Making Christmas Special Again / Their One-Night Christmas Gift

CHAPTER THREE

TWO SECONDS.

Two measly seconds was all it took for Max to start working on an exit plan. Impossible, given his idiotic instinct to volunteer as Euan’s guardian, but how the hell was he meant to survive? Esme was a walking, talking Christmas minx. One who, without as much as a how do you do, had him dropping winks and staring at her boobs. Classy. He really suited the whole ‘landed gentry’ surroundings. Not.

If he didn’t watch himself he’d have her over his shoulder, out the door and high-tailing it around Heatherglen on a quest for mistletoe. He’d bet her lips tasted like peppermint. Or whatever it was Christmas was meant to taste of.

Sugar and spice and all sorts of things that were wickedly nice.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets. He shouldn’t be thinking about what anybody’s lips tasted of. He should be thinking about Euan and Fenella and their dogs and the time he’d no longer have to spend with them in A and E because of this excellent opportunity to turn their lives around. A much more practical line of thought.

A woman wearing a gilet with her name and the therapy centre’s logo stitched onto it pushed through the swinging doors that led to the kennels. Margaret. She was thirty-something. Dark-haired. Rosy-cheeked, from the cold most likely. Her eyes pinged from Esme to Max then back again. Margaret smirked. Esme glared.

If he was any good at reading women’s signals and, like his flirting skills, they were rusty, Max would’ve bet cold hard cash Esme had told her that he was a crusty old man. Esme had obviously lied. Not that he slathered himself in youth potion or hunky man juice or anything, but he was relatively confident he was a step up from the abominable snowman’s granddad.

Perhaps the exchange of meaningful looks between the women meant Esme was staking a claim on him.

He quickly pulled the plug on that idea. Esme was a beautiful woman and an heiress. She doubtless had queues of men ready to slip a ring on her finger.

Something instinctive told him the socialite scene wasn’t her gig. Anyone who announced she picked up poo wasn’t someone who fancied being a pretty bauble for some man to parade around on his arm. Maybe that was why her clinic was hidden away up here in the Highlands. Down in Glasgow or Edinburgh she could be at the doorstep of so many more people who would benefit from her therapy dogs. He had something teasing at his memory he couldn’t quite bring to mind. Something he’d skidded over on the internet when he had been researching her work here at Heatherglen. A romance gone bad, perhaps? Whatever. Not his business.

As if she’d been reading his mind and wanted the thoughts to stop, Esme cleared her throat.

‘Margaret,’ Esme said pointedly, ‘may I introduce you to the man behind Plants to Paws, Max Kirkpatrick?’

‘Hello, Max,’ Margaret said, a merry twinkle in her bright blue eyes. ‘It’s very nice to meet you. Esme simply hasn’t been able to stop talking—’

Before Margaret could elaborate, Esme cut in with a very polite, stagey voice, making great use of her enunciation skills. ‘Margaret, don’t you think it would be lovely if we got the dogs ready to meet the new residents? Max here was just on his way to get them.’

Margaret’s eyes pinged between the pair of them before she answered in the same stagey, highly enunciated voice, ‘Why, yes, Esme, I think it would be lovely.’

‘Great!’ Esme gave a decisive nod. Margaret didn’t move. Esme tilted her head towards the kennels.

Margaret threw an apologetic look in Max’s direction. ‘We normally wait for the residents to be in the room before we bring the dogs in.’

He took that as his cue to leave. Which was just as well, because it was all he could do to keep a straight face. Not that he was certain the women were having a non-verbal he’s mine fight over him, but…it certainly felt that way. It’d been a hell of a long time since anyone had played tug of war for his attentions. No offence to Margaret, but if he were remotely interested in having his heart shredded to smithereens again, he knew which way the pendulum would swing. Not that falling for Esme was an option.

He’d adored his ex. Had loved her to within an inch of his life. She’d been all for his plan to save up money to buy his mum a house. Had supported his extra tours of duty. The overtime. The delayed returns. He’d thought she was amazing. Right up until he’d discovered her largesse was easier to bear because she’d been having a full-on affair with her boss. Not that she’d offered him the ring back or anything, but the fewer reminders of what it was like to have his emotions in someone else’s power the better.

