Page 112 of Holiday Romance
But they’re not here right now, are they? There’s only us, so I give into it, kissing him back and tightening my hold around him until my body hums with pleasure. We stay like that for a perfect, blissful minute, cocooned in our own little world until a loud shout echoes around the walls, breaking us apart.
“Andrew!”
We both freeze, staring wide-eyed at each other as Hannah’s annoyed voice calls from somewhere nearby. “Mam rang and told us to come home!”
“Whoever invented little sisters can burn in hell,” Andrew mutters, resting his forehead briefly against mine before pulling away.
“Christmas with your family,” I remind him as he lowers me carefully to my feet. “You love Christmas with your family.”
“She also wants to know what kind of gravy Molly wants,” Hannah continues, her voice drawing closer as he zips my coat back up. “Or if she should make another— Oh.”
Hannah rounds the corner, stopping abruptly when she catches sight of us. Her sudden grin reminds me so much of Andrew that I’m a little spooked. “You guys smooching?” she asks, sounding delighted by the thought.
“Don’t say smooching,” Andrew grumbles, stepping away from me. He grabs my hand as he goes, tugging me once more into his side.
“Making out?” Hannah continues. “Swapping spit?”
“Would you shut up?”
“Tangling tongues?”
“Hannah—”
“Let me guess,” she interrupts, rubbing her nose absently in the cold. “I’m too young to know what kissing is.”
“You are.”
“When did you have your first kiss?”
“That’s none of your business,” Andrew huffs, walking us back toward the village. Hannah latches onto my other side, not letting up.
“Didn’t you have it in the castle? You did!” Her eyes light up at whatever expression she sees on his face. “Is that why you brought Molly here? That is so corny.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Down the well, maybe?”
“Andrew can be very sentimental,” she tells me, looping her arm through mine so I have a Fitzpatrick on either side of me. “It’s kind of cute.”
“I’m not cute. I’m a grown man.”
Hannah continues undeterred. “For my seventh birthday I wasridiculouslyinto Disney princesses,” she says. “And he surprised me by coming home for the party. He had the full-on Prince Charming outfit from Cinderella and he brought me back the dress, you know the blue one? He waltzed with me in the living room and then had to do it with every single one of my friends.”
“Thatispretty cute,” I confirm as Andrew shoots me a look, one that drops completely at Hannah’s next words.
“It’s why I got into fashion.”
“It is?” he asks. His surprise is obvious. “You never told me that.”
“It was definitely then. I was obsessed with that dress. I wore it every day after school for weeks until Mam threw it out and said it was an accident. I wouldn’t stop crying and she told me if I loved something that much, I should learn how to make my own one. So, I did.”
“When you were seven?” I ask.
“I didn’t say it was any good. Mam helped me staple some crepe paper to one of her old skirts. But yeah. That’s when it started.”
Andrew’s gazing at her with a look on his face that makes me want to kiss him again, but thankfully before I can and make Hannah go truly nuts, Liam’s children come running around the bend, the dogs not far behind. Hannah uses the distraction to draw me away, letting the others bring up the rear as we stride down the path.
“You know,” I say as we leave the village behind. “You make me feel very old.”
She bursts out laughing. “Why?”
