When Christmas Comes to Town Read online

  She hesitated before replying. “It’s fine. I probably deserved it for throwing myself and the flowers at you.”

  Rhett chuckled. “That wasn’t why I yelled. Did you know that you’re actually the first woman to have done that?”

  “No one ever threw flowers at you before?”

  “No. Nor given me flowers, either.” He held out a hand. “Rhett Butler.”

  She hesitated for a moment and then gripped his hand lightly. “Ivy Eston.”

  His heart sped up at her light touch, but he shook himself. He didn’t have time for that, now or ever. “I should probably get back.”

  Ivy nodded. “Me, too. I promise I won’t park in the way again.”

  As Rhett watched her move away, her ankle twisted. He ran to catch her before she landed on the cold pavement. “You OK?”

  She nodded, her already rosy cheeks deepening in colour. “Just clumsy.”

  He glanced down at her heels. “If you ask me, that’s your problem right there. Not sure how anyone can walk on those.”

  “I can’t, if I’m honest. But they do make me taller.”

  “Better to be safe than taller. You sure you can make it back to where you parked?”

  Ivy nodded.

  “OK.” Rhett let go. “Bye, then.”

  “Bye.”

  He strode across to the others. He raised an eyebrow at the look Jared gave him. “Run out of work to do?”

  Jared grinned. “You like her, and from the flustered looks she was giving you, she likes you, too.”

  Rhett groaned. “You are as bad as my sisters.”

  “Frankly, it’d be remiss of me if I didn’t look out for you. Maybe you should ask her to this family thing you really don’t want to go to. If you took a date, it’d get your sister off your back for five minutes.”

  Rhett had to admit that Jared had a point, and maybe it was something to consider. But not now. “True. But I’m not worrying about that yet. I have a kid to yell at regarding playing with chemistry sets in a shed.”

  3

  At the end of a busy day, Ivy finally let herself into the house and toed off the evil shoes. A sigh of relief went upwards. She hated heels, preferred her trainers any day of the week, but also hated being short. At least the heels gave the illusion of height. Maybe that firefighter had a point. She couldn’t walk in them and was clumsier than normal when wearing them.

  Her feet slid into slippers, encasing her aching heels and toes in a fluffy, warm hug.

  She should just accept the fact she never would be tall enough to reach the top shelves without help. Not that five foot two-and-a-half was particularly short, just shorter than her twin and everyone else in the family. And that she hated.

  Decision made, Ivy grabbed said shoes, along with two other pairs from the shoe rack by the door. She’d toss them in the bag of clothes in the kitchen that she had ready for the clothing drive in the morning.

  She flicked on the light and trotted down the hall to the kitchen. Dinner smelled good. She’d put on the slow cooker before she’d left, knowing she wouldn’t have time to cook from scratch when she got in. At least she hadn’t set fire to the kitchen as Holly had that time. That would be embarrassing. Especially if he turned up to put the fire out.

  Dumping the high-heeled monstrosities into the sack of clothes she planned to donate, Ivy tied the handles. She checked on dinner and then carried the sack to the front door. She’d put it out later.

  She sighed. No, she’d do it now. By the time she’d eaten, done the dishes, and had a bath, she wouldn’t want to go out in the cold to put the sack where it could be seen. Grabbing the sack with one hand, she opened the front door and carried it outside.

  A blast of wind slammed the front door behind her.

  Noooooo!

  She dropped the bag and pushed at the door in the vain hope she’d remembered to put the latch on. But of course, she hadn’t.

  So here she was, locked out of her own house, in slippers and sans coat. And her phone was still in her handbag in the hall. Now what?

  None of the houses around her had lights on inside yet, although most had on outside Christmas lights.

  Ivy shivered and rubbed her arms. If she didn’t think of something in the next few minutes, she’d freeze or catch a cold.

  A car pulled into the drive opposite. Must be the new people. She’d been meaning to go over and say hello, but hadn’t had the chance. Perhaps they’d let her use the phone to call Holly who could then come over with the spare key.

