Christmas With the Best Man Read Free

key ring from her pocket. “Come ‘round to the back and I’ll show you the place.”
    The door behind the fish shop opened to a tiny entry and a staircase leading to the second floor. Mrs. Gilmore unlocked the door at the top of the stairs. “Here we are. It’s been closed up tight for a few months, but it’s dry. There’s wood in the fireplace, and I’ll have my daughter bring more ‘round. That’s the only heat.”
    She pointed to the door in a corner. “The water closet’s there. There’s a tub, too. No stove or refrigerator, but you’ll find a hot plate in the cupboard.”
    “It’s perfect, thank you.” He hadn’t even thought about where to buy food. The light through the windows was fading, so stores would likely be closing soon. If they hurried, they could at least hit the pub for fish and chips. He took the key from Mrs. Gilmore and he closed the door behind her when she left.
    Jasmine was staring at the single bed against one wall. “Uh-uh. No how, no way.”
    “Fine with me, you can sleep on the floor. You’ve got more padding than I do, anyway.”
    “Thanks, loads.”
    He rolled his eyes. “Curves. You know. If I said you had no padding you’d still be insulted. Hell, take the bed. I don’t care.”
    With the smirky grin of a girlfriend who’d won an argument, she said, “Cool.” She threw her bags on the bed.
    He scratched his arm. Couple. Room. Girlfriend . He was getting hives from all this talk. Just because Jasmine’s best friend married the lead singer in the band, she’d better not get any ideas for herself. He didn’t do relationships, much less marriage.  

Chapter Two

    After changing into dry clothes, Jasmine and Joey went back to the pub for dinner. Her heavy coat was damp clear through on the shoulders, so she bundled in layers and wore her hoodie to keep her hair from getting any wetter.
    With no overhang around the side of the building, they were soaked by the time they reached the store awnings in front. “Remind me why we didn’t bring umbrellas.”
    “I don’t even own an umbrella.” Joey tugged the brim of his hat down.
    “Maybe I should steal one of your hats.”
    “Maybe I’d let you wear one if you asked nicely.”
    Talking with him was like talking with her younger brother. Snappy retorts, each one trying to best the other. She would go nuts spending days alone with him. “Can we make a pact?”
    Shoving his hands deeper into his pocket, Joey said, “Depends. What’s up?”
    “Can we agree not to argue until we’re safely back in the states?”
    “Who says we argue? You might be arguing, but I’m not.”
    Jasmine gave him a sidelong glance.
    He grinned. “Gotcha. Yeah, I’ll try to stop with the snarky comebacks. No guarantees, though.”
    Sighing, she said, “I guess if you stopped completely, I’d wonder who the stranger was I shared a room with. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t snore.”
    “Did I keep you awake during the flight over here?”
    He had a point. She let the question hang in the air.
    The pub felt even warmer than when they’d been there half an hour ago. It was heavenly. More locals had arrived, which meant more chatter and laughter. Jasmine found a table instead of sitting on a stool.
    “I’ll go order.” Joey walked away.
    By agreement, they’d all taken turns paying for meals and drinks, to make it easier than doing the math. Kenzi had offered to pay Jasmine’s way, but that would’ve made her feel like a fangirl, a hanger-on. She’d insisted on taking her share of the bills.
    Joey returned with a pair of ales and set one in front of her. She sipped hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to warm ale.”
    “It’s not warm. It’s cooler than room temperature.”
    She closed her eyes and sighed. So much for not arguing.
    “Sorry,” Joey said, setting down his glass. “Technically that wasn’t an argument. It was a correction of fact.”
    “I forget you share lyric writing duties with Chaz. You