Festive Hearts And Kisses (Hope Valley Christmas 2)

3. Reed

REED

“I’m going out to pick up lunch, you coming?”

Paul’s voice startles me enough that it makes him laugh.

“Lunch?” I glance at the clock in the corner of my screen. Fuck me, where’s the morning gone?

“Yes, because I’m starving and I know you didn’t bring anything in with you.”

I haven’t.

I used to be good at making mine and Karl’s lunch—nope. Not doing that today. “Yeah, sure. I could eat.”

Paul’s eyes soften, his gaze sweeping over me in a way I’ve noticed a few of my friends and colleagues doing lately.

Assessing.

That’s what it feels like.

I’ve lost a bit of weight over the last couple of months. Not loads or anything, but enough to be noticeable.

Thankfully Paul doesn’t mention it, just stands and grabs his wallet. “Come on then. We’ve got that meeting at two and I need to finish off a couple of things first.”

I follow him out, smiling at a couple of people on the way. Pre-COVID, our whole team would’ve been in the office and I’d have eaten my homemade lunch at my desk, chatting with whoever was around, probably followed by a walk.

Now though, our job involves two or three days working from home. The whole team only meeting on a Friday. I’ve got used to it over the last couple of years, but it’s not the same. The atmosphere’s... muted.

Thank god me and Paul come into the office on the same days, although that’s been a little awkward lately given he’s also friends with Karl. But that could just be me, because Paul’s gone out of his way to be there for me.

Maybe that’s why Jerry’s offer to talk the other night was so appealing.

Someone who isn’t caught in the middle and isn’t one of my ex-boyfriends either. As much as I love Sean as a friend, I don’t want to talk to him about Karl. Not more than I already have, anyway.

But Jerry’s practically a stranger.

Although he didn’t feel like one when we were together on New Year’s. Now, though, that night seems like it happened to someone else. Which is why I haven’t taken him up on his offer. Not yet anyway.

“Pub or café?” Paul asks the second we hit fresh air.

I glance up. The sky is a dull, miserable-looking grey, and it’s fucking freezing for March.

I shiver. “Café’s nearest.”

He laughs, but I notice his hands are fully shoved into his coat pockets, clearly as cold as I am.

I follow him down the street and into the café that we’ve been coming to for the last couple of years. Unfortunately, we’re not the only ones from my office in here, and I come to an abrupt halt just inside the doorway.

“Fuck,” Paul mutters, seeing them a split second after I do. “Sorry, Reed. We can go somewhere else,” he adds quietly.

“It’s fine.” It’s not. The last thing I want to do is sit down and eat while watching Karl and Harrison gazing into each other’s eyes. But I need to get used to this. It’s not the first time I’ve seen them together and it won’t be the last. “Come on.”

The gods must be smiling on me a little because we manage to get a table as far away from Karl as physically possible. I take the seat facing the window while Paul goes to the counter to order our food.

I try to focus on the street outside. People watching usually fascinates me, but unfortunately the light hits the glass just so, and I can make out Karl and Harrison in the reflection. And that catches my attention more than what’s going on outside.

I watch them shrug into their coats and stand, and it dawns on me that they’ll have to pass my table to get to the exit.

Arse.

Maybe they won’t see me.

Oh, who the fuck am I kidding? They can’t not see me.

Maybe they won’t talk to me.

But Karl has never been one to avoid the hard things.

I look away from the glass as they approach but sense the moment they stop by my table.

“Reed?”

I flinch at the sound of his voice. The way he says my name used to make me smile and for a split second my lips twitch, but then I remember that he’s not mine.

It doesn’t hurt as much anymore, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t affect me at all.

I can’t ignore him, though. With a sigh, I turn in my seat to face them. Harrison hangs back, giving us a small semblance of privacy.

I want to hate him. I want to hate Karl too, but in the end it was no one’s fault. You can’t help how you feel.

