Christmas with Her Ex. Fiona McArthur
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a decade ago.
Back on the bench Winsome Black raised her brows quizzically. ‘She’s very striking.’
‘Hmm.’ Connor didn’t want to think about Kelsie Summers and he certainly didn’t want to talk about her. He tried not to glance up the platform but his gaze strayed disobediently before he whipped it back. She still had the whippet thinness he remembered but had gained subtle womanly curves that beckoned anyone with a spoonful of testosterone without her even trying. Typical.
He snapped his teeth together. ‘If you give me your ticket I’ll check your baggage in. I imagine it will take a while before all these people are checked in and the luggage loaded.’
His grandmother had declined to allow him to care for the tickets. He wasn’t used to it. the whole ‘not being in command’ thing. And he knew she regularly lost things so he’d be glad when he’d secured the damn things and they were on the train.
His mind drifted unexpectedly. Kelsie used to lose things all the time too.
He snapped back to the present and the frown he sent his grandmother must have been more ferocious than he thought because she burst out laughing.
‘And will you cut off my head if I don’t?’
‘What?’
‘Give you the tickets. You have serious control issues.’ She shot him a penetrating glance. ‘Thinking of other things, were you?’
Lord, he’d forgotten how easily she read him. ‘No.’ He took the tickets she offered. ‘And thank you,’ he added, his voice dry. This journey could prove very tiresome if Winsome decided to tease him for most of it.
He moved into line behind a young woman buried in what looked like a 1940s ankle-length trench coat two sizes too large for her, and the fur of the collar was pulled up around her ears. When she darted a look at him all he could see was the bridge of her nose under her dark glasses and the thick black hair scraped back off her high forehead.
‘Buon giorno,’ he said.
‘Buon giorno,’ she whispered back, and turned away.
Maybe she was a very young secret agent? This trip had the makings of a farce already, he thought sardonically, and glanced ahead to another older lady around his grandmother’s age, though not as well looking come to think of it, accompanied by a younger woman.
He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. That could be an answer. Distract Gran with a kindred spirit. Maybe arrange to have them sit together at dinner. He glanced at the girl. She had a nice smile so even if Gran tried to pair him off with someone else, it wouldn’t be too bad. Anywhere away from Kelsie Summers.
Truth be told, he didn’t understand why he was dwelling on such a chance encounter with a woman he’d once fancied in his youth. Well, maybe a little more than that but it wasn’t like he’d carried her with him for all these years—or been celibate. Far from it.
Neither had he found anyone else he could think of joining his life with, a sardonic voice inside suggested, and he impatiently brushed that thought away. A full-time relationship was the last thing he required. He seriously didn’t have time.
The line moved forward and he wondered idly where the luggage for the woman in front was.
Which made him shoot a glance back at where Kelsie’s Suitcase-asaurus Rex was, and decided it was the biggest damn thing he’d ever seen and even she’d have trouble losing that. He wondered if she knew she couldn’t have it in the cabin with her and then shrugged.
And why was that his problem? What was wrong with his brain today? Thankfully the line moved forward and he directed his thoughts to move on too.
His eyes drifted back when the line stopped again. Her suitcase was still there. Might have been a stretch to think that someone would steal it anyway but…
She was back. Sitting next to his grandmother, and they looked like they were having a lovely conversation. He groaned and tried not to crush the tickets in his clenched hand. Kelsie had always been a great listener. He turned back to the line.
Insidiously, while he stared at the back of the head of the woman in front, his mind drifted to all those plans they’d had when he’d been young and stupid. Plans he’d built in his head during those impressionable teenage years that you never seemed to forget. No matter how hard you tried. The only one he had ever shared them with had been Kelsie because she’d been so much a part of his life then.
The first plan had always been—marry Kelsie. Keep her safe.
Then—become a doctor.
The third—take her to Venice on the Orient Express when they could afford it, because it was the one thing she really did have a fantasy about.
God, he’d been so stupid. he shook his head and returned to the present as the line moved forward again. But there had been other plans and he guessed he’d at least achieved them.
He was a research-based obstetrician. Dealing with infertility. Well respected. His gran would say world renowned but he would have said he was more recognised for being happy to share what he’d learnt. He’d been very busy during the last fifteen years so it was no wonder he hadn’t married.
Gran had informed him she despaired he’d find a wife before she died. No doubt she was pretty keen to see it happen but as far as he was concerned there were a lot of research projects he’d be happy to leave the family fortune to.
In fact, he had a horrible feeling this whole trip had some romantic connotation he was missing and it wasn’t really about diverting Gran’s mind from her recent loss. Something along the lines of if he wouldn’t marry for good sense then he’d better marry for love.
Couldn’t see it happening on a damn train but she’d muttered about some bloke she’d fallen for in her distant past whom she’d met on this train, and he just hoped the old man hadn’t turned in his grave when she’d dropped that little bombshell.
His grandfather had been the father he’d lost the same year he’d lost Kelsie and he’d always thought his grandparents perfectly matched at least. Funny how things in life weren’t always as you expected.
Like meeting Kelsie again after all these years.
KELSIE GLANCED AT her watch. Ten thirty-five and the train left at ten fifty-seven. She should find her carriage but seriously she wasn’t ready to sit down just yet.
Winsome and her grandson had boarded, and Kelsie carried her tiny overnight satchel—thank goodness for outrageously expensive wrinkle-free clothes—and she tried to slow her agitated feet to an inconspicuous amble.
She’d been almost the last to get her ticket, mainly because she’d wanted to stay well clear of Connor, and had walked up and down the platform ostensibly admiring the ornate carriages but really walking off her agitation at seeing him again.
Connor Black. She’d loved him like a brother since fifth grade when he’d moved from being annoying to mysteriously compelling. Not that all boys had been mysterious—just Connor.
For an only child, having Connor as her friend had seemed an impossible dream, until he’d come across her being bullied by a mean-streaked older boy who’d found the purse she’d lost one afternoon, late in the spring. She could almost smell the scent of falling orange blossoms, and blood, in the orchard where it had happened.
The ensuing bout of fisticuffs had left Connor with bruised knuckles and the other boy with a black eye and split lip, for which Connor had received a caning from the school principal the next day. The thought still made her cringe because it had been her fault.
But Connor had shrugged it off as no account and her hero-worship had been sealed.
She glanced into a window of the train