  Ivy checked both ways before crossing the road. “Excuse me?” She waved a hand, and then her foot went out from underneath her as she hit a patch of wet mud. “Ohhhh.”

  She hit the ground hard, pain rocketing up her back and her arm.

  “Are you all right?”

  The voice seemed familiar. She glanced up into the square jaw and dark eyes of the firefighter from that morning. And yes, his hair was as dark as she’d imagined.

  Her cheeks scorched, and she closed her eyes, mortified. Not again.

  Rhett hunkered down beside her, his warm hand touching her cold arm. “Ivy?”

  “I’m such an idiot,” she moaned.

  “Are you hurt?” His hands ran over her arms and legs. “You’ve grazed both hands by the looks of it.”

  “My pride hurts more than anything else.” Ivy glanced up at him. “I can’t believe I just did that again.”

  He winked. “Third time, so you should be OK for a while now.” He helped her to her feet. “Anyway, what was it you wanted?”

  She looked at him, brushing her sore hands on her thighs. “Wanted?”

  “You said ‘excuse me’ before you fell.”

  “Oh, yes.” Ivy bit her lip, having totally embarrassed herself, again. How much worse could things possibly get? “I was wondering if I could use your phone to call my sister. I locked myself out, and she has a spare door key.”

  Rhett grinned. “Let’s see if I can’t break in for you first.”

  She did a double take. “Break in?”

  He laughed. “Trick of the trade.” He hung his coat around her shoulders. “If I can’t, you can wait in my place ‘til your sister gets here. Can’t have you freezing.”

  Ivy gratefully slid her arms into his coat and tugged it around her. “Thank you.”

  Rhett opened the boot of his car and retrieved a tool bag. “After you. Although, on second thoughts…” He shut the boot, before sliding an arm into hers. “Perhaps I should escort you.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, I might fall and take us both down.”

  He glanced at her feet, chuckling as he saw her slippers. “It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

  Back over the road, Rhett first glanced up at the house. “Glad all your windows are shut, though that would have been easier.”

  “My bedroom window is probably open,” Ivy said thoughtfully. “I don’t think I closed it this morning, although I meant to. I always sleep with it open no matter how cold it gets.”

  “I’ll look. Wait here.”

  “There’s a latch on the top of the back gate.” Ivy didn’t argue as Rhett headed around the side of the house. The back gate would be easy for him to open. It wasn’t padlocked shut, and yes, it should have been. She didn’t normally bother as she couldn’t reach it anyway.

  It wasn’t long before the front door opened. Rhett grinned at her. “Do come into your house,” he quipped.

  “Don’t mind if I do.” Ivy dashed inside, glad to be back in the warmth of her home. “Can I offer you a coffee or something for your trouble?”

  “That would be lovely. Although it smells as if your dinner is ready, and I don’t want you to delay it.”

  “Then would you like to stay?” The words were out before she even thought them through. “I made more than enough for just me. I always make lots so I can freeze several portions. Unless you have dinner cooking or other plans.”

  “No plans, other than take out. I’d love a hom
e-cooked meal. I’ll go and put my stuff back in the car and be right over.”

  Ivy nodded. “Put the door on the latch, and you can let yourself in.” She gave him back his coat and scurried into the kitchen.

  What had she done? She hardly knew the man, and here she was inviting him to dinner. She’d never done anything like that before, and it was certainly well outside her comfort zone—definitely more the kind of thing Holly would do. Her sister would be horrified and thrilled in equal measure by her actions.

  Ivy sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Right, she’d need two plates, glasses, serviettes, and place settings. Dinner for two. She could do this.

  Her phone beeped. She grabbed it from her bag and read the message.

  Holly: Have you a reply for me yet? I know Gran would love to see you.

  She groaned. Trust Holly to play the Gran card. About to eat dinner. You know full well I will be there. On my tod as always.

  Holly: We just want you happy, Ivy. And you can’t do that alone.

  I can be both. Ivy scowled and turned off the phone, tossing it to the worktop. She was perfectly happy or would be if everyone would stop bugging her for five minutes.