“Hey.” I can’t force a smile, so I don’t bother trying.

Karl shoves his hands in his pockets. “How’ve you been?”

I raise an eyebrow, because how the fuck does he think I’ve been?

“Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say.”

“Yeah. It was.” The words fall out before I can sensor myself, and he looks so shocked at my reply I want to laugh. I’m not usually so blunt, and I’m not sure why today feels different, but I’m sick of pretending that I’m okay when I’m not.

Karl told me the truth, even though it was fucking painful to hear it. So I’m going to do the same.

I think we need it if we’re ever going to get past this and maybe one day get back to being the friends that we used to be.

If that’s even possible.

I take a deep breath. “It’s hard,” I murmur, but he tenses, so I know he can hear me. “Seeing you together...” I shrug, because what else is there to say?

“I know. I’m sorry.”

And the thing is. I know he’s sorry. But that doesn’t make it any easier to see him so happy with someone else.

Much happier than he ever was with me, if I’m honest. Which is a bitter pill to swallow, but as much as I’d like to, I can’t deny it.

“Take care, Reed.” He gives me a quick nod and then they’re gone.

Fuck.

I rub a hand over my face, taking one deep breath after another until I don’t feel as fragile. It gets a little easier each time I see him, but fuck me, I can’t wait until it doesn’t bother me at all.

It’s been eight months now, surely that’s long enough.

“Hey, you all right?” Paul asks softly, as he sets two coffees on the table. “I saw Karl come over before they left.”

I sigh and reach for my mug, more for something to do with my hands, because I’ve learnt the hard way not to drink it straight away. “Yeah. It’s just a bit shit seeing them everywhere.” I manage a smile. “And having all the same friends so I can’t even bitch about him.”

Paul meets my gaze, expression suddenly serious. “You can bitch to me about it all you want, and I promise it’ll go no further. I’m your friend too, Reed, and I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about this.”

I scrunch my nose, because even though I trust that he’d keep my confidence, I don’t feel comfortable putting him in that position. Not now anyway. Not so many months later, when I’m sure all our joint friends have moved on from the subject. “Thanks. But I don’t want to make it awkward for you.”

He frowns and reaches out to grab my wrist. “Fuck’s sake, you won’t make it awkward. Yes, Karl and I are still mates, and yes, I still see him, but I’ve been where you are. Remember? And you were the one who dragged me through that when everything was shit.”

He’s talking about his own bad break-up from a few years ago. I’d forgotten about it, if I’m honest, but obviously he hasn’t.

He lets go of me and settles back in his seat. “I want to return the favour. So if you want to bitch and moan, then I’m here for it.”

That draws a smile from me, a real one this time. “Thank you.” I’m not sure I’ll take him up on it, but knowing that the offer’s there, and that it’s genuine, goes a long way to soothing my battered heart.

Our food arrives then, thank god, because our conversation’s got way too heavy for lunch on a work day. I tuck into my tuna mayo roll and breathe a sigh of relief when Paul reads me easily and changes the subject to the latest office gossip doing the rounds.

My phone buzzes as we’re finishing up, Jerry’s name on the screen. I reluctantly changed it from hot vet friend after we carried on texting, and it occurred to me that someone might see it. A name like that would only invite questions I don’t want to answer.

We’ve only texted back and forth a few times over the last couple of weeks, and never anything serious, but it’s... nice. Having something separate from my life here, something untouched by all the drama and heartache of the past months.

Something that’s just mine.

I smile as I open the message and read what he’s sent.

Jerry : Just had a cat in the surgery called Toothless. Jet black with green eyes.

Reed : And was he like his namesake?

Jerry : If you mean the pissed-off version at the start of the movie, then yes. I’m now the proud owner of a couple of puncture wounds and a few scratches.

Reed : I thought vets were supposed to have a magic touch with animals.

Jerry : I’m not Dr Doolittle. And the owner’s ‘he’s not keen on the vets’ was clearly a massive understatement.

