Before long, the Christmas scene was complete. Snow topped the cable car’s roof and the leading reindeer pranced along with the obligatory shiny red nose. They took photos of each other standing before the scene and agreed not to post them on social media just yet, so their work would have maximum Christmassy impact when it took pride of place at the fair.

To Grady’s relief, Tess, who’d come by car, suggested to the teenagers that she dropped them home. They grabbed their coats and followed like ducklings, shouting their farewells and, ‘Thanks for the pizza!’

Suddenly, miraculously, the noisy house was empty … except for one man and one auburn-haired beauty.

Grady was alone with Laurel.

Fatigue washed over Laurel. ‘Maybe I should go, too,’ she suggested. ‘It’s been a long day. My car’s outside. People will know I’m here and think you’re a strumpet.’

Grady looked tired, too, lines of strain around his eyes, but he slid warm arms around her and kissed the top of her head. ‘Being your strumpet sounds amazing. You don’t have time to unwind with me awhile? A hot drink and a snuggle on the sofa, away from the smell of the paint, would be excellent.’

She pressed her face against his shoulder, breathing in his heat, feeling his heartbeat. A snuggle did sound excellent. ‘OK. Though I think I’m immune to the smell of paint.’ His laughter seemed to rumble through them both.

When she was propped against him on the sofa, hot chocolate in hand, one of his arms looped loosely around her, she sighed, letting her head rest on him. ‘My stomach’s been one big knot all day, especially since Niall said that about his mum going off for a few days. Do you think … Your brother and Tonya won’t have fallen out over that letter, will they?’

He sighed, his breath gliding over her skin and, to her dismay, he didn’t rubbish the idea. ‘I’ve been wondering what’s going on at Mac’s house today, too. Tonya’s lovely but a bit of a firecracker when she’s upset.’

‘Oh, hell.’ She groaned, shutting her eyes. ‘I felt so guilty when she confronted me this morning, as if I was having an affair with Mac. Why did he have to write? I was perfectly happy ignoring him as much as possible.’

He put down his mug of chocolate so he could stroke her hair. ‘Perfectly happy?’ he queried.