right,” he said, looking at me with a half-grin. “This is better than carrying all the bags.”
“You’re so… so…” I pressed my lips together, then sighed. “Fine, whatever. Where to now, Santa Claus?”
“The car. I promised you mulled wine, didn’t I?” He raised our clasped hands to his mouth and kissed the back of my hand. “Blech. That was better in the toy shop when you weren’t wearing your gloves.”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that crept out of me. “What did you expect?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. You to swoon and blush at me?”
“You should probably re-evaluate those expectations.”
“Should I? You’re the one who grabbed my hand, after all.”
“It’s all your fault for making me realise it’s not so bad to have a handsome, rich duke hang all over me, even if that guy happens to be you.”
He groaned, squeezing my hand. “I can’t cope with it when you flirt with me, do you know that?”
“If you think that’s flirting, then you’ve set the bar for my kindness very, very low. I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“I’m trying to delude myself into thinking you’re flirting with me, all right?”
“Thomas.” I stepped in closer to him and looked up at him. “Do you think I have a habit of holding hands with just anyone?”
His blue eyes met mine, and with a tiny twitch of his lips, he said, “I think I’d be disappointed if you considered me as ‘just anyone,’ Sylvie.”
“As if you could ever be just anyone.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“The person who gave me a scar on my precious face could never be just anyone in my eyes.”
He sighed. “There it is.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I leant against his side.
At some point during our conversation, we’d escaped the hustle and bustle of the high street and arrived in the car park.
After putting our haul of presents in the boot of his car, Thomas once again took my hand with a tight grip and tugged me in the direction of the green where some food and drinks stalls were set up slightly away from the hubbub of the main square.
I beat him to paying for two mulled wines and grinned at my win. I was pretty sure he’d let me get it after all my prior protestations over him buying me food before, but a win was a win.
“Are you feeling better now?” Thomas asked as we sat down on a bench slightly away from the main area. “You’ve been half out of it since we left the pub.”
“Ah.” I stared into the hot cup of wine, watching as the steam furled out into the cold air almost aggressively. “Yes. I’ve just been thinking, that’s all.”
“About Hazel and the wedding?”
I shook my head. “To be honest, I’m not that upset about all that. It’s just Hazel being Hazel and doing what she always does. I’ve been through this enough times to know she’ll come around and apologise for being unreasonable.”
“That doesn’t mean you should put up with it. What was it this time?”
“Ah… She wanted to change the wedding favours because she saw something on Pinterest, and I told her to shove that idea up her arse,” I replied.
“Then our aunt had a hissy fit because she’s on a table in the back.
She’s already pissed that Hazel didn’t invite our cousin, so she’s just being a bitch in demanding that Hazel change the seating plan. ”
“Let me guess—you told Hazel where to shove that, too?”
“Yes, but I suggested somewhere other than her arse, given that hole is probably already full with all her other idiotic ideas from the last few weeks.”
Thomas coughed, and I quickly saved his wine from being spilt as he thumped his fist against his chest. “Jesus Christ, Sylvie.”
I bit my lower lip, fighting a smile. “Sorry.”
“Are you trying to kill me?” he grumbled, taking the cup back once he’d calmed down. “Some thanks that is.”
I leant back on the bench, laughing quietly. “How dramatic of you. Of course, I’m grateful for you. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but you might have saved me more than once.”
“I’m amazed you could find it within you to admit it at all.” He grinned, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “You usually go out of your way to point out how much you don’t like me, after all.”
“I don’t… dislike you,” I said, somewhat lamely. “Surely that’s obvious.”
He said nothing.
I guess it wasn’t obvious.
I huffed out a breath and gazed out in front of me. “If you must know, you’re the reason I’ve been all kinds of spaced out tonight.”