I’m full-on grinning by this point, looking up when Paul clears his throat to find him watching me, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry.” I set my phone on the table, itching to reply to Jerry’s text but realising how rude I’ve just been.

Paul smirks. “Do not apologise. Not for something that makes you smile like that.” His gaze flicks to my phone, where the screen has helpfully gone off now. “So?”

“So . . . ?”

“Who’re you messaging?”

I haven’t told anyone here about New Year’s Eve. I mean, I told them I went to visit Sean, because they obviously wanted to know why I wasn’t meeting up with them. But I haven’t mentioned Jerry to anyone. Not that there’s all that much to tell.

We kissed.

It was hot.

But it was also a one-off.

And now we text every so often. Random shit about work or stuff on tv, anything that I think he might find funny. But nothing serious, and after that first time, he hasn’t asked.

Like I said . . . it’s nice.

“Is it someone I know?” he asks when I don’t answer.

“Nope.”

His eyes narrow. “It’s not Sean, is it?”

“What? No!” I send him a withering look, which he totally deserves. “You know we’re just friends, and I already told you he’s got a new—well, old , I guess—boyfriend.”

“Well, you don’t go anywhere to meet new people, and if it’s not someone I know...” His eyes widen. “Oh.”

It takes me a second to get where his mind has gone. “It’s not that either.” It’s been a while since I’ve used an app for my dating or sex life, and I’m in no hurry to change that. I huff because he’s showing no signs of letting this go. “It’s someone I met when I went to Charnwell for New Year’s.”

His eyes light up.

“Just a friend,” I add quickly. “We spent the evening together in the pub, but nothing happened.”

Except that kiss, but that’s what you do at midnight. It didn’t mean anything.

Paul’s disappointment is obvious. I’m pretty sure he was hoping I’d have a secret boyfriend or at least a potential hook-up.

“Sorry it’s not more interesting.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He eyes my phone again as the screen lights up, Jerry’s name like a flashing sign pointing out that I’m full of shit. “Seems plenty interesting.”

“It’s not like that.” I pick my phone up and slip it into my pocket, ignoring the pull to read the message. It’s harder than it should be. “I’m not looking for anything more than a friend, and he gets it. And...” I don’t want to make Paul feel guilty or anything, but if I explain, then maybe he’ll let this drop. “I like that he has no connection to anyone here. That he’s only my friend.”

Paul slumps back in his chair with a sigh. “Yeah, I get that.” He nudges me under the table with his foot. “And I’m glad you’ve got him. Even if I’m a little bit jealous that he can make you grin like that when all I get is huffs and eye rolls.”

I nudge him back. “That’s bollocks.” I don’t even realise I’ve rolled my eyes until he points a finger at me and laughs.

“See!” His grin is infectious though, and I find myself returning it.

When we head back to the office, I’m in a much better mood than I normally am after running into Karl. Whether that’s because of Paul, or Jerry, or maybe the fact I’m actually starting to move past it all, I don’t care. I feel lighter, freer than I have in months and it’s so fucking refreshing that my smile lasts all day.

Reed : So, as a country vet, do you have to treat farm animals?

I actually have no idea if there are farms around Charnwell, it’s not something I’ve ever thought about before. Jerry’s only mentioned a few of his patients so far, and they’ve all been either cats or dogs, with the odd rabbit thrown in.

Reed : Are there any farms near you?

It’s almost midnight when he replies.

Jerry : Are there any farms? You’re kidding, right?

I can almost hear the incredulity in his tone and I’m already smiling as I type back.

Reed : Um . . . no?

Jerry : We’re surrounded by them. Both sheep and dairy. How have you never noticed all the farmland before?

Reed : It’s just fields.

I ignore the eye-roll emoji he sends in response.

Reed : So you’re their vet?

Jerry : I am.

Reed : Wow. You must be busy. I’m surprised you manage to fit everyone in.