After he’d managed to brush most of the snow out of Fenella’s hair and Euan’s hood, they went back to the reception area, where Esme was wearing a very professional, very controlled smile.

They made a quick exchange of names, handshakes and the obligatory offering of gingerbread men. Both Euan and Fenella were so excited they could barely stand still.

‘Have you had a chance to settle into your rooms yet?’

Fenella and Euan exchanged quick looks before Fenella answered for the pair of them. ‘We’ve not seen the barracks yet, no.’

Esme’s eyes shot to Max’s.

Oops. He should’ve warned her he might’ve been teasing them on the ride up. There may also have been a mention of dungeons and castle keeps.

She twisted her lips into a little moue before that cheeky grin surfaced again. She’d rumbled him. ‘I think Dr Kirkpatrick may have been preparing you for a Christmas surprise.’ She nodded towards the castle. ‘Your rooms are in there.’

Euan threw Max an incredulous look. ‘You mean we’re staying in the castle?’

‘Looks like it.’ Max gave the back of his neck a swift rub. It was nice to be giving good news for once.

Euan put his hand up for a fist bump. ‘Result, Doc!’

Max met his fist bump and then, to make sure the kid still knew his place, pulled him into a loose headlock and gave his head a light knuckle-dusting. Euan seemed to like it. Poor guy. He didn’t have a dad to rough and tumble with. Someone to have his back when he needed it. Snap. At least Max had had the military. Brothers in arms and all that.

When he looked up, he caught Esme looking at him and Euan with that soft smile of hers. One that rammed an arrow straight into his heart. It wasn’t often a woman saw his soft side. Then again, it wasn’t often she stuck around long enough to find out he had one. After things had gone so apocalyptically wrong with his fiancée, he had decided he wasn’t built for relationships, so didn’t see the point in letting a woman know he had a heart thumping in his chest. Anyway, moving on…

Esme suggested Fenella and Euan pick a toy and a couple of bags of treats each from the display rack before they met their dogs.

Euan looked at her with disbelief. ‘You mean…we just take them?’ He threw an anxious look at Max.

‘I told him everything was gold plated here.’ Max said, as neutrally as he could. There was no chance in the universe these two could afford some of the high-end collars and doggie coats on display so he’d wanted them to know things were for looking at but not for coveting. A valuable lesson his stepdad had made a point of impressing on him right from the start. He wanted cool trainers? He’d have to earn them. No time for a job and military academy? Well, then, looked as though he’d have to do without.

Euan’s eyes were practically glittering with possibilities. Max’s hand went back to his wallet. He’d pay if necessary. Just the once. It was, after all, Christmas.

‘They may not look like it, but these are tools that will help you work with your dog. So, while you’re here, these are free,’ Esme explained, without the slightest air of a have giving to the have-nots.

Max’s respect for her went up another notch.

‘Don’t worry about stocking up on treats for ever. We’ll be sending along food and treat parcels once a month to keep you going for at least the first year as we’re well aware you weren’t prepared for this sort of expense. If it’s too much at the end of that, we’ll set up a support programme. For now, though, help yourselves. Think of this as an all-inclusive Christmas pressie.’

Fenella laughed. ‘Don’t say that to Doc Kirkpatrick. He hates Christmas.’ She put on a voice to mimic Max’s. ‘Nothing comes for free in this world.’

Euan guffawed and gave Max a light arm punch. ‘Yeah. I tried to get him to wear some reindeer antlers on the way up and he near enough decked me.’

‘Is that so?’ Esme’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Well…not literally but, yeah.’ Euan gave a very serious nod. ‘Doc Kirkpatrick and Christmas are not BFFs.’

‘Any particular reason?’ Esme kept her tone light, but she clearly wanted to know. He couldn’t blame her.

‘Nope.’ No one needed to know just how miserable a time of year Christmas was for him.

‘He’s always working double shifts at the Clyde.’ Euan explained.

There was a reason for that. Double shifts didn’t let the demons in. Euan was trying to give him an out. There was hope for the kid.

‘All work and no play,’ Fenella teased, ‘makes Doc Kirkpatrick a…’ She ran out of steam. ‘Well, you’re not exactly dull, are you?’

