Extraits

He spotted the flash of a red and navy uniform through the frosted glass panel in the front door and opened it, expecting to see his usual postman Keith.

But on opening the door, he found himself facing a stranger—an attractive stranger with a cheeky grin and twinkly blue eyes under dark spiky hair.

“You’re not Keith,” Jim said.

“Um… no.” Not-Keith’s grin slipped a little. “He’s off work for a few weeks. Had an op on his knee.” He gestured down and Jim’s eyes followed the movement, getting stuck on a delightful pair of muscular legs that emerged from beneath the postman’s navy shorts.

Shorts, in the middle of December? Jim shivered at the thought of it. It was bloody freezing out there, but sunny at least, he supposed.

Jim realised he was still staring like an idiot at the poor bloke’s knees. He quickly looked up again.