“Are you getting tired? Let me have a go.” Simon scooted next to her, and for a second his hip and leg were pressed to hers, his face so close if she turned her head they’d be kissing. Not that that was how she wanted their first kiss to happen.

Quickly Olivia scooted out from under the tree. No, she didn’t want it to happen under a tree, but it would happen. Of that she was becoming more and more sure.

Once they’d managed to saw through the trunk, they lugged the tree back to the main barn, where attendants wrapped it up and helped to tie it on top of Simon’s car. Then they repaired to the adjoining café for a much-needed hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and marshmallows.

“This has been so fun,” Olivia said impulsively as she plucked a pink marshmallow from the top of her hot chocolate and popped it into her mouth. “I’m so glad I closed the shop for the week. I haven’t a holiday in ages.”

“You weren’t tempted to skip town and have a week in the sun somewhere?”

“By myself?” She made a face. “No, I’m glad to be in Wychwood, celebrating with my mum...and you.”

She was really glad, more pleased perhaps than she wanted Simon to know. She’d tried to downplay the fact that they were spending Christmas together—her friends would make far too much of it—but it still filled her with both excitement and hope.

“So am I,” Simon said, his smile and eyes both warm. Olivia smiled rather foolishly back. Really, everything felt just about perfect.

On the way back to Wychwood, Simon asked if she minded stopping by Willoughby Manor so he could pick up the keys for number four.

“No, of course not,” Olivia said. “Who are you picking them up from?”

“The caretaker of the manor...Jace, I think his name is?”

“Yes, Jace. He’s a good friend of mine. Well, his wife Ava is, especially. She used to live in number three.”

It felt strange to pull up to the familiar courtyard of Willoughby Close with Simon; Harriet and Ellie had both already left for Christmas, and so the courtyard looked a little forlorn, the curtains drawn on all the windows except for number four. Olivia peeked inside and saw the empty sitting room where Alice’s second-hand sofa had once resided.

“Do you know where Jace’s cottage is?” Simon asked. “He said he lived nearby but I’m not sure he gave specific directions...”

“That sounds like Jace. It’s through a little path on the other side of the drive—I’ll show you.”

They walked through the wood bordering the drive, the branches bare above them, the well-worn path of packed dirt, now frozen hard. After a few minutes they emerged in a little clearing where Jace’s caretaker cottage—a small, castle-like edifice—stood, complete with frilly gingerbread and a tiny turret.

“Wow,” Simon said as he eyed the elf-like abode. “Not what I expected.”

“No, it’s a bit OTT, especially for a man like Jace.”