Max could practically see the wheels turning behind Esme’s sparkling blue eyes. As if she was already gearing up to change his Scrooge-like ways. Was there a challenge the woman didn’t like?

‘As none of this is relevant to service dogs, shall we get cracking?’

Esme narrowed her eyes as if she was staring straight at the chip on his shoulder. Oh, hell. She wasn’t actually going to try to wheedle some Christmas cheer out of him, was she? To his surprise, she gave him a nod that indicated she knew exactly what he was talking about. That she understood pain and loss and everything that came along with it but she, unlike him, was trying to muddle through to the light at the end of the tunnel.

It was the type of look that made him wonder if his approach—no light, no tunnel—was a bit too blunt. He was the first to look away.

‘Right, then.’ Esme clapped her hands together and pointed to the displays. ‘Why don’t you two get a lead each and some treats? The dogs already have specialist collars that we’d like you to use. They’ve tried and approved of pretty much all of the treats on the wall, so take your pick.’

Max noticed Esme sending him a curious look after another round of victory air punches from Euan. He moved in closer, lowered his voice, his eyes flicking to Euan as he spoke. ‘The kid’s had a rough ride. That’s why I didn’t tell him about staying at the castle. I like to keep expectations low. Makes anything good that happens a welcome change.’

‘Ha!’ Esme laughed. ‘That’s my policy when it comes to men!’

‘Good policy,’ Max said darkly. He didn’t like the thought of her with other men. He also didn’t like that he didn’t like it. He shouldn’t care and he did. Which was precisely why keeping Esme at arm’s length—further if possible—was the only way he’d get through this. Basic training had been easier.

Esme shot him a look so full of hurt he knew she’d taken it the wrong way. Before he could fix it, Margaret bounced through the double doors and cheerfully interjected, ‘You ready, boss?’

Esme gave herself a little shake as if it would flick the pain away. ‘Absolutely. It’s time for Fenella and Euan to meet their dogs in real life.’

As she turned to go there was only one thought in his mind: This was a woman he would never allow to walk away. Which was why letting her think he was a bastard was for the best.

Now that Esme had properly humiliated herself in front of Max, she was as grateful to be around the dogs as she was hoping Euan and Fenella would be. Normally this was her favourite part—introducing the dogs to their new companions. This time, though, she was still stinging from Max’s glowering response to her dating comment.

What had he been trying to say? That she’d always disappoint? That she’d never be enough? Hurt became anger. How dared he? He didn’t know her. Another Harding MacMillan. She scowled. At least he didn’t seem to want anything from her.

Against her better judgement, she glanced at him. He looked away.

Oh, yes. She’d read the comment right. He had no time for her except when it suited him. At least his affection for Fenella and Euan seemed genuine.

She snorted. Honest like a dog. She loved dogs, and dogs were trainable so—

No. Don’t even go there.

‘Any chance we’re going to get this show on the road?’

Humph! Impatient like a dog.

‘If you’ll follow me,’ Esme snipped. Margaret went to fetch the dogs as Esme showed Euan and Fenella into a large room that was a bit like a sports hall. Big, airy, more than enough room for a large group of dogs to be trained and, of course, for their new owners to learn how to handle them.

‘Now, a word of warning—mostly to Max rather than the two of you,’ Esme began. ‘No offence.’

He put his hands up. None taken. Of course. He was ex-military. He could take it. Then again, the look on his face when Euan had fist bumped him. It was as if he’d won the lottery. There was definitely a big old softie lurking under that tough-guy exterior of his. Probably just as well it didn’t extend to her.

She forced herself into work mode.

‘Right! In a wee while we’ll give Max a dog too, so he can experience the same training as you are. First things first, though…your dogs are precisely that. Your dogs. They need to bond with you and only you.’

She scanned the small group again, her confidence growing as her professionalism came back into play.

‘The most important thing to remember when you meet your dog is that you are their new best friend and you are going to establish a bond that, up until this point, they’ve only had with their trainer. Margaret and I are the main handlers, but we tend to raise a lot of the puppies down in the village so that they grow up in a home environment. They’ve been well socialised. What that means is you are going to have to make extra-sure that the praise they seek is yours. That the only treats they receive are from you. That the cuddles they want are from you. So this means, no matter how much you want to spread the love with Max…’

Her eyes flicked to his and she instantly wished they hadn’t. Spread the love? Was she mad? No. She needed to make her own point now that he’d made his.

