James returns with a tray, setting it on the table. “Who’s for coffee?”

Richard shudders. “Not for me James.”

“You can share mine,” offers Mitch, reaching for her teapot.

Richard scowls at the peppermint-scented steam.

James pours into a cup and saucer then offers it up. “Ryan?”

“Thank you, yes.” Ryan sips at the coffee then freezes, staring at the tablecloth. “Fuck me. Is this what he drinks?”

“’fraid so.”

He glares. “You could have warned me. It’s like fucking refrigerator coolant.”

Across the table, Mitch looks up to the mistletoe above the hearth. “Larry?”

“Yes?” He looks in the right general direction, but nothing registers in his expression.

Clueless…

She casts eyes upward again, this time definitely eye-pointing.

He shuffles in his seat. “Mitch, this isn't really...”

Mitch stands, placing herself squarely under the mistletoe, pats her lips with a forefinger. “I'm going to insist.”

Larry’s mouth works and a flush rises up his neck…

Way outside his comfort zone…

… nonetheless, he stands, loops an arm around the lovely woman and kisses her lightly on the lips…

latches on like a

surrenders to the inevitable, and opens his mouth over hers in

kisses… Rhett and Scarlet…

They had nothing.

them, his

table, I slip fingers into his. “It’s

hand,

him. “Sorry, what was

his face alight, offering the something. “Marry me.” In his outstretched hand is the

I swallow hard.

offers the ring

has fallen. Every

can’t get enough

I… think about

course, you can.” He presses the ring into my palm, curling

voice, bright and cheerful. Gratefully, I turn to him. “Kirstie,

*****

but it sounds forced. “I don’t see any new jewellery. I don’t smell perfume and you don’t have your nose stuck

“Um, with everything that happened, I don’t think…” But she’s

thought we would come to that fairly soon. Charlotte, if you would like to release your death-grip on Cara for five minutes, Michael and I will show you your Christmas present. Your present from Richard

Her forehead crinkles.

us, Babe. Go put

widen. “My

thick woollens, scarf and gloves

“But Cara…”

her,” she says. She grins too,

“Aren’t you coming?”

“I would

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