Second Chances at the Log Fire Cabin: A Christmas holiday romance for 2018 from the ebook bestseller. Catherine Ferguson
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look fab.’
I frown. ‘Are you sure?’
She shakes her head. ‘I wish you’d believe in yourself more, Roxy. Honestly, you look fantastic. And once you’ve got that dress on, Jackson will think he’s the luckiest man alive, I promise you.’
She crosses her hands over her heart and smiles goofily at me. ‘By this time tomorrow you’ll have moved in with him. Are you excited?’
‘Of course I am.’
I spin back round to face the mirror, catching the trace of anxiety on my face. I am excited. Of course I am. It’s just that, living together, I’ll have no more excuses not to let my barriers down …
Jackson is picking me up in ten minutes. He flew back from Spain only this afternoon. The plane was late landing and I texted him to say I’d be just as happy with a quiet night in. But I knew he’d still want to go to the show tonight. That’s one of the things I love about him. His incredible energy. He routinely works late into the night then has to be up for a seven o’clock breakfast meeting. It’s the kind of schedule that would kill most people, but for Jackson, business is like a labour of love. His enthusiasm for what he does carries him through.
The doorbell rings and Flo dashes to the front door, returning – after some giggling in the hallway – with Fergus. They’re so loved-up, it can be pretty gruesome at times, to be honest.
But I’m really happy for her.
She’s a shining example that relationships can work out perfectly. She and Fergus had known each other for only three months when she proposed to him – and he said yes right away. Which I knew he would because they’re both absolutely smitten and totally right for each other. Everyone can see that. As I joked in my speech at their engagement party last month, no one else would have them, what with their mutual passions for battle re-enactments and liver and onions.
I’m in awe of Flo’s ability to wear her heart on her sleeve.
Five minutes later, the doorbell signals Jackson’s arrival and I grab my winter coat and bag, and totter to the door in the pale green dress, cream shrug and shoes that are much too high to actually walk in. Because I stand at five foot eleven, I’ve tended to stick mainly to flat shoes, so it’s a bit like learning to walk all over again. Jackson bought these beauties for me – nude skyscrapers with their distinctive red sole – to go with the dress. He believes a woman can never have too much glamorous footwear. He’s six foot four, which means I’m as tall as he is when I’m wearing the shoes.
‘Have fun,’ calls Flo. She catches me up in the hallway. ‘And just relax, hun. The fact that Jackson’s asked you to move in with him means he thinks you’re pretty special, okay? So stop acting as if you think he’s doing you a favour!’
I grin. ‘Yes, boss. Trouble is, no one can be as happy as you and Fergus. It’s just not possible. I mean, that proposal on the battlefield as he lay wounded will go down in history as the most romantic ever. Especially the bit where the fake blood spurted all over your face.’
She gives me a look. She’s used to me glossing over awkward moments with humour.
‘You know what I mean, Roxy. Stop holding back because you think you’re not good enough or something.’ She shrugs. ‘If I’d held back from proposing to Fergus, I wouldn’t be planning my wedding now, would I? And feeling the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.’
I laugh. ‘Er, you’re not suggesting I propose to Jackson, are you?’
‘No, of course not.’ She grins. ‘That’s just idiot me, rushing headlong in. You have to be true to yourself. And that just wouldn’t be you.’
‘I’ll stick to being boringly un-spontaneous, then, shall I?’
Before going to the TV studios, we head to an elegant bar Jackson knows for cocktails.
Although it’s only the first week in December, Christmas has arrived in style on the high street. The shops, bars and restaurants glimmer with fairy lights and a huge Christmas tree takes pride of place in the town square.
My mood soars. I love Christmas. I love the lights and the glitter. I love going for frosty walks and coming home to hot chocolate by a roaring fire. I love everything about it, really. And, this year, it’s going to be even more special than usual.
I smile up at Jackson, loving the feel of his warm hand wrapped around mine. Tonight is going to be a good night!
In the bar, we find a cosy corner table and I order a Manhattan, which makes me giggly and slips down almost before I realise. I insist on buying the next round, which is eye-wateringly expensive but well worth it, because I’m a Piña Colada convert! I tell myself it’s a special night and I won’t have to worry quite so much about rent now that I’m moving in with Jackson.
I assume we’ll head off to the studios after that, but just as we’re leaving the bar, a crowd of people that Jackson knows walks in, so naturally we stay to chat a little. From the conversation he’s having with a couple of the guys and a woman in a stunning sequinned mini dress, I gather they’re on a work night out from a company Jackson occasionally does business with.
He introduces me simply as ‘Roxy’ – no mention of the word ‘girlfriend’, which I try not to mind about. We’ve only been going out a couple of months, after all, and maybe Jackson didn’t want to be presumptuous. We join them at their table for a drink.
‘Just one,’ murmurs Jackson in my ear. ‘Is that okay?’
I smile at him, feeling deliciously mellow. ‘Of course.’
Naturally, the talk is mostly about business, so I smile and drift off, only half listening, just happy that Jackson is happy. He seems to be having a lot of chat with the woman in the stunning dress, who’s called Lara. She keeps laughing and flicking her hair and touching his arm. But watching them, I just feel proud that he’s with me. I know how important business is to Jackson and that any opportunity he has to mingle, he’s right there.
After a while, I glance at my watch and realise the time is getting on. If we’re not careful, we’ll be late to the studios. But I’m happy to leave it in Jackson’s hands – and the champagne cocktails that keep arriving are going down wonderfully well.
A little too well, I realise, when we finally make a move.
I stand up a bit too quickly, and have to cling onto Jackson because everything is spinning as if I’m on a ride at the fairground.
‘Have a great time!’ sings the girl in the sequinned dress, as we leave, giving Jackson a ‘call me’ sign.
I give her a thumbs-up because I can’t make my mouth work and I nearly fall over. Jackson grabs me just in time and I smile up at him.
Where are we going again?
Through a haze of alcohol, I vaguely recall something about the TV.
Are we going to be interviewed on the telly? God, I hope not. On the other hand, maybe being three sheets to the wind will loosen me up a bit and turn me into a reality TV star overnight! But it actually doesn’t matter where we’re going as long as my gorgeous man is here to cling onto. Jackson will look after me! Jackson Cooper loves me, not that girl in the naff, sparkly dress he was talking to for ages!
At the TV studios, Jackson asks me if I need the bathroom, which makes me giggle and tell him I’m not ten. Then he takes my arm quite firmly and steers me up the steps to our seats. It seems to take quite a long time because I can’t stop giggling and trying to make him stop and kiss me.
We finally arrive at our seats and I slump down happily and snuggle into Jackson.
Being with Jackson is making me fizz with happiness inside. My cheeks feel nicely flushed and my banter with him is rather witty (if I say so myself). I can’t stop laughing at a man sitting further along the row in front. He’s