Jerry : You know there’s not just me at my practice, right?

Oh. That I didn’t know. He’s never mentioned anyone else, so I just assumed. Wrongly, apparently.

Reed : How many of you are there?

My curiosity is piqued. I’d pictured Jerry in some cute little vet practice serving the local community, but maybe I’ve got that wrong too.

Jerry : Well. There’s four vets, then you’ve got veterinary nurses, receptionists. If you’re that interested, you can have a look on our website.

I am interested.

Very.

And I click on the link as soon as he sends it through.

Jerry : Anyway, I need to get to bed. I’ve been up since four this morning, and I’m knackered.

Now I want to know what got him up so early, but that’ll have to wait. I don’t want to keep him from his bed.

Reed : Night, Jerry.

Jerry : Night, Reed.

I stare at the message, warmth spreading out from my chest, until I realise what I’m doing and swipe back to the webpage I just opened. I settle back into the sofa.

The link he sent me goes to a fancy website: Charnwell & Haversage Veterinary Surgery.

It looks bigger than I expected, but still manages to appear cute and quaint. Like it’s been converted from an old-style cottage. Or maybe two.

I click on the About pages and come to a grinding halt at the photos that pop up. It’s a list of everyone who works there.

Jerry’s headshot is front and centre, warm brown eyes staring back at me. His hair is considerably shorter in this photo, and I’ve got to say, I prefer it like it is now. There’s no grey in this one either, so I don’t think it’s all that recent. Not that Jerry’s got a lot of grey hair, but I’m used to the silver strands threaded through the brown at his temples.

It suits him.

The two women to the left of Jerry look a little older than him, but they’re both smiling into the camera, and I instantly get a welcoming vibe from them. I bet their practice is a great place to work.

Unlike my office at the minute.

Too many reminders that Karl works in the same building.

Too many of our friends caught in the middle, walking on eggshells around me more often than not. It’s exhausting some days.

I focus back on the website. One of the guys in that list of employees looks about the same age as Jerry. His black hair has a little more grey in it, and his eyes are a bright blue that reminds me of the crystal clear sea you get on Caribbean islands. Or what I imagine it must look like since I’ve never actually been.

Anyway, they’re bluer than they have any right to be. And his jaw doesn’t need to be that square, for fuck’s sake.

He’s probably straight.

Not that it matters. At all. To anyone.

I’m sure he and Jerry don’t work all that closely together. Like Jerry said, there are a lot of farms and domestic animals demanding their time.

And Jerry and I are just friends, so it’s even more irrelevant whether he has a hot coworker or not.

I have hot coworkers, for fuck’s sake. And I have no idea why my brain is leading me down this path, but I want to get off it. Having hot coworkers is how I ended up broken-hearted in the first place.

Fuck.

And now I’m back to being miserable.

My gaze wanders back to Jerry’s headshot. I’m tempted to text him. My fingers hover over the screen, but then I remember how tired he said he was.

And what would I say anyway? Definitely nothing about—I squint at the screen—Mark Stenson.

I click on one of the drop-down menus and lose myself reading about the practice, and the area and before I know it, I’m yawning. Clearly, Jerry’s not the only one who’s knackered.

Sleep hasn’t exactly been easy to come by lately.

It’s been months since Karl stayed here, but my bed still seems a bit too big when I climb into it. My house a little too quiet.

Maybe I should get a cat?

That’s what I’ll text Jerry about in the morning.

He’s the expert on all things animal related, after all.

I get ready for bed, mentally constructing a checklist of things to ask him while I brush my teeth. I remember him telling me he had a cat. I wonder where he got it from? Does he have any other animals? Not sure I can remember if he mentioned any others. I can ask him about that too.

My mind is still full of all things Jerry as I drift off to sleep.

And for the first time in months, my bed feels more like mine and less like ours as I settle under the quilt.

It’s the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.