He traced the line of her silky cheek with one fingertip. ‘Let’s leave together.’

Her eyes widened, lips parting in shock.

His heart ached at the idea of leaving so much he loved but he pressed on. ‘If you can’t be truly happy in Middledip, if you would always worry about crossing paths with Mac, we could start somewhere new, together. I love you. I don’t want you to be sad.’ He smiled. ‘I know things would still be tricky regarding Christmases but we’ll find a way around that.’

Rather than lighting up with pleasure, as Grady had thought she might, she paled. ‘But—’ she began.

Then the front door opened and Mac shouted, ‘Grady, our bloody rice cooker’s up the spout. Tonya says can we borrow yours because all of her cousins are coming tonight for a curry—’ He halted in the sitting room doorway. ‘Oh. Shit. I’m supposed to knock. Sorry.’ He looked guilty and sheepish, eyes flitting to Laurel, who instantly looked away.

Irritation welled up in Grady, not just at the interruption or Mac forgetting he was supposed to knock, but that his actions made leaving the village necessary in the first place. With an effort, he stifled the urge to tell his brother to piss off. ‘It’s OK,’ he said shortly. ‘But it’s upstairs somewhere because it takes up too much room in my kitchen. Just hang on.’

It wasn’t until he was yanking things out of the narrow storage cupboard under the eaves of his bedroom that a chill stole over him as he realised he’d left Laurel alone in a room with Mac. She’d hate it. Hell. But he could hardly dash back downstairs and bring Mac up with him now.

Laurel stared at Mac. Mac stared back. He shifted uncomfortably. ‘I honestly didn’t contrive this,’ he said. ‘But as we’ve ended up here together … and Christmas is a time—’

She just knew he was going to say for forgiveness. He was going to try again to apologise! Fury reared up in her at the way he kept ignoring her wishes and the desire for revenge smashed over everything else, sweeping away her knowledge that she was better than that. She saw the perfect opportunity to hurt Mac Cassidy in a way that would change his life as he’d changed hers.

And she took it.

‘You can be the first to congratulate us,’ she said, waving her champagne. ‘Grady’s just asked me to move away from the village and live with him. And I’ve said yes.’

Mac physically reared back. His face turned perfectly white. ‘Grady’s going to leave?’ he repeated stupidly.

Laurel’s throat dried. Mac looked so stricken, so shocked, she might as well have punched him.

And she couldn’t have felt worse, even if he had punched her back.

Grady’s feet thundered on the stairs and he arrived back in the room, the stainless steel rice cooker in his arms, power lead trailing.