Page 32 of The Christmas Competition

“No problem.”

I turned away, heading for the living room door and ultimately the kettle. “But you have to let me pay for any materials needed.”

“Yeah. Deal,” he said, following me into the kitchen, where I pulled out a chair for him to sit on. “And I’ll also make sure your lights setup is safe.” He paused, a smile threatening the corners of his mouth. “Though that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you win.”

I let out a laugh. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.” We gave each other a smile across the room. “Tea or coffee?” I asked him.

“Coffee, please.”

I set about making us a cafetiere of coffee, nice and strong because we needed it.

Once it was ready, I took two steaming mugs over to the table, sitting across from him and sliding his mug over.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice like velvet.

We sipped our drinks, stealing glances at each other over the rims of our mugs. I tried to stop myself from thinking about how Kerr had done more, and had offered to do more, for me over the past twenty-​four hours than my family or Drew had ever done for me in my life. Well, perhaps not all my family. I know that Aisha tried to look out for me, in her own way. But I would never let her borrow the role of protector from me.

Eventually he cleared his throat. “I came straight over here. That’s why I look a mess. Sorry.”

I had suspected this when I saw his outfit but had suppressed the idea, because why would he care enough about me to do that? Though he had cared enough to run into a minorly burning building . . . but that was to save Izzy. And he was by definition an animal person—​he was a vet for goodness’ sake—​albeit a vet who had accidentally injured Izzy with his car.

I also cleared my throat. We were the two most awkward people ever. “That’s okay. I’m glad that you did. I wanted to wait for you at the hospital but they basically kicked me out.”

I was rewarded with a small smile and it felt like a piece of treasure. I wanted to lock it up in a satin-​lined box, keep it safe for only me to glance at and absorb its shiny warmth.

Setting my mug down, I took a deep breath. “I need to apologize to you.”

He frowned. “What for?”

I forced myself to maintain eye contact. “For bursting your Santa.”

He paused for a couple of seconds, eyeing me curiously. Clearly he never thought he’d get a confession, never mind an apology.

“For what it’s worth, it was an accident.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

“Well. At first it was deliberate. Then it turned into an accident.”

He chuckled warmly, and in that moment I decided that I really liked making Kerr Murdoch laugh. “And how does that work, then?”

“Okay. So.” I leaned onto my elbows earnestly, making him smile. “I got the idea in my head, about killing your Santa, because someone at work said her ex had pissed her off so much that she ‘popped.’ And I was really angry about you buying the same one. So I got home . . .” At this point, I scraped my chair back and stood to the side of the table, still facing him, miming my actions. “And I put on a black outfit.” I mimed pulling on trousers and a top. “Then a black hat.” On went the imaginary hat. “And a scarf.” I wound the pretend scarf round the bottom of my face. “Then, I crept across the road.” I tiptoed deliberately across the dining area, Kerr watching me with a smile dancing in his eyes.

The sleep deprivation was probably making me a bit delirious and uninhibited, but his smile egged me on in my ridiculous actions. “I crept up to the Santa with my shiny, pointy pin.” I drew my arm back, gripping an invisible Santa. “But then, what do you know?” I did an exaggerated shrug, sticking out my bottom lip, and took pleasure in the smile now spilling out of his eyes onto his face.

“I couldn’t do it! My conscience wouldn’t let me. Then what do I spy through your living room window, but you being all coochy-​coo with my Iz!” I exclaimed this last part, pointing my pretend pin at him.

“Hey,” he said, letting out a short laugh. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

“Oh, many apologies,” I said, tucking my pretend weapon back into my side. “Anyhow. I was distracted by your display of cat cuddles and kindness, I went all gooey-​eyed, moved to try to get a better look, tripped on the guide rope, and . . . ahh!” I mimed tripping up, throwing myself onto the rug and then peering down in horror at the imaginary punctured Santa underneath me, back up at Kerr with a look of mock horror on my face, back down at Santa.

His eyes were wide, and he stayed silent for a beat. A beat in which the realization fully dawned that I had danced about the room like a loon in front of the man who couldn’t stand me. Embarrassment began to creep in as I realized exactly what Drew would say if he were here now. Calm down, Nisa. You’re being over-the-top.

Just then Kerr let out a big, hearty laugh, and a ripple of relief soothed my embarrassment in a cooling wave. His brow was relaxed, eyes bright, with a wide smile showcasing straight white teeth, and I dared to think that he was laughing with me, rather than at me. That he had enjoyed my silly display.

A smile spread over my face as I climbed off Pretend Santa and took a bow, my embarrassment tamping back down. “Thank you. And the rest, as they say, is history.”

He held his stomach as if his laughter had been strong enough to make it spasm. “I wish I could’ve seen that. It sounds hilarious.”