Page 34 of Christmas at the Home Farm Vets (Hartfell Village #2)

The taxi journey took twenty minutes, and the car was soon sweeping up a long driveway, pulling up outside an historic house built of ancient golden stone.

Erin was aware of Oli’s tension in the set of his face when they followed Imogen and Alex out of the vehicle, hanging back so the newly engaged couple could enter first, some guests and a photographer waiting to greet them.

Oli caught her eye in the light of a large pair of illuminated Christmas trees outside the entrance. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he told her softly. ‘I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anyone else.’

‘You numpty,’ she told him sternly, emphasising her Yorkshire accent on purpose.

He laughed, as she’d meant him to. He hadn’t even touched her and still those few words felt like a caress.

She shivered, her only smart winter coat and the silk dress unequal to the chill winter night, and it felt perfectly natural when he took her hand.

Once inside the hotel another Christmas tree was cheerful, shimmering in shades of gold and silver in a low-beamed reception area.

Erin slipped off her coat, aware of Oli watching, as she left it in the cloakroom.

They accepted glasses of honey-coloured champagne and followed more guests into a marquee at the rear of the building.

The air was scented with spices, huge church candles on the tables surrounded by evergreen wreaths.

She was clinging to his hand as though they really were a couple, and she wasn’t just an old friend here to support him.

Imogen and Alex had already been swallowed up by guests eager to congratulate them and admire the exquisite diamond ring glittering on her hand.

Hundreds of white fairy lights shone from the ceiling, reflected in the scarlet baubles at every place setting.

Staff were mingling, offering canapés and more champagne.

Erin hadn’t quite finished the first glass yet and she drank it quickly, the fizz hitting her bloodstream as she and Oli accepted another.

A string quartet on a low stage was playing classical Christmas carols, a wooden floor ready for the DJ and dancing to follow.

But first there was the formal dinner, and they saw from the seating plan they were sharing a table with some of Imogen and Alex’s friends.

Erin’s gaze was darting over the guests, and it came to rest on an older man sitting at a table; she knew he must be Oli’s dad.

It wasn’t just the similarities in height or the breadth of shoulder – there was something watchful in his gaze that reminded her of Oli.

Oli’s fingers tightened around hers and she squeezed back, letting him know she would be alongside him if he wanted her there.

‘It’s much easier to see your eyes when you’re wearing heels,’ he murmured. ‘They look more golden in this light.’

‘Don’t get used to it, these shoes are strictly a one-off,’ she warned, smiling up at him. ‘I’ll be back in my boots on Monday.’

‘Shame. I like you in heels.’ He didn’t attempt to disguise the desire in his eyes and her skin was heating yet more with every look he gave her.

‘That’s not a very professional thing to say to a colleague,’ she remonstrated. Clinging on to the pretence was getting more impossible by the moment.

‘If that’s what you want me to think of you, then maybe you should have worn a different dress.

’ Oli’s murmured words skimmed her ear as his eyes swept down her again.

Erin blushed furiously, something she’d never quite grown out of.

She was so used to her winter work layers, and she felt virtually naked in the navy silk, which was caressing her body every bit as much as his gaze was.

But then movement caught his eye, and Oli forced his attention to the man watching from his table across the room. He sighed. ‘Shall we get it over with?’

‘Are you sure you want me to come with you? I can wait at our table or the bar if you’d rather do this on your own.’

‘I want you to be there,’ he said simply. ‘If that’s okay?’

‘Totally.’

Oli’s hand was on her back as they approached the table opposite theirs. The man stood up and the blonde woman in an elegant black dress beside him remained seated. Although he glanced at Erin with a brief smile, his attention was all on Oli.

‘Oli, it’s so good to see you.’ He cleared his throat and offered a hand across the table.

His grey hair was cropped short, and his dark blue eyes were quite different to Oli’s more cerulean shade, colouring Erin guessed Oli had inherited from his mum.

Erin felt a glimmer of sorrow at the thought of him and Imogen celebrating the first family engagement and planning a wedding without her.

‘Dad. Christina.’ Oli shook his father’s hand and smiled at the woman next to him, who smiled back, tension evident in the gesture. ‘How are you both?’

‘We’re well, thank you. How about you, I heard you had a blast in Costa Rica.’

‘Yeah, I’m great, thanks.’ Oli’s smile skimmed over Erin, and she squeezed his hand. ‘It was brilliant, the animal sanctuary does amazing work, and I got to treat some of the two-toed sloths, which was pretty incredible.’

