Second Chances at the Log Fire Cabin: A Christmas holiday romance for 2018 from the ebook bestseller. Catherine Ferguson
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invisible.
I’m going to die …
Someone is calling my name. At first it sounds far away in the distance but it’s getting closer.
‘Roxy? Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.’
I open my eyes and Jackson’s face is right there, frowning. I take in a huge gulp of air and start coughing, as if the action will clear the blockage in my nose and throat. I’m still trying to shake off the last remnants of the horrifying dream.
‘What on earth happened?’ asks Jackson when I’ve calmed down a bit.
I swallow and turn away from his scrutiny. ‘It was nothing.’
‘Christ, that must have been some nightmare.’ Jackson looks appalled. ‘Look, you’re still shaking.’ He takes hold of my hand. ‘Can I do anything? You’re not going to be sick, are you?’ He recoils slightly, in alarm.
I shake my head, wanting to put his mind at rest. Jackson’s not great with people throwing up. Or any kind of mess, really.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a moment,’ I manage to croak. ‘I just need to do some deep breathing.’
‘Do these nightmares happen often, then?’
I try to shrug it off. ‘I’ve had a few.’
To be honest, I thought these terrifying dreams would start to fade over the years, but if anything, they seem to be happening with greater frequency. And they’re just as scary as they were at the beginning.
But I don’t want Jackson to know any of this.
‘Roxy, you’re white as a ghost. Are you sure you don’t need to – erm – go to the bathroom?’
I shake my head.
‘Have you any idea what’s causing these bad dreams?’
I stare at him. If ever there was a time to tell him everything, it’s now. But I’m not prepared to risk losing Jackson, the way I lost Billy. So, instead of telling him the truth, I take a deep breath and say the first thing that comes into my head. ‘It’s money. I’m stone broke and I’m going to have to move out of here and go back to live with my parents.’ I give a rueful smile. ‘Nightmare.’
He blinks. ‘Oh. Right,’ he says, as if that hadn’t been what he was expecting. ‘Where do your parents live?’
‘On the south coast? Worthing?’ His question throws me for a moment. I can’t believe he’s forgotten. We’ve had a few chats about where we grew up and I can remember all the details of his childhood. I can even name the school he went to.
He frowns. ‘That’s a long way from here.’
I nod gloomily.
‘So move in with me,’ he says with a shrug.
There’s a brief silence as I stare at him, completely befuddled. Did he just say: So move in with me?
My heart starts to thump. I must have misheard him, surely.
He chuckles. ‘Well? Say something, Roxy.’
I sit up straight so I can properly read his expression and he’s smiling down at me with this cute, slightly vulnerable look on his face. He might even be blushing, although it could be the Christmas tree lights casting a rosy glow.
Oh my God, he actually means it! He wants me to move in with him!
My mind is racing at this quite surreal turn of events. It’s all so sudden. But I’m crazy about Jackson, no doubt about that, so …
‘I’d love to.’ I gulp. ‘Move in with you.’
And in the blink of an eye, I go from the aftermath of a painful recurring nightmare to dancing a Highland fling in my head with happiness …
‘You do realise you’ll be on the telly, Roxy.’
Flo grins excitedly at me in the mirror above my dressing table.
It’s a week later – the first day of December – and I’m getting ready to go out with Jackson.
I laugh. ‘I hardly think so, Flo. It’s not as if we’re actual contestants on the show. We’ll just be part of the audience.’
‘But still,’ she insists. ‘You should wear that beautiful pale green dress Jackson bought you, just in case the camera lands on you. The colour will look fab with your long blonde hair.’
‘It’s sleeveless, though.’ I haven’t been able to wear it since he gave it to me last month, for that very reason.
‘So wear it with that little cream shrug.’ She says this matter-of-factly as if it’s no big deal.
I get back to applying mascara, which is proving a challenge because my hand is trembling so much.
The truth is, it’s not the TV show that’s making me jumpy. It’s the thought that, tomorrow, I’ll be moving in with Jackson. It’s only natural to be nervous about something like that, I suppose – it’s a bit like pre-wedding nerves. It’s a big commitment, after all.
And actually, the more I think about it, the more certain I feel that living with Jackson is absolutely the right thing to do …
At ten o’clock tomorrow, a van will arrive to transport all my belongings to his gorgeous house in a gated community twenty miles from here, in the heart of the Surrey countryside.
Flo seems more excited about the cutting-edge design of his house than anything, although since she’s really into architecture, I suppose that’s understandable.
But to be honest, I’d live in a caravan as long as I was with Jackson.
And I think he feels the same, judging by what he said to me the other day before he flew off to Spain.
He was heading abroad to negotiate a property deal. I drove him to the airport, parked at the drop-off point and asked him if he’d miss me while he was away – and his reply was so lovely, I find myself still thinking about it days later.
He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to look deep into my eyes. ‘Roxy,’ he murmured, ‘just the thought of spending even a couple of days without you is unbearable. What’s the bee supposed to do without the honey?’ He shrugged with a wistful smile, looking so cute and vulnerable that tears sprung to my eyes.
When I told Mum I was moving in with Jackson, she burst out, ‘And about time, too!’ She didn’t mean it was time I moved in with Jackson – we’d only been together a couple of months – but that it was time I finally let a man get close to me.
Now that it’s actually happening, I can’t help feeling nervous. But I’m really excited, thinking about our future together.
‘How on earth did Jackson get tickets for this TV show?’ Flo asks now, looking green with envy.
‘Oh, you know Jackson.’ I can’t help saying it with a touch of pride. ‘He’s got contacts everywhere.’
It’s true. He’s always networking, dashing off to some event or other to ‘press the flesh’. Flo once joked that he’d attend the opening of an envelope if it meant widening his business circle, and there’s more than a grain of truth in what she said. But I think it just shows how much drive Jackson has to succeed. He’s got an entrepreneurial mind with a keen eye for a new business opportunity. He puts it down to growing up in a single-parent household with his mum, Maureen, who was utterly devoted to him but had very little money. She held down three jobs, cleaning and working as a waitress, to keep their heads above water.
Last year, Jackson bought Maureen a modern three-bedroom house in a lovely area