‘You can’t. No treats. No cuddles. Nothing.’

There. Line drawn.

If Esme was trying to make a point, Max heard it. Loud and clear. Any chemistry he might’ve felt humming between the two of them had run its course. Fair enough. He’d been a jerk. She wasn’t one to beg. Good for her. Too bad he hadn’t had that same ability back when he’d kept hoping his stepdad would finally realise he was a good kid, or that he had been hallucinating when his fiancée had told him there was someone else. Someone worth loving. He felt a scowl form. Being here was reopening a whole ream of memories he’d hoped to never revisit.

He made himself tune back into what Esme was saying.

‘Are you ready for me to bring the dogs in?’

Euan and Fenella were so excited he thought their heads would pop off if they nodded any more vigorously. Even he had to admit it was pretty damn sweet. When Margaret brought the dogs in, it was all he could do to keep the tears at bay. And that was saying something.

Margaret dropped the lead to the biggest of the two dogs and said, ‘Go, Nora. Go to Fenella!’

Fenella dropped to her knees and immediately embraced the large, creamy-haired goldendoodle. ‘You’re absolutely gorgeous, aren’t you lovely? Look, Max! Isn’t she gorgeous? No, I mean don’t look. She’s all mine!’ Then she burst into giggles and dug into her pocket to give Nora a treat. Nora took it then licked Fenella’s face.

There it was. A forever bond made in a second.

Euan was equally over the moon. Max had thought the lad would’ve tried to put on more of a cavalier attitude. Pretend he kind of liked the dog. But when the big old bandy-legged golden Lab bounded over to him and offered a paw? Instant love.

Max gave his jaw a rub then shoved his hand through his hair, willing the scrubbing on his scalp to keep the bottleneck of feelings exactly where it should be. Suppressed. Churning away in his gut. Wherever. Anywhere but on display.

‘It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?’ Esme had appeared by his side without him noticing. Little magical Christmas nymph that she was. She probably had elf dust or something like that in the small treat pouches she had hanging off her belt. ‘I always cry.’

He looked down at her and, sure enough, she was wiping away a couple of tears. One glistening liquid diamond from each eye.

‘How do you do it?’

Her eyebrows furrowed together. ‘Match them up, you mean?’

He nodded.

‘That’s relatively easy. Well, you obviously have to have the dog trained up for the right job. Then I read the profiles that you send and…’ She gave an unreadable shrug. ‘I just get a feeling.’

Against his better judgement, he laughed. ‘Female intuition?’

Her eyes dropped to half-mast and moved from him to the dogs. ‘No. Past experience, a wealth of knowledge and a finely tuned instinct for my dogs and the types of people they’d suit.’

Well, that told him.

They silently watched Fenella and Euan play with their new dogs as Margaret showed them, in turn, how to get the dogs to sit, shake paws, high five. No doubt they’d get to the ‘serious stuff’ in a bit. For now, it was bonding time.

Damn. He hated to admit it but these two were experiencing exactly what he had hoped would happen when his mum had told him there was a new man in both of their lives. She’d organised a picnic in Glasgow’s Botanic Gardens. Proof, if he’d needed any, that this was no casual boyfriend and that he definitely wasn’t from their neighbourhood.

Max had brought along a football and a chest bursting with hope that this time he and his mum might’ve found ‘their guy’, as she’d liked to put it. She’d never brought men home. Said it wasn’t right as she wasn’t just seeing someone for herself. It was for both of them. She’d get Max the dad he deserved after she’d made such a poor choice the first time round.

A fresh wash of guilt poured through him. He should’ve told Esme he knew the developer. He’d tried to convince himself it didn’t matter because he would’ve fought whoever was trying to crush Plants to Paws. But there was a part of him that wanted to crush Gavin Henshall, too. No. Even that was wrong. Not crush, just…

‘Forgive him, Max.’

