Daisy's Christmas Gift Shop Read online

  About the Book

  Daisy's Christmas Gift Shop

  by Hannah Pearl

  Struggling to find the perfect Christmas gift? Step into Romantic Daze …

  Daisy Kirk is a sucker for a love story, which is why she opened up her gift shop – because there’s nothing that makes Daisy happier than when she’s helped a customer achieve their own ‘happily ever after’ by finding the perfect Christmas gift for their loved one. And she absolutely does not just sell ‘soppy presents and frilly pants’ as her brother’s infuriating best friend, Eli, is so fond of suggesting.

  The sad fact is that whilst Daisy is helping others with their love lives, hers is non-existent. But when unusual circumstances take Daisy and Eli on a road trip from London to rural Wales, will she finally get the happily ever after to her own Christmas love story?

  Stories that inspire emotions!

  www.rubyfiction.com

  Contents

  About the Book

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Thank you

  About the Author

  More Ruby Fiction

  Introducing Ruby Fiction

  Dedication

  Copyright information

  Preview of It's My Birthday by Hannah Pearl

  Chapter One

  I didn’t grow up wanting to be a princess. Instead I’d spent my formative years chasing after Ben, my twin brother, getting more than my fair share of skinned knees and ripped trousers. I didn’t even spend my teenage years reading high fashion magazines or lusting after the latest pair of designer shoes. Admittedly, I may have read a few bridal magazines here and there. Mostly I’d spent that time thirsting after Ben’s best friend since our first day of school, Elijah, or Eli to his admirers. And there were many.

  Ben and I resembled each other closely, both barely a whisker over five-foot-six, with hair that shone golden in the sunlight but was positively mousey all winter, and green eyes which Dad always said showed our every emotion. We’d never been able to lie to him growing up, not that we had tried often. Ben, because he lived in a very clear-cut world of rules, and lying wasn’t acceptable to him, and me because I thought that people didn’t like liars, and I wanted everyone to like me. I still do.

  I slipped the emerald-green silk dress over my head and shimmied until it dropped over my hips. ‘Are you sure that this is suitable for a winter wedding?’ I asked Lily, and not for the first time.

  She handed me a pair of silver heels and I slid them on, wobbling for a moment before I found my balance. ‘It’s perfect,’ she reassured me. ‘It matches your eyes. Not that anyone will be looking that high.’ She motioned at my cleavage, which, whilst fairly modest, was still doing its best to escape from the low-cut V of my dress. I tugged it up but Lily caught my hands. ‘Leave it,’ she said. ‘Let Eli see what he’s missing.’

  ‘I don’t want Eli seeing any part of me ever again,’ I muttered, but Lily wasn’t listening. She knew as well as I did that I was lying. Okay, I exaggerated earlier. On occasion I have been known to bend the truth, but I try not to make a habit of it, apart from when it came to Eli. ‘I don’t know why I’m asking you for fashion advice,’ I continued, pouting as my best friend handed me my cream fake fur wrap. ‘It’s not like you wear enough clothes to know.’

  Lily managed what she referred to as an adult boutique, but what the rest of the world knew was actually a sex shop. She spent her days selling handcuffs, vibrators and leather clothes with holes cut out for the very sections most clothes were designed to cover. Lily often tested her apparel before she sold it and despite knowing her for the last three years, I’d never plucked up the courage to ask if she tested out the rest of her products too. Today, she was wearing a black leather corset which laced at the back and a short deep red velvet skirt. Her shiny black boots ended just above her knee, and despite the heels being taller than I would ever attempt, she was still an inch shorter than me. I didn’t know how she got into the top by herself, but with more of her ample charms outside of her corset than under it, she’d have no shortage of volunteers if she were to need help when taking it off. She looked amazing.

  Lily handed me a lipstick and I opened the cap before peeking and handing it back. ‘I think I’ll go for something more subtle,’ I told her. Lily shrugged and used it to paint her own lips scarlet. With her jet-black curly hair hanging loose to her shoulders, she could carry off such a bright shade. I stuck to a quick slick of lip gloss, all the easier not to smudge or lick off when I got nervous.

  ‘Done,’ Lily said, nodding at me in approval. She shooed me out of my cluttered bedroom at the back of my shop and up the wooden stairs to the section of the house where my dad and brother lived. The Tudor beams that criss-crossed the pale walls had bowed over the centuries, but they continued to hold firm, propping up our tall, thin home.

  We followed the voices into the kitchen, where Ben and Eli were sat having a cup of tea at the table. Dad turned to face us and when he saw me in my dress a smile flitted across his face. It even reached his eyes, which was a rare occurrence, but just as quickly it was gone again. He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek. ‘You look beautiful, Daisy, just like your mum did at your age,’ he said and turned back to the counter where he was making himself a sandwich. His shoulders hunched as he buttered his bread. I hadn’t meant to upset him by resembling my mother but his grief was unavoidable, even after all of these years.

