‘Mmm.’ He let her slide down his body. ‘We wasted too much time sleeping, last night.’

Ten minutes later, they stepped outside to discover that yesterday’s freezing night had become today’s freezing morning. He wrapped an arm around her to share body heat and they staggered to The Nookery. He kissed her goodbye on the porch. ‘I still like kissing you in doorways,’ he whispered.

She gave him a playful nudge out of the way so she could let herself into the house, whispering back, ‘I like being in bed with you better.’

He jogged back to Mistletoe Cottage with her kisses still on his lips.

There was no way he’d get more sleep so he made coffee and treated himself to a leisurely shower with Stormzy blaring from his speaker. He felt … fantastic. Warm and satisfied and deeply, deeply happy. Dressing in clean work clothes, he glanced at his bed and a glint of gold caught his eye. Shoving aside a pillow, he found a gold chain. Laurel’s. She’d looked so amazing wearing nothing but that. He paused to let a wave of lust wash over him. Laurel in his bed, his arms. Him inside Laurel.

He texted her: Just found your necklace. Xxxxx

He ate breakfast at the kitchen table while dealing with emails on his laptop, chasing up an order of paint and sealant that should already have been delivered. Laurel’s text arrived a few minutes later. Thank you! Wondered where it was. :-) xxxxx

When the doorknocker sounded at about eight o’clock, he slipped the necklace from his pocket and hurried up the hall. With a wide grin he threw open the door and held out the sinuous gold chain. ‘It was in my bed—’ Then he halted. It wasn’t Laurel standing on the frosty paving stones, gazing at him.

It was Pippa.

Pale and drawn, she gazed woefully from the necklace to his face.

‘Ah,’ he said, realising he’d just thrust under his ex’s nose – literally – evidence that he was now sleeping with someone else. ‘I didn’t realise it was you.’ He slipped the golden chain back into his pocket.

Pippa burst into tears, burrowing in her coat pocket and finding a tissue to howl into.

Grady stared at her in dismay. What the hell was he meant to do? Invite Pippa in to cry in private? A big red flag flipped up in his brain at that idea, considering that last time he’d let her into the cottage she’d tried to get him to form a family with her and her accidental baby.