Without engaging his brain before he spoke, Grady said, ‘Good for her,’ then wished he’d opted for something more noncommittal as Laurel became pensive. They trudged in silence for a while after that, trailing footprints through the winter landscape, their coats sprinkled white as if from a giant sugar shaker. When they’d walked for an hour, they took a path back onto Little Lane and slipped and slithered their way up through a village full of brightly lit Christmas trees, back to Mistletoe Cottage.

Grady understood Laurel’s quiet mood. He’d praised Daisy for forgiving her bully, which must have seemed a criticism of Laurel for not being able to do the same. In actuality, he agreed with her that feelings couldn’t be controlled. Daisy felt one way about Scarlett. Laurel felt differently about Mac. He understood why she couldn’t forgive Mac. It made his heart heavy but he understood. What he’d planned to ask her jumped to the front of his mind.

It seemed like the kind of conversation that would go well with alcohol, so after they’d shed their coats and boots and left them to dry he took the first bottle of champagne from the fridge.

She raised her eyebrows and managed a smile as she watched the festive froth and sparkle he poured into glasses. ‘Champagne in the afternoon?’

He kissed her mouth. ‘Why not?’ He grabbed a box of chocolates for good measure, leading her into the sitting room, where it was warm and the mistletoe dangling over the sofa gave him a reason – no, an obligation – to kiss her. Ensconced on the soft cushions, they toasted each other with the bubbling champagne.

Then he looked into her eyes. ‘You’ve thought about leaving the village now that your family no longer needs you so much.’

All light left her face but she didn’t contradict him. ‘Leaving might be best.’

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.