  Ben drained the last of his tea and stood up to place his mug in the sink. His navy-blue suit, freshly dry cleaned the week before in preparation for the wedding, was already creased around his knees. Eli, by contrast, looked striking. And what a contrast he made. He had plumped for a charcoal-grey suit and the black shirt he’d paired with it was only a shade darker than his eyes. He towered over the rest of us by a good six inches, and whilst this had never mattered to me, I knew that sometimes Ben felt that he looked boyish by comparison. Eli’s black hair was shaved close to his skin, and I could smell his aftershave from across the room. Not that he had put a lot on, just that my brain was still alert to his scent, no matter how much I had tried to convince it not to be.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t mind me going out too?’ I asked my dad. ‘I can stay if you like. We can watch a film together.’

  He shook his head. ‘You’ve got all done up to go out. Don’t waste the effort on an old man.’ He finished assembling his meal and sat at the table with it. ‘Are you going too, Lily?’ he asked. Her outfit may not have been considered appropriate for most weddings, but as Lily dressed this way for everything, from work to doctor’s appointments, I couldn’t blame him for needing to check.

  ‘I’ve got to work this
evening,’ she said, kissing his cheek and turning to leave. ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’ She winked at me as she passed.

  ‘That probably doesn’t leave a lot,’ Eli replied and I shot him a dirty look.

  ‘You can talk,’ I said, and Ben quickly sprang to his defence. Within moments we were bickering like kids. Eventually Dad had had enough and banged his knife against his plate until we shut up.

  ‘Lily, I’m glad that you can express yourself through your wardrobe, even if the rest of us are not as brave. Ben, be polite to your guests. Daisy, the same goes to you. Eli and Lily are visitors to our home. Even if they are here most of the time.’ He stopped and sipped his tea. ‘And you should afford them both more respect.’ I knew that he wanted me to apologise to Eli but instead I just glared at the floor. ‘Eli,’ he continued, ‘I believe there’s a saying that your mother was fond of quoting, something about he who is without sin casting the first stone. That might be relevant here.’

  Suitably chastened we all wished my dad a pleasant evening and filed out in silence. It wasn’t until Lily had tottered off to work and Ben, Eli and I were stood on the main road waiting for our taxi that any of us spoke again. ‘That was your fault,’ Ben muttered.

  ‘Was not.’ I accidentally on purpose skewered his foot with my stiletto. He hopped around swearing, trying to rub his injured toe through his shoe.

  ‘If she didn’t dress like a tart—’ Eli interjected.

  ‘I thought that was your usual type,’ I spat back. He didn’t reply, just stared at me and I wondered if he was also thinking back to the night when we were newly sixteen and I had very much been his type. And he had been mine, albeit only for a few heady hours. We stood in silence after that until the cab pulled up, silver, sleek and shiny.

  Eli opened the door and stood back so that I could climb in. It was a more gentlemanly gesture than he usually bothered with towards me, and I thanked him. As I slid in, my dress fell open, displaying the slit that ended high enough up my thigh that I’d had Lily check earlier in the evening that nobody would be able to see my knickers from any angle. At least I knew that I hadn’t displayed more than I’d meant to, but it didn’t explain why he was still staring.

  ‘Cover up, Daisy,’ Eli said, but I noticed that he hadn’t looked away yet. It seemed that Lily was also correct about the effect of a strategically placed garter belt. I wanted to ignore him but I also didn’t want to get folds in my dress so I shot him a dirty look as I rearranged my layers. Ben swung himself into the car and narrowly avoided landing on my lap. I shoved him aside. Eli closed the door behind Ben and took a seat in the front next to the driver. ‘Sherrinford Hall please,’ he said, and the car pulled away from the curb. Eli turned to offer me a chewing gum, but it was juicy fruit flavour and I didn’t think it would go well with the wine I was hoping to drink shortly.

  The happy couple had tied the knot officially at a town hall earlier in the afternoon in front of their families, but had chosen the beautiful and haunting gothic building on the fringes of the forest in Essex for their wedding reception. There were barely two weeks to go until Christmas so holly wreaths and simple golden lights hung from the stone porch. The fir tree on the left of the front door was lit up by a string of shimmering silver bulbs.

  Inside, the decorations were styled to suit the age of the building, and were largely made of paper and lace. I hated to think of the risk of fire from all of the candles which sat in small glass bowls around the outskirts of the room. A Christmas tree, ornately decked in ribbons and baubles, was tall enough to skim the ceiling. We were handed a glass of champagne, and I sipped mine slowly as I took in the surroundings. It was perfect, and if I could bottle the romantic atmosphere I’d have been able to sell it and make my fortune.

  Ben wandered off with his wine, leaving Eli and me in an awkward silence. Eli eventually broke it. ‘You look beautiful.’

  I stared at him, amazed that he had found something polite to say. I had been perfectly happy to wait without speaking. ‘Thank you,’ I said, taking another sip of my drink. ‘Considering that you probably spent the last month hiding behind rocks in the desert or dodging assassins or whatever it is that you do, you’ve scrubbed up pretty well too.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, and the fleeting moment of truce was fractured.

  ‘Of all the big headed …’ I began, but Ben chose that moment to reappear.

  ‘We’re seated at table eleven,’ he told us, handing Eli a pint of lager. Eli handed me his almost full glass of champagne. I looked him in the eye as I downed it.

