The Christmas Cafe at Seashell Cove_The Perfect Laugh Out Loud Christmas Romance by Karen Clarke

Author:Karen Clarke [Clarke, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781786815873
Amazon: B07FMDGMLY
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2018-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

It was a measure of how much wine was in Bridget’s bloodstream that she didn’t completely freak out when I told her I’d promised to look after Jack, as Seth’s mother was going home.

‘You put Seth Donovan’s son before your own niece?’ She sounded more hurt than annoyed, which was rich considering she hadn’t asked me to babysit. If I’d thought about it, I’d have expected her to hunt down a childcare expert, not trust her useless sister to look after her daughter.

‘He was going to cancel,’ I said, handing her the blazer to try on with the dress. ‘I didn’t want you to miss your date, so I offered my services.’

‘Well… that was nice of you, I suppose.’ She spoilt it by adding, ‘But you don’t know anything about children.’

I managed not to roll my eyes, or say why do you want me to babysit Romy then? ‘I’ve got to know Jack a little bit. I’ll be fine.’

‘Fancy you looking after Seth Donovan’s son.’ Her eyes saucered wide, as if the absurdity had just hit her. ‘Seth Donovan!’

‘He’s just a man,’ I said drily. ‘He bleeds like the rest of us.’

‘Oh god, what am I going to do?’ Clutching the blazer, she glanced at Romy who was beginning to stir, making soft whispery sounds as if in the grip of a dream. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting him at the restaurant at eight. Should I take her with me?’

‘Why don’t I take her?’ I said impulsively. ‘I can look after them both at the cottage.’

Bridget’s expression hovered between hope and indecision. ‘Oh, Tilly, I don’t know.’

‘Seth trusts me with Jack, so…’ I let the words hang for a moment.

‘But will Seth mind? It seems a bit much for him to meet my daughter before he’s even met me.’

‘I’ll text him.’

She chewed her bottom lip – a gesture I remembered from watching her do her maths homework at the kitchen table, before she got fed up of her kid sister asking her what she was ‘drawing’ and flounced up to her bedroom.

‘But Romy’s so much younger, and it’ll be confusing for her.’

‘It’ll be a lovely, mind-broadening adventure,’ I said, in a no-nonsense tone Mary Poppins would have approved of. ‘And she’ll get to meet a really nice boy who has lots of toys that she can play with.’ I had no idea whether Jack had toys that would be suitable for a two-year-old, but Romy’s face lit up.

‘TOYS!’ she shrieked, immediately awake. She leapt up and bounced on the bed, hair drifting with static, and Bridget peered at the alarm clock beside the bed and bolted out of the room, muttering about needing a stylist to sort her out.

By the time I’d texted Seth and whipped around the house, gathering things that Romy might need – according to Bridget’s shouted instructions – and Bridget had transformed into a semblance of her former self, with glossy waves, smoky eyes and red lips, it was time to leave.

‘Will I do?’ She

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