  The front door closed and footsteps echoed in the hall. “Hello?”

  “In the kitchen,” she called back. But then, here she was, about to have dinner with a man she’d only just met, and some part of her was really happy about it. So long as he wasn’t a serial killer, everything would be fine.

  4

  Rhett put down his knife and fork and picked up the glass of wine. He studied the woman across the table. When he’d left work, this hadn’t been in his plan for the evening or even in his wildest dreams. He hadn’t any idea that she lived so close. Mind you, he’d only moved into the house a couple of months ago, and he’d been away for a couple of weeks. As a result, meeting the neighbours simply hadn’t been factored into his busy life. “This is wonderful, thank you.”

  Ivy smiled. “You’re welcome.” She looked at her plate for a moment and then looked up. “Other than the fact you live over the road and are a firefighter, I know nothing about you.”

  He grinned. “Well, I have two sisters and a brother, all married. Three nephews, three nieces, and one more on the way. I’ve actually spent the last couple of weeks at my sister Judy’s. Her youngest was an emergency Caesarean, so she needed a hand with the other three once Patrick went back to work.”

  “Uncle Rhett to the rescue?”

  “Something like that.” He took a bite of the casserole. He really ought to invest in a slow cooker and have dinner ready when he got in after a long day.

  “I have you beat though. I’m the oldest of six, all of whom are married, except me. I have three nieces, six nephews, and one due in the New Year. Dad retired six months ago, and they were planning on moving to the coast where Billy lives. But Gran’s not well, so all that’s on hold for now.”

  “How many brothers do you have?”

  “Three, one sister, and one twin. That’s Holly, but she’s everything I’m not. She’s tall and thin, I’m the short, dumpy one.”

  His gaze ran over what he could see of her, his memory filling in the rest. “I wouldn’t say dumpy.”

  “I would.”

  “More like perfectly formed.”

  A rosy hue touched her cheeks. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

  “That’s a shame.” He pointed his fork at his plate. “I was hoping for seconds at least.”

  Her laugh mixed with his. “Sure, you can have seconds. Keep on with the flattery.” She loaded her fork again. “And because I’m the only one not married, and at my age, Holly keeps on and on about me being a crazy cat woman, minus the cats, and trying to set me up with every Tom, Dick or Harry she can find. It’s annoying.”

  Rhett had to agree. “Same, although in my case it’d be Thomasina, Rikki, and Harriet. And you don’t look a day over twenty-one.”

  “More flattery. I like it. Although twenty-one times two minus a tiny bit is more like it.”

  He did the math in his head, amazed at how close in age she actually was to himself. “I’ve spent the last week or so trying to come up with a reason not to attend the whole family dinner this year because I’ll have to go alone.”

  “I know, right.” Ivy’s gaze held his. “You get the same comments and sad looks, and even the kids call you the maiden aunt. Not that they know what it means as the eldest is only ten, but they picked it up from the grownups who ought to know better. If it weren’t for the fact Gran is ill, I’d have gone away for Christmas and avoided the issue. I’ve always wanted to go to New Zealand. Mind you, this year, I would only have been able to afford Margate.” She passed him the dish. “Please, take as much as you like.”

  “Thank you.” Rhett filled his plate once more. “This is so good. Did you par cook the meat first?”

  Ivy shook her head. “Nope, didn’t even brown it in a pan. Just threw it in the slow cooker with the veg, couple of stock cubes, seasoning, and water. Turn it on low for eight hours or so and bob’s your uncle.”

  “I ought to get one. That would save me cooking when I got home at night.”

  “My slow cooker is my favourite thing. It does so much more than dinners.” Ivy grinned. “It can make cakes and fudge and breakfasts, too.”

  “Breakfasts?” His ears pricked up and he looked at her intently. “Like a full English?”

  She nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes I have breakfast for dinner and only have the one pot to clean rather than several. I have a spare slow cooker if you want to borrow it for a bit. Kind of a try-before-you-buy kind of thing.”

