“Thank you for everything,” the new Mrs Georgia Wolstenholme said, her lips free of the lipstick that had been so carefully applied nearly ten hours ago. “You’ve made this day amazing.”

Sorrell smiled, more out of relief than happiness. The day had been a nerve-wracking one, making sure everything was as her distant cousin’s now bride had requested, but it had all gone to plan. Her chef had done an excellent job with the food, Abby and two other bartenders she’d borrowed from Scott for the night had kept the bar running smoothly, and the team of waiting on staff had been excellent too. In fact, she’d offered permanent weekend jobs to two of the high school kids who had been there tonight and one to a local woman who had also asked about housekeeping vacancies.

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. When do you leave for your honeymoon?” Sorrell said.

“The day after tomorrow. Two weeks in the Caribbean. I can’t wait. Especially after the build-up to this. I know it’s been a simple wedding as far as weddings go, but it’s still been stressful. Do you think you’ll do another one here? My bridesmaid, Caitlin, is looking for a venue and she asked if ours was a one off of if she’d be able to get a quote from you, depending on your availability.”

“Sure,” Sorrell said, feeling a mixture of dread and elation that she was too tired to fully untangle. “If she gives me a call, or even finds me tomorrow I can have a chat with her and her man.”

“It’s her woman,” Georgia smiled. “You’re being licensed for civil ceremonies too, aren’t you?”

“I submitted the paperwork last week,” Sorrell told her. “There’s no reason we won’t be granted the licence for the venue. I’m having a pagoda built outside in the garden come spring so we can look at the possibility of outside weddings too, if the weather allows.” It had been Zack’s idea. He’d mentioned it on the one and only time they’d managed to get out on a date when she’d confessed her ambitions for the place and realised that perhaps she wasn’t going to simply get it up and running and then sell. There was becoming more and more to stay here for.

“That’s definitely something Caitlin and Joanna will be interested in. I know they were interested in a summer wedding.” She gave a sigh. “I’m shattered. You think anyone will mind if I head off to bed?”

“Your new husband, perhaps?” Sorrell laughed. They had been the perfect married couple so far: happy, excited, gracious and fun with all their guests. And she’d seen the way they’d looked at each other—as much as the day had been for their guests to enjoy, it had also been for themselves.

“He’s told me to say the word and he’ll take up his role as my sex slave apparently. That was before he’d had three whiskeys.” She gave a knowing smile. “I’m not sure I want him to be my sex slave tonight. Maybe my sleep slave instead. What time’s check out tomorrow?”

Sorrell smiled. “Midday, but don’t worry if you’re longer. I’ve no one using your room till the evening. They’re travelling up from London.”

“Thanks,” Georgia suppressed a yawn. “Time to say my goodnight. And thanks once again for everything.” She leaned in to give Sorrell a hug. “Your hotel is beautiful. You’re going to do really well here.”

Sorrell watched as Georgia mingled for another twenty minutes, saying her good nights to the guests who were still there. Last orders had been called, some of the guests staying had headed to their rooms, some had taken taxis back to wherever their hotels were or back home if they were close enough.

It wasn’t that long until it would’ve been her wedding. Friday December thirteenth, an unlucky omen but the date had been available at relatively short notice and they hadn’t wanted a long engagement. It had been Mark’s idea to get married quickly and now she wondered why that was. But self-doubt was a monster she was trying to put behind her.

Sorrell regarded Georgia’s dress and remembered her own, the fitted waist and intricate lace. She’d been looking forward to being a bride; as a little girl she’d been obsessed with weddings, always asking her unmarried parents to pull over in the car so she could see a bride if they passed a wedding. Now she wondered if part of the reason she’d moved so fast with Mark was because of the promise of a wedding. She had been in love with the idea, rather than the man.

“Penny for your thoughts.” The voice was deep and familiar, stirring something in her chest.

“I’m not sure they’re worth a penny.”

She turned to Zack, finding him wearing what she called his work clothes: a button down white shirt and chinos.

“Are you finished for the night yet?”

“When they’ve dispersed. Macy is coming in to clean up in the morning so I don’t need to worry about that. But I’d like to get it tidy,” she said, trying not to stare too much. She needed a distraction from thinking about her almost wedding and Zack in his shirt with his light brown hair mussed was distraction perfection.

“Let’s start tidying then,” he said. “That’ll give people the hint to get moving.”

She eyed him. “Have you come straight here from work?”

He shrugged. “The Severton Flu Epidemic continues. We lost a resident tonight too.”

“I’m so sorry.” She grasped both of his arms without thinking.

“No,” he said, a big, wide smile growing. “Not as in died. I should’ve explained better. Mr Jackman went missing for a time. Turns out he’d gone to see those fucking alpacas. We found him in the barn, all wrapped up, and talking to two of them. God bless Alzheimer’s.”

Sorrell tipped her head back and laughed, relieved. One of the residents had passed away earlier in the week. It had been no great surprise as they’d been poorly for some time; they’d been in the nursing wing for a couple of months, but it was still sad. Zack had called her late that night, explaining and then talking to her about Christmas in Severton, moving his mind forward, as he explained it, because life still went on. It had too.

“Are the alpacas alright?” Sorrell gave him a smile, something which came easy. He was a good man, as well as making her days seem that little bit brighter. “Not too traumatised?”

Zack laughed, collecting a couple of glasses from nearby. “I think they were quite taken by him. They’re quite into humans. Jake’s considering putting fake antlers on them and bringing some of them down to the town on Christmas Eve. Me and Scott are working out a way to stop that from happening.”

“It’ll be fun,” Sorrell said. More of the guests were heading away, the bride and groom heading upstairs to the best bedroom, the one with the separate sitting room and large walk in shower with a whirlpool bath. It had been the honeymoon suite she’d wanted.

“There’s enough going on in Severton on Christmas Eve. I can’t wait for you to see it.” His tone was genuinely happy.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said. “Just…” Then she stopped, because talking to him about her cancelled wedding was not something she wanted to do, not a line of conversation she wanted to burden him with.

“Let’s clear up and then you can finish that sentence.”

She pursed her lips, about to argue and he silenced her with a quick finger against her mouth.

“Yes. Bring a bottle of that sparkly wine thing to your cottage and we’ll talk. I’m too wired to go home and we should be on our second date by now,” he said. “Let’s make tonight date number two.”

“Okay,” she said, her hands automatically finding him again. She wasn’t a tactile person normally; her parents had seen to that. Despite all their hippy ways, they weren’t ones to show physical affection and Sorrell had found it hard to do the same. The therapy she’d had herself in order to become a therapist had gone some way to making her more comfortable with touch, but it was still a considered thing to do, most of the time.

He gave her an almost shy grin, but a genuinely happy one, not like the smiles she had seen from Mark while they were together. “That was easy.”

She tipped her head to the side, letting her look say everything and then started to clear the tables of empty glasses.