His Mistletoe Proposal. Christy McKellen

her emotions.

      ‘Yeah, well, grief affects people in all sorts of ways.’

      Looking back at him, she gazed right into his eyes, as if searching for something specific there. ‘It doesn’t seem to have affected you in the same way though. And I don’t mean that as a criticism.’ Her posture slumped now. ‘I guess I’m just a weaker person than you.’

      He moved towards her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

      ‘I was lucky. I got to spend a lot of time with her at the end of her life,’ he said quietly, realising now just how grateful he was to have had that opportunity.

      ‘You see, that’s the thing,’ Flora said, then swallowed hard, as if forcing back her tears. ‘I didn’t get to say a proper goodbye and it’s eating away at me. If only I’d booked my flight a day earlier. Twenty-four hours. That’s all it would have taken to have been there to hug my best friend one last time.’

      Her pain reached right inside him, twisting his guts. He drew her towards him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly to him, at last feeling a real connection to her—that they were in this together.

      She hugged him back with a fierceness that nearly broke his heart, as if she was hoping that touching someone associated with Amy might bring back the peace she’d felt when his sister was around.

      And then, as she drew back to look at him, the atmosphere switched in a second. Her pupils were blown in the dim light, making her eyes look huge. There was a strange expression in them now. Of longing. At least he was pretty sure that was what it was.

      She raised her hand to his face and slid her fingertips along his jaw, frowning as they juddered across the bristles.

      ‘You’re a good person, Alex. Amy was so lucky to have you as a brother. I wish I had someone like you looking out for me.’

      Before he realised what she was about to do, Flora lurched forwards and pressed her mouth against his, her lips warm and soft. The sweet scent of her invaded his senses as he stood there, stunned and rooted to the spot. His blood pounded hard through his veins as he fought off the strongest impulse just to let himself sink into the kiss.

      But he knew he couldn’t do that.

      Carefully, reluctantly, he drew back from her, feeling her hands instinctively tighten around his back for a second before she realised he was deliberately pulling away.

      ‘That’s a really bad idea, Flora. One I think you’ll regret in the morning when you’re stone-cold sober.’

      She shook her head, looking a little bewildered. ‘I won’t—’

      But he wasn’t prepared to argue this with her when she was drunk and hurting. ‘Come on, it’s time for you to go to bed.’

      Her shoulders slumped as if all her energy had drained away now and she meekly allowed him to lead her out of the living room and into what he correctly surmised was her bedroom.

      ‘Just sleep it off, okay? Things will seem a bit better in the morning. We just need to take each day as it comes.’

      She nodded, then yawned loudly. ‘I’m so tired,’ she murmured.

      ‘I can tell,’ he said, pulling back the duvet so she could crawl into bed, still wearing her clothes. He figured it was probably better to leave her like that than attempt to undress her—that could only lead to more misunderstandings. Once she was settled, he pulled the duvet over her and went to fetch her glass of water from the living room. By the time he returned with it she seemed to be asleep already, her breathing soft and regular in the quiet of the room.

      He watched her for a moment, just to make sure she really was asleep, feeling a sudden swell of compassion for her. Shaking off the weird twitch of nerves this produced, he crept out of the room, letting out a big yawn of his own. His insomnia seemed to have well and truly caught up with him today. Moving over to the sofa, he lay down, pulling a blanket he found neatly folded on the arm over his body.

      He’d stay here for an hour or so, just to make sure she wasn’t ill. He knew how evil that local cider was—he’d been caught out by it himself before.

      Shifting onto his side, he felt the waistband of his jeans dig in to him, so undid them and shucked them off. Yes, that was much more comfortable. Though he was pretty hot now. She seemed to have her heating turned up to full. He tugged his T-shirt off too, feeling relief at the sensation of cooler air on his hot skin. His whole body felt overstimulated after the kiss she’d planted on his mouth.

      Pushing the memory far out of his head, he let out a deep sigh to expel the tension. After the soul-crushing end to his relationship with Tia, the very last thing he needed right now was to get caught up in something new. He had a strong suspicion, from what he’d seen of Flora so far, that someone as intense and focused as her would be the kind of woman who would want to go all in on a relationship too. He needed to look after himself right now, so there was no space for anyone else in his life.

      Fluffing up the cushion, he flopped back down and let out a groan of tiredness. There, that was better. He’d just close his eyes for a minute, then get out of there once he was sure she’d be okay on her own.