Page 21 of Yours for the Season

“So, Hattie,” Mel asks as they continue to walk, too aware of the quiet between the three of them, of whether she and Finn are coming across as appropriately coupled-up—and of how Finn had told her he’d drop her at the station this morning. “How’s your job going?”

“It’s great,” Hattie says easily. She does something in software development, Mel knows, though she still has no idea what Hattie’s life actually consists of day-to-day—and given how long she’s known Hattie, it feels too late to ask. Not that Hattie is one of those people who bangs on about her job—she insists that it’ll sound boring to anyone but her whenever someone asks. “And Dylan loves telling all the actor types that his girlfriend is in IT, so that’s a win for both of us. When do you find out about Lillian Hart?”

“In a few days, after the meeting.”

“You’ve got a meeting like that near Christmas? That’s harsh.”

Mel shrugs. “If Lillian Hart says jump…”

Hattie snorts. “I’ll tell Dylan you said that. And what will it mean if she’s on board?”

What will it mean? She can feel Finn behind her, letting them talk but definitely watching her, waiting for the answer too. “More recognition,” she says, “a bigger brand, the chance for growth.” All quite vague, isn’t it? And she’s not sure what it will mean for her, personally. Even less time on the designs themselves, presumably. More staff to manage. But more success, she tells herself firmly. The type of success her mum used to promise she’d have in her future, the type of success that would make everyone proud.

“What’s next?” Finn asks brightly, pulling the list from Mel’s hands and making her realize that she’s gone silent, thinking about the future of her business. Of herself, still in her flat. Alone, working into the evenings to keep up.

“A photo with a robin,” Finn reads out loud. “Surely there are tons of robins around.”

They all look around like they are expecting a robin to immediately fly in front of them. It’s quiet, and Mel realizes she can hear the sound of birdsong, and the rustling of a nearby animal, waiting for them to pass.

“Where are the others?” Mel asks. “Surely we should have caught up with them by now.”

“Oh, they are taking a different route,” Hattie says. “Mum told me. She let them go on a shorter route for Freya. She’s properly thought the whole thing through.”

“Setting us up to lose,” Finn says sadly. Mel lets out an accidental small snort of laughter, and his eyes jump to hers. She immediately scowls, just to rectify it.

“Robin,” she reminds them—and herself—firmly. When they find a bird that Hattie declares looks close enough, Finn gets in a photo with it, pointing with the most ridiculously excited look on his face, wide-eyed, mouth open.

“Okay,” he says, clapping his hands when Hattie declares the photo a work of art. “A kiss under mistletoe.” His gaze snags on Mel’s briefly. Nope. No way is she kissing him. She will not let herself remember the way his mouth felt on hers. She narrows her eyes at Finn, daring him to go there. For one moment, she thinks he’s going to call her bluff, then he turns to his sister, grins at her.

“Give us a kiss, Hatt.” He leers in an overdramatic way and it makes her shriek, darting behind Mel to use her as a shield. It was this that Mel found hard to get used to at first. She’d grown up in a loving household—but a relatively quiet one. And despite declaring Priya her fake sister for about two weeks when they were at school, and trying to make her parents let her change her surname to match Priya’s, she’s never totally got the sibling thing.

“Eugh,” Hattie says. “I’m not kissing you. I’ll kiss Mel.”

Finn takes charge, going on the hunt for mistletoe, while Hattie and Mel ponder whether they definitely know what mistletoe looks like when it’s not hung in doorways—does it grow on bushes, or trees? Trees, they decide. They cannot, however, find any in the forest, and settle for Finn holding up a twig while Hattie kisses Mel on the cheek.

“We are definitely losing points by the second,” Mel says.

“Nah.” Finn shrugs. “We’re being creative.”

There is a lightness to him that reminds her of how he’d been when they were first dating. He’d seemed so carefree and it had made it easy to fall into step with him, to be convinced that, yes, she did want to spend a night in a rundown house in the middle of nowhere with no Wi-Fi or, yes, she would book tickets for a last-minute getaway to Norway, because flights to Oslo were, apparently, on a twenty-four-hour deal. He’d nearly convinced her to get a tattoo once, and had only admitted that he’d been joking after she’d backed out.

At the beginning, it was partly this attitude that had made her so sure that it was just a fling for him. He’d clearly had more than a few of those in his time and she’d figured what the hell? She’d been single for a while—she deserved a fling, despite Priya’s warnings that she wasn’t the fling type. They’d met on New Year’s Eve, after all, where he’d clearly just been trying his luck—and she’d wanted a good story to tell, to prove that she wasn’t as boring as she sometimes feared she was. Even after their first date in Paris—in Paris, for God’s sake—it had taken her a while to realize that he really liked her. That he was staying.

Did it stop getting fun? Is that why Finn bailed—because real life and responsibility caught up to them? Or was Mark right all along when he’d said to Kristen that Finn “wasn’t the settling type.” She’d overheard that, the second time she’d met Mark, though she’d never said anything about it.

“A star out of twigs,” Finn announces. “Definitely sounds like a job for you, sweetums.”

Mel moves up beside him and very deliberately hooks her arm through his. She sees the way his gaze drops, ever so briefly, to the point where their bodies connect. She blinks her eyelashes at him when he looks back at her face. “You find me the twigs—I’ll build you a star, moonbeam.”

Finn laughs, a proper, full laugh, while Hattie looks between them. “What’s up with the nicknames?”

“We’re testing them out,” Finn says, still holding Mel’s gaze. It’s like the whole bloody forest is designed just for him—bringing out the green in his eyes, highlighting that pine scent that always makes her feel slightly giddy. “Trying to find one that sticks.”

She pulls away, getting out her phone to disguise the movement, should Hattie notice.

“Well, they are all terrible,” Hattie says. “If you start calling each other moonbeam, I think I’ll have to disown both of you before the wedding.”

It causes a sinking feeling in Mel’s stomach. The wedding. The wedding for which she won’t be there, because she and Finn will be broken up—again. And, despite the fact that she thinks of Hattie as a friend, Hattie won’t be able to invite her anymore, will she, because she’ll have to side with Finn, the way families are supposed to. Plus, after she’s broken up with Finn, none of his family will want her there, will they?