He looked across at Euan, whose dog was lolling on his lap, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, his eyes glued to Euan’s. He wanted that.

Bonding. He’d been desperate for it with Gavin.

And he was never going to get it.

Without his having noticed, Esme appeared beside him, her eyes solidly on Euan and Fenella.

‘I know,’ she said softly. ‘That’s why I do this. Pure love with absolutely nothing expected in return.’

He chanced a glance in her direction and when their eyes met? He saw it. The clear-eyed gaze of someone who understood exactly what it felt like not to be enough. And at that instant he fell a little bit in love with Esme Ross-Wylde, though every part of him knew there was no chance of a happy ending. Not for guys like him. Not with girls like her.

Esme shot him that impish grin of hers. ‘Right, then, pal. It’s your turn.’

‘My turn?’

‘Yup. We’ve got a dog for you to do some training with, so you don’t feel left out. He can stay in your room with you, just like the others’ will, or he can stay here in the kennels. On his own. Crying himself to sleep at night.’

‘Yeah, I don’t think so.’

Esme said nothing.

‘I live in a flat. I work all the time. I don’t have a life that’s got room for a dog.’

He decided not to remind himself that he’d made the life that didn’t have room for dogs, or other humans for that matter.

‘No one’s asking you to fall in love with him,’ Esme said neutrally. Her eyes told a different story. She was daring him not to.

‘Do what you must,’ Max said.

‘Nice attitude, mate.’

His stepfather’s voice rang loud and clear in his head. One of the many things he hadn’t been able to shake from his past. The low rumbling voice. The biting quips that never failed to make him feel lower than the mud on Gavin’s shoe. Time to earn your keep, mate. Pull up your socks, mate. Off to military school, mate. Maybe they’ll know what to do with you. As if he were a lost cause before Gavin had even tried to like him, let alone love him.

Euan’s laugh pulled him back into the room. He followed his eyeline, then heard Fenella get the giggles as they all watched Margaret jog in with the scruffiest puppy he’d ever seen. The little puppy was wearing miniature red velvet reindeer antlers and a jumper covered in snowflakes. He could’ve scooped the little mess of fur and quirky ears up in one hand and barely felt the difference. If he was into scooping up puppies and going all doe-eyed, that was.

Esme’s grin split into that superstar smile of hers. ‘Max? I’d like you to meet Dougal. Your very own fur buddy for the next fortnight.’

‘Ha-ha, very funny. Pair the big lunk with the tiny mongrel.’

Esme feigned dismay. She picked the puppy up and nuzzled him, holding his face to hers, both of their eyes all wide and innocent. ‘How on earth could you say no to this poor orphaned pup? All alone at Christmas with no one to love him?’

Hell. He knew what that felt like too. Esme was really punching each and every one of his buttons today and he wasn’t even on the patient roster. He felt Euan’s eyes on him and made the mistake of letting some of the hope in the lad’s eyes transfer to his own heart.

‘Hand him over.’ He held the puppy up so they were eye to eye. ‘It’s you and me, pal. What do you think of that?’ Dougal licked him on the nose and barked.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘ALL RIGHT IF I hang out with Euan and Fenella until we set off?’

‘Go for it,’ Esme chirped a bit too enthusiastically, trying to resist the urge to touch Max’s arm, his hand, his anything really because each time they so much as brushed a pinkie finger…fireworks. For her anyway. Twenty-four hours in and, despite her best efforts, that same heated attraction that had lit her up from the inside out the first time she’d laid eyes on him refused to be tamped down. If anything…it was worse.

She watched from a distance as Fenella and Euan showed Max the tricks they’d just learned in the clinic. They ‘shot’ their dogs to get them to play dead. He laughed appreciatively. Then they ‘shot’ him, after which he picked Euan up and tried to carry him away, only to have Euan’s dog cut in and ‘save’ him as they’d done in one of the practice sessions. If she hadn’t known better, she would’ve thought he was a father trying to do his very best by his son. Did he want children of his own? Marriage? Though he came across as gruff and spiky with her, Fenella and Euan clearly adored him. They must think he was heaven sent. They probably thought a lot of things. None of which probably included being scooped up in his arms, flung onto a four-poster bed and having their wicked way with him.