The 14 Days of Christmas

“If any hat is going to produce German Christmas market stalls, it will be that one.” He raised his eyebrows in restrained horror and I couldn’t help but smile at him. There was just something so adorable about someone so grumpy.

“Thank you for giving me ho-ho-hope.” I grinned at him. “Keep your fingers crossed. But before I learn magic, I’m going around, hammering in any protruding nails with this.” I held up my hammer. “And checking everything is screwed and secured properly. Then, I’m attaching lights to each stall. Again with the hammer. And hooks.”

“Sounds like a lot of work. Need an assistant?” He didn’t sound enthusiastic. But I appreciated that he was up at just past seven thirty, offering to help. It didn’t hurt that help came in a Sebastian-shaped package. He hadn’t gotten any less handsome overnight.

“Absolutely. The lights are in those crates over there.”

We set to work on the first stall that had been assembled by the deliverymen. Sebastian patiently shifted loops of lights from left to right as I made sure everything was lined up. We moved onto the second stall, working faster this time, when he realized what to do. It helped that he was so tall—he didn’t even need a ladder to reach the apex of the roof.

“You think anyone’s going to notice if the lights aren’t exactly centrally placed on each stall?” he asked after he’d moved the set of lights on the fourth stall back and forth one too many times.

“I just want it to be perfect.”

“There’s no such thing,” he said. “Perfect would be me sitting on a beach in Barbados reading the Economist and sipping margaritas.”

I stopped and glanced at him. He couldn’t be serious about celebrating Christmas in the sun, could he? “Nice thought, but not over Christmas.”

He chuckled. “Especially over Christmas. But instead, I’m here. Moving strings of lights left and right ten centimeters.”

Maybe I’d been a bit controlling about the lights. But it looked nice if all the huts had the lights in the same place. Lights made everything magical. They disguised flaws, made sure special festive treats weren’t missed, and made people happy. They had to be right.

“You were going to Barbados? For Christmas. Are you serious?” I couldn’t imagine Christmas when you didn’t have to wear nineteen layers to keep your bodily organs alive, let alone Christmas in bona fide heat. “Do they celebrate over there?”

“Barely,” he replied. “And I have a private beach. I see no one but the staff, I don’t leave my villa, and I’m clear I don’t want to hear or see anything about Christmas.”

I took a step back like something he had might be catching. “You . . . cancel Christmas?”

“Right, the light is staying there. It’s absolutely fine,” he said, releasing the string of lights he’d been holding onto the hook we’d attached. “What’s next?”

I was frozen to the spot, watching Sebastian, trying to catch a clue as to why he would deliberately avoid such a wonderful time of year. His expression was cold and unflinching, like someone being offered the cutest, tiniest puppy to snuggle with, but staying ten feet away because he’d been bitten on his arse the last time he tried to pat a dog. “I want to know why you hate Christmas so much. And I want to know why on earth you’re at the center of all things Christmas in the entire British Isles, if you find the holiday so offensive.”

Sebastian sighed. “Your hair is caught.”

I turned and sure enough, my plait had been caught in the wires of the set of lights I had in my hands. I started to tug the top of my hair, trying to free it, when Sebastian stepped forward and stopped me. His body provided a shield from the slight breeze in the air, and I felt instantly warmer with him close.

“Hold the lights. I’ll unpick you. Although I would have thought having Christmas lights attached to you on a permanent basis would be manna from heaven for you.”

“So you’re a business mogul and a comedian?” I deadpanned. “Who knew?”

He chuckled as his fingers pulled and worked my hair. He was firm but gentle, and he moved with authority like he could be relied on to free anything that was caught. Fix anything that was broken. “With a sideline in putting up fairy lights.”

I faked a swoony sigh, though it wasn’t much of a stretch. It was hard not to swoon with Sebastian so close. “You’re a real Renaissance man, Sebastian.”

“Don’t forget that I also free plaits from electrical equipment.” He took the armful of lights from me and stepped back, creating distance between us and opening me up to the cold breeze. I shivered. “There, you’re free. How long is your hair, anyway?”

“Thanks. It comes to somewhere around my hips when it’s down. It’s in my family. Swedish blood.”