  “I’d like that. Thank you.”

  She grinned. “You’ll have to get it down though. It’s on the top shelf in the garage still in its box. I can’t reach.”

  “I can do that.” He took another bite of the casserole. He still couldn’t believe how tender the meat was, how well cooked the potatoes were considering nothing had been part cooked beforehand. “I assume because you delivered the flowers that you’re a florist?”

  Ivy pursed her lips. “That is my current occupation, yes.”

  “Sounds intriguing.” He took another sip of his wine.

  “Not really. I’ve been a barista, cleared tables in a café, worked in a care home, stacked shelves in a supermarket, to name a few of my failures. I wasn’t really happy doing any of those, but flowers? Seems I have a talent for it, at least according to my boss. Anyway, I enjoy it. The flora don’t answer back, stay where I put them…well, most of the time.” She chuckled. “And I get to throw them at people.”

  Rhett laughed. “Yes, unfortunately some of the lads saw that, so I got a fair bit of flak this afternoon. As if my nickname wasn’t bad enough.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do they call you?”

  “Frankly.”

  She frowned. “I don’t get it. However do you go from Rhett to Frankly?”

  “I’m guessing you’ve never seen the movie ‘Gone with the Wind’?”

  Ivy shook her head. “Heard of it, but never seen it. The paperback is still sat on the bookcase, gathering dust. We should have read it in school, but they changed their minds after we’d all bought the book. Most people took it back and changed it, but I couldn’t be bothered.”

  “Ah. The main hero is called Rhett Butler and his most famous line is ‘frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’, hence my nickname is Frankly.”

  “Ah. Still it could be worse. They could have called you My Dear.”

  He chuckled. “True. Let’s hope they don’t think of that. I think the name was my parents’ idea of a joke. Not that I’ve ever found it funny. I would use my middle name, but I don’t much like that either.”

  Her eyes twinkled and she pursed her lips. “Now, you’ve intrigued me. Can I guess what it is?”

  “Go for it. But it may take a while, if you guess it at all.” Rhett leaned back in his chair. She was so easy to talk to and great company.
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  Ivy began guessing. Her ideas started sensible with James, Edgar, and Rupert, before getting sillier and sillier and ending with Rumpelstiltskin.

  “Nope. It’s Horatio, and that brings a whole host of one-eye jokes I don’t even wish to think about.”

  “Rhett Horatio,” she repeated. “And I thought mine was bad. Born at Christmas, one of a twin, and we get called Ivy and Holly. My parents did it that way around to be different, but it’s fine with me, as everyone thinks Holly is the eldest and not me. But you’ll never guess my middle name in a hundred years.”

  He finished his meal and put his knife and fork straight. “Herald Angel,” he suggested.

  “Fortunately not, but not too far off.” She gave him a few more guess before telling him. “Mistletoe. Holly got landed with Angel.” She pushed upright and grabbed the plates. “I have jelly and ice-cream for dessert, if you’d like.”

  “Definitely. I haven’t had that in a long time.”

  “Go on through to the lounge, and I’ll bring it through.”

  ~*~

  Ivy carried two bowls and spoons into the living room. He’d settled on one end of the couch in front of the gas fire. The warmth from it filled the small room.

  She glanced around trying to see the room from his point of view. The walls were painted a pale pink. A tree glowed in the corner, tinsel hung from pictures on the walls and across the top of the mirror over the fireplace. Hopefully it wasn’t too girly or over decorated.

  And with a handsome man sat on the couch, it looked more like a Christmas card and more homey than it ever had before.

  “Here you go.” Ivy held out a bowl and spoon and sat beside him.

  “Thank you.”

  “Welcome. Have you always been a firefighter?”

  “Nope.” Rhett studied the orange jelly on his spoon. “I’m actually a qualified civil engineer. I used to build bridges.”

  She hadn’t been expecting that as an alternate career. “Really? Wow. That’s a big career change.”

  He ate what was on his spoon and dipped it back into the bowl. “Just a bit.”

  “What made you change track like that?”

  He hesitated.