I really enjoyed yesterday’s excerpt from Always Christmas in Lincoln so I thought I’d find another sexy snippet to share today.
Felicity hates Christmas. It reminds her of a traumatic event from her childhood. She thinks the Permanent Christmas shop is tacky, with its windows full of trees and tinsel all year round and would rather it disappeared from her picturesque home town.
When she discovers that Carl, who she lusts over every time she sees him in the tea rooms, is in fact the owner of Ho, Ho, Ho! She’s not quite sure what to think. It takes a sexy meeting in the middle of a fake winter wonderland to make her realise the advantages of Christmas in the middle of summer.
As time passes, Carl and Felicity indulge in more sexy liaisons but as Christmas approaches Felicity doubts whether she is anything more than a sensual distraction for the festive shop owner and when her handsome ex, Sean, sweeps into town on a quest to win her back she finds she has a tough decision to make.
Can Carl and his Christmas cheer win over her hardened heart?
I’ve never been good with relationships, and as December dawned I still wasn’t in one. Carl and I would meet up occasionally, enjoy a conversation and occasionally a good shag, and that was it.
Yes, we’d fucked in my stock room, on several of his displays—I do believe my buttocks had crushed several cute reindeer, a couple of penguins and countless angels and elves. We’d even had an interesting interlude in the toilet at Shelly’s one late Saturday afternoon. Sex and small talk were no problem, apparently, but anything more seemed challenging.
December was busy—it always is, and especially so when the Christmas Markets are in full flow. I hadn’t stopped for weeks. Each day my shop was full and each night I had new stock to price, put out and order. As the month continued, something actually dawned on me. I was quite enjoying the whole madness of the season.
I found myself not only playing but singing along to Christmas songs on my work radio and I’d even wondered about what to do for Christmas day. Mum and Dad had bogged off to the Bahamas and I didn’t feel I could ask anyone else to host me—it’s a family time of year, after all. Normally I have no problem deciding what to do. I sit in my PJs all day watching films, eating snacks and avoiding the whole song and dance of it. It used to remind me of my sister—my little sister, who died when I was nine. She died early in December, and we just didn’t celebrate Christmas that year. Poppy was five when she passed away. She was knocked down by a drunk driver and mum had never forgiven herself for it. Mum had been hit, too, but she had survived without much of a scratch—but poor Poppy never stood a chance.
So when I thought of Christmas, I thought of her and how a couple of times we’d rushed to wake Mum and Dad up together before it really was morning. I remembered her laughter, her smile and how her sweet life was cut so tragically short. However, something had changed inside me. Remembering Poppy was still painful, but now I found those early childhood memories of ripping into wrapping paper and giggling and gasping about our presents heart-warming, not heart-breaking.
I played dumb, but of course I know what had changed my attitude—or should I say who had changed my attitude. I suppose hanging out so much with Christmas trees, tinsel and Santas changes your point of view of Christmas, especially when you’re in the middle of it all having rampant, clothes-ripping sex with the hottest man you’ve ever clapped eyes on.
But I was still confused. I mean, I’m not what you’d call traditional. I’m pretty kooky, all told, but I really did think that fucking would, generally anyway, lead to a relationship. Somehow, though, I’d ended up with a friends-with-benefits situation, when all I really wanted was to be his girlfriend.
Yep, I said it. That’s what I wanted, and that’s what I chatted with my best girly mate on the phone about just a few days before Christmas.
“Invite him over for Christmas dinner, then,” Tracy said. “I mean, once you cook for a bloke, that’s it—he’s yours.”
“But what if he says no?”
“Well, then you know where you’re up to with him. You stay fuck buddies or you call it off.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” I sighed and pulled the fleece blanket tighter around my shoulders. England was in the grip of another record-breaking winter of cold and snow.
“Well, I’m sorry, Fliss, but you can’t keep going on like this indefinitely.”
“Why not? I kind of like it.”
“Fliss—oh, Fliss. I despair of you sometimes. Hey, did I tell you who I bumped into at Tesco’s last night?”
“No, you didn’t.” I was all ready to mentally switch off whilst she gabbled on, when I heard a name that made me sit up and pay attention.
“Really?” I tried to keep my voice level. My old one night stand didn’t deserve my attention.
“Yeah, and he asked me all about you.” “No!” I sat up and listened intently.
“Yeah, he wanted to know how you were, where you lived, if you were single—I told him yes, of course.”
“What, you did what?” I gasped. “But what about Carl?” “A few shags don’t count. He’s not your boyfriend.” “Well then, what did Sean say?”
“He said he regretted how he’d treated you. How he’d like to meet up with you again sometime.”
I couldn’t believe it. The guy I used to think of as perfection wanted me back, or so it sounded.
“Fliss, are you all right? Fliss, you’ve gone awfully quiet on me.”
“Sorry, Tracy.” I focused back on the receiver in my hand. “I was just a bit taken aback, really.”
“Now, that’s a man worth chasing,” Tracy told me. “If I weren’t all but married to Dave…”
“Hey, keep your mitts off my man,” I snapped playfully. “Your man? You can’t have them all, you know.”
And that was the truth of it. Who did I really want? I didn’t know. I was confused, and didn’t help myself by later logging on to Facebook and looking up Sean the ex and adding him to my friends list. Within moments, I had a message from him. The first word in it was ‘sorry’. I replied—I thought it only fair to let him know I’d forgiven him. The next thing I knew, it was three in the morning and we’d been chatting for hours. So, from being confused about one man, I became completely befuddled by two of them. Way to go, Fliss, you complete idiot. Luckily, the next day was Saturday—treat day and usually my chance to chat to Carl. I thought it would be a good opportunity to sort out what our relationship was.
I hope you enjoyed that, for more pick up Always Christmas in Lincoln.