‘That sounds perfect, you always were fascinated with exotics.’ His father turned that sharp gaze on Erin, softening it with a smile, and she offered her own in return, hoping this encounter would go smoothly for both men. ‘Would you please introduce me to your friend?’

‘Dad, this is Erin Hardy, who is an old friend and a brilliant colleague. We met at Catz.’ Her breath caught as Oli’s hand went to her back again, his fingers grazing the straps holding her dress together. ‘Erin, my father, Michael Sterling, and his wife Christina.’

‘Mike, please. That all sounds so formal.’ He shook Erin’s hand with both of his and she saw him attempting to make sense of her presence at his son’s side. How much did he know of her and Oli’s history, their fractured past and uncertain future? ‘How do you do?’

‘Very well, thank you. It’s lovely to meet you both.

Hello, Christina.’ Erin’s Yorkshire accent was always more evident when she was nervous and she tried not to measure it against Mike’s more modulated tone as she shook hands with Christina as well, who’d stood to greet her.

‘What a gorgeous party, you must be delighted for Imogen and Alex.’

‘We are, yes.’ Mike looked to his daughter and her fiancé across the room, still greeting guests. ‘It’s wonderful to be planning a wedding in the family, but of course it’s not the same for Imogen without…’ He hesitated and glanced at Oli. ‘Without her mum to help her.’

Erin was conscious of Oli’s tension at her side, the press of his body against hers. The conversation felt so stiff and unnatural, a million miles away from her own family all chattering at the same time.

‘Erin, shall we find our seats?’ Oli smiled at her. ‘It looks as though they’re getting ready to serve the meal.’

‘Oli?’ Mike came around the table and his hand settled on his son’s arm. ‘I know we can’t talk here, but I was hoping we might catch up before you head back north. Christina and I are staying in the hotel, and we wondered if you’d like to join us for brunch tomorrow. Both of you, of course.’

Oli shrugged as he looked at Erin, as though he didn’t mind either way, and she nodded.

They’d come a long way to celebrate with Imogen and Alex, and she very much hoped there might be more for him and Mike this weekend.

That they wouldn’t go their separate ways after one formal handshake and so very few words.

‘We don’t have to rush home,’ she told him quietly. ‘I think that sounds nice.’

‘Great,’ Mike said quickly, pressing home his advantage. ‘Shall we say ten thirty then, so we’re not keeping you too long if you need to be on your way.’

He seemed relieved as he backed away and Christina smiled as he rejoined her.

Erin guessed she must be a good ten years younger than Mike, and wondered if this was the woman for whom he’d left his marriage.

If so, no wonder Oli felt awkward around them, even if it had been years ago.

Sometimes those things never quite went away.

‘Right, well, we’ll see you then.’ Oli nodded at them both and Erin slipped her arm through his as they left the table.

‘Are you okay?’ Even in heels she had to reach up to place the words in his ear above the music and laughing chatter. ‘And I don’t have to join you tomorrow if that’s simpler.’

‘I’m fine, thank you for asking, and Imogen’s right. It is time he and I talked. I can’t avoid him forever, especially with a wedding coming up. And please do come with me, if you’re sure you can stand it? I’d really like you to be there to hold my hand.’

‘Then I will be,’ she told him softly, and he smiled when she squeezed his fingers.

‘But what would Jason think?’ Oli’s brows drew together as he halted. ‘Doesn’t he mind, that you’re here with me?’

‘It doesn’t matter if he minds or not, because Jason and I are no longer dating. I can’t even say we broke up because we didn’t have anything to break.’

‘I’d tell you I’m sorry if I really meant it, but the only thing I’m concerned about is whether you’re okay?’

‘Do I not look okay?’ She realised immediately it was the wrong question as it gave him another excuse to run his eyes over her, and that scorching gaze ignited every nerve ending yet more.

‘You look so much more than okay,’ he murmured, bending to speak against her ear, brushing her skin with his breath, teasing and tantalising. ‘You look incredible and entirely too distracting.’

‘Oli!’ That single word of remonstration did nothing for her composure after such a stare, and she tried to drag her mind back to the reason she was here. ‘So tomorrow at brunch, I’ll be there as your friend. Just to be clear.’

‘Friends,’ Oli echoed, giving her a wicked smile. ‘That’s a step up from colleagues and I’ll take it. For now.’