  ‘Elegant,’ he said, so I stuck my tongue out at him.

  Ben either didn’t notice or didn’t care, or maybe he was just used to us arguing, as he tugged my arm to guide me to where we were to be seated for the meal. ‘I’m here,’ he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. ‘Erin is on my left. Where is Erin?’ He got up and wandered off again. His bottom had been on the seat for less than a second.

  ‘Looks like I’m here,’ Eli said. He shrugged his jacket off, arranging it over the back of his chair and sat down. He reached across and picked up a small folded rectangle of ivory card and read it aloud. ‘Eli’s plus one. Looks like you’re next to me.’

  ‘I feel so honoured,’ I said, laying on the sarcasm, given that he obviously hadn’t told the bride or groom my actual name. ‘I still don’t get why you both needed to bring dates.’

  ‘We didn’t,’ Eli replied. ‘The invites said that we could if we wanted to, and you know your brother. He can fix or programme any electrical device you care to mention, but sometimes he misses subtleties. When he read that he could bring a guest he thought that meant that he had to, and before you know it he’d asked Erin. I never knew he had the courage.’

  ‘So why did you ask me?’ I said, finally making eye contact again and holding it this time.

  ‘I know you love weddings, and it’s been a while since you had chance to get dressed up. I figured that you could use a break. Ben said you’ve been working all hours in the run up to Christmas.’

  I picked up my glass and clinked it against his, thanking him for the thoughtfulness. It really had been a busy few weeks and he was right, it was nice to have the opportunity to get out. The one drawback of having my bedroom at the back of my shop was that it was hard sometimes to feel like I was off duty.

  ‘Besides, you know what single women are like at weddings,’ Eli continued. ‘They get all drunk and emotional. I reckon I’ve got a decent shot of hooking up tonight even with you glaring at all my targets.’

  I laughed, and Eli stared at me for a second before joining in. It was just what we needed to break the tension between us.

  ‘As long as you weren’t planning on hooking me,’ I told him.

  ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said, sliding his arm around my chair, his hand gliding a gentle trail across my waist as he leaned back to assess the talent in the room. He nodded in the direction of a woman who was laughing far too loudly at the bar. She slammed her empty glass down and was immediately handed another by the man on her left.

  ‘Too drunk too early,’ I said. ‘If she carries on at this speed she’ll be a mess by the end of the night.’ Eli accepted my judgement and continued to scan. ‘Too eager,’ I said to his next potential target. ‘She’ll have texted to tell you that she misses you five minutes after you leave her bed.’ That prediction was enough to put him off, just as I knew it would. Eli wasn’t known for his love of commitment. ‘Too skinny’ I said, to the one after that.

  ‘It’s not like you to be jealous.’ Eli smirked.

  ‘I’m just scared you’ll squash her, you and your massive man muscles.’ He grinned even wider after that. ‘My turn,’ I said, and looked around the room for anyone who caught my eye. Whilst there was plenty of talent on offer, no one made me look twice. Eli noticed my reticence and began to preen. ‘Okay, how about him?’ I said, pointing at a man who was fiddling with his tie in the corner.

  ‘Too self
-obsessed,’ Eli said, barely looking at him. I’d have complained but it was the same judgement I’d made.

  ‘Him?’ I said, pointing at a man who was chatting to the bride. His long, blond hair fell across his face and he raised his hand to sweep it aside as he spoke. Even from across the room I could appreciate the gesture as his eyes were the kind of azure you could lose yourself gazing into.

  ‘I don’t think you’re his type,’ Eli said, and I was about to protest when another man left the gents, walked over, greeted the bride too, before kissing my intended full on the lips. It was a lucky escape. He was stunningly gorgeous and I’d never have actually had the courage to chat him up.

  I shrugged and turned my back to the room. ‘I didn’t need to find someone anyway,’ I said, finishing my champagne. ‘Weddings are about love, not just hooking up.’

  ‘So says the queen of romance,’ Eli said, reaching across the table until he snagged the bottle of white wine and refilling my glass.

  ‘My business does very well, regardless of the success, or lack thereof, in my own love life.’ This was lucky, I thought, as I was currently very, very single. Plus, my little shop had been doing well until recently. Dad didn’t charge me rent but business rates and utilities had been taking an increasingly large bite from my takings. If things didn’t start to pick up soon I’d be struggling during the dry spell that sometimes hit after the Valentine’s Day boom had ended. I didn’t want to give Eli the satisfaction of knowing that I might be in trouble. He had never quite understood the niche market that my little boutique of romance provided for.

  I may never have been especially feminine or graceful, but I’ve always been a hopeless romantic. Maybe it’s because my parents were teenage sweethearts. My dad said that he’d fallen in love the first time he saw my mum. She’d just moved to London from a little village in North Wales. She’d wanted a break from the busy roads and had wandered down a quiet side street when she had spotted the shop and gone in to buy a sticky bun. My grandad ran a bakery from what was now my shop and had ovens in what was now my bedroom. They’d been married within a year, and though they’d always wanted children it was twenty years before they had any.