The fire glowed orange and I lounged on the sofa, a glass of wine in one hand and a good book in the other. I may have been reading a psychological suspense novel, but I couldn’t have felt more relaxed.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jeremy said, entering the room. “About next Christmas.”
“Really,” I replied. As far as I was concerned, it was only March and we still hadn’t recovered from the last one. “It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it?”
“I’m being serious,” he said.
So was I.
“I’ve decided we should do something different this year.”
I looked up from my page, his assertiveness surprising me. Jeremy had always been more of a negotiator. I’d been caught out quite a few times by his ability to make me think something was for my benefit when in reality it had been more for his. “Dangerous talk.”
I knew Jeremy hadn’t appreciated spending our first Christmas Day together at my parents’ and that given the chance, he would have come up with any excuse to get out of going. But celebrating with Mum and Dad was a given in my family and apart from the odd gripe, he’d suffered in silence. I supposed he was bound to make a stand over our second Christmas at some point and deciding it only fair I listen, I let my book fall and swung my legs forward to make room for him to sit.
“Don’t you think it would be nice to have our own little event?” he asked, plonking himself down next to me. “Just you and me, without all the fuss?”
I’d have been lying if I’d said the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. But going to Mum and Dad’s house wasn’t just tradition, it was expected. “Yes, but…” I could already envisage their disappointment at not having us there. “You know how much they love Christmas.”
“Really?” He feigned surprise.
I laughed. “Don’t be like that.”
He shifted round to face me. “Be honest. Where would you rather be? Here in the cold? Or somewhere hot, strolling hand in hand along stretches of white sandy beach?”
Picturing the scene, it was a far cry from all the festive sleet and slush I was used to. “I think we both know the answer to that.”
“Would you rather we were shading ourselves under a palm, or gathered around a Christmas tree?”
I let out a wistful sigh. “Shading under a palm any day of the week.”
Jeremy smiled. “Then how does ten days in the sun sound?”
“Heavenly.” Thanks to Jeremy’s word painting, I was already there.
“Worth missing out on Christmas pudding with your parents for?” he asked.
I scoffed. As romantic as he’d made it sound, Jeremy had never gone in for that kind of ardour. In the six months we’d known each other, the wordromancehadn’t featured in the man’s vocabulary, let alone put that kind of pressure on his wallet. His idea of extravagance had been a bunch of garage carnations. “As if,” I said.
He raised an eyebrow in response, enough to tell me he knew something I didn’t. “What’s really going on here?” I asked. In my experience, men only went all out when they’d been up to no good and I looked at him, suspicious. “What have you done?”
“I haven’tdoneanything,” Jeremy replied.
He reached into his pocket. “Unless you include this.” He pulled out a folded sheet of paper and held it out.
“What is it?” I asked. Opening it up, I scanned its contents, my eyes widening in disbelief with every word. I looked from the sheet to Jeremy, telling myself that he didn’t do things like book holidays. April Fools’ Day had to have come early. “This is some kind of joke, right?”
“Nope, it’s for real,” Jeremy replied, sitting there with a big satisfied grin. He nodded to the paper in my hands. “And that’s the booking confirmation to prove it.”
My excitement was building. “The Caribbean? Really?”
“Really.”
I giggled as I looked at the sheet again, bouncing up and down in delight. I threw my arms around Jeremy and planted a kiss on his lips, any concern for Mum and Dad disappearing into the ether.
“Are you even listening to me?” Mum said, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yes,” I replied. “I’m listening.”
