On Christmas Eve, Grady waited for Laurel to arrive at Mistletoe Cottage, which he’d ensured lived up to its name by hanging mistletoe in every room. He’d just about bought the entire contents of a stall in Bettsbrough and tied the bunches with glossy red ribbon. The Christmas tree was threaded with extra twinkle lights and the fridge was full to bursting with festive fare. He was trying not to mind that they’d be separating after exchanging gifts on Christmas morning. He’d spend Christmas Day with Mac while Laurel’s Christmas lay at The Nookery. He knew he could have joined her but couldn’t be that rude to Mac, Niall and Tonya, when they’d never failed to include him in every family event and celebration.

Christmas brought logistical issues for lots of couples. Whose turn is it to go here? How much time should we spend there? The last couple of years, everything had been fine. Pippa had got on OK with Mac and Tonya, and Grady with her mum and dad. It had been easy for Grady and Pippa to divide their time and everyone had seemed happy. He hadn’t had the problem that Pippa couldn’t stand the sight of his brother.

Grady and Laurel not spending Christmas Day together wasn’t symptomatic of their short time back together but of a bigger, thornier issue that occupied his mind. He thought he had a solution, if he could get Laurel to agree … but it meant a sacrifice on his part.

Laurel was due around eleven and Grady had dressed in black jeans and a soft cream-coloured jumper. He’d planned a light lunch to leave room for scoffing Christmas chocolates while they watched TV, snuggled up on the sofa. For the evening meal he’d gone totally traditional with turkey, cranberry sauce, roast potatoes, a colourful host of veg, Yorkshire puddings, pigs-in-blankets, bread sauce and every other trimming he could throw in his supermarket trolley, including two bottles of champagne.

He had something to ask her.

She arrived promptly, wearing a soft blue-grey dress that skimmed her body and made her eyes bluer than the brightest winter sky. He slid his arms around her, positioned her carefully beneath the mistletoe in the hall and kissed her. ‘Merry Christmas, gorgeous.’

She smiled, vanquishing the tiny lines of strain around her eyes that told him she was as aware as he that the festivities were highlighting the problem in their relationship: Mac. ‘Merry Christmas, handsome.’

He took her overnight bag. ‘Blimey, this is heavy.’

She grinned. ‘Don’t be a wimp.’

Wanting nothing more than to get as close to her as possible, he suggested they stow the bag upstairs.

Once in his room, she took in the bunch of mistletoe hanging over the bed and laughed. ‘Now that I like.’

‘One of my better ideas,’ he breathed. Their pleasure in each other’s bodies took over and he undressed her slowly, making jokes about her being his Christmas present, making her gasp with his hands and mouth and watching her eyes roll back with pleasure. Afterwards, they lay in each other’s arms and watched as fresh snow began to fall, whispering against the window.