I crouch down to give Gizmo a head scruffle because he’s heard the clang and is watching me move around the barn from the comfort of his warm basket. I go over and stand on the right-hand side of the sleigh and lean over to push Noel’s thigh. ‘Come on, you. You’re asleep already. Do I need to take you home and tuck you into bed?’

His eyes shoot open and he blinks in the light from the barn’s single bare bulb. ‘That shouldn’t be such a sexy prospect.’ He gets to his feet and jumps down the step onto solid ground, and runs a hand over the edge he was sanding when I came in. ‘This was supposed to be a surprise. Sorry I woke you and made you come out here and see it early.’

‘Well, I’m glad I did, because otherwise you’d still be working on it, hungry and dehydrated, and you’d be exhausted in the morning.’ I step closer to him and bump my shoulder against his upper arm. ‘And you’re making me a sleigh, Noel. That’s …’ There are no suitable words for how amazing that is or how touched I am. ‘That’s unfathomable. I can’t imagine how anyone could make this. You are so incredibly talented, and—’

He wraps both arms around me and pulls me tight against his chest. His grey hoodie is open and the black cable-knit jumper underneath is soft against my skin and smells of fabric conditioner and wood dust. His chest is wide and strong and as solid as it’s always looked. It should be illegal to be this gorgeous, warm, funny, and kind-hearted to boot.

‘You’d even hug me to get out of hearing a compliment,’ I say into his chest.

‘I can stop if you’re complaining,’ he murmurs against my hair, not sounding like he has any intention of stopping.

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him too, just in case he has any doubts about how I’d happily stand here hugging him for the rest of the week.

Without breaking the hug, he starts carefully manoeuvring us towards the door, one step at a time, until his leg bumps against the tool cabinet and knocks the mugs together again.

He turns his head to the side and calls, ‘Giz, bedtime!’ I look over my shoulder to see Gizmo give him a doggy glare, huff, and then reluctantly step out of his basket and have a lazy stretch like he’s got all the time in the world.

Noel turns us again, and I can feel him fumbling for the door, but we stumble and it swings open under our weight, and we fall out of it and into … snow.

‘Well, that woke me up.’ He’s trying to sound grumpy but his eyes are bright as he looks around.