Page 132 of Holiday Romance
My laugh comes out like a hiccup. “We’ve got a lot of years to catch up on.”
“Better start making up for them then.” And he does, dipping his head to press his lips against mine as softly as he did under the mistletoe.
“I’m in love with you,” I say, because I need him to hear this. I need him to understand what I suddenly, overwhelmingly do. “In an extremely non-platonic, never-leave-me way.”
“I won’t,” he murmurs. His gaze softens as he wipes a snowflake from my cheek. “For as long you’ll have me.”
Forever.
Because I know in my soul there will only be him. There’s only ever been him.
“You’re cold,” he murmurs after a moment of us just gazing at each other like two love-struck kids.
“I’m fine.”
He grimaces. “Okay, that was just me being macho, I’m the one who’s cold.”
I smirk and go to hold his hand, but that’s not enough for him. He draws me firmly into his side, arm wrapped around my waist, and I think about all the times he’s done this before and how neither of us thought twice about it. It was always natural for us to touch, to be as close as we could to one another. Just another hint maybe, that this was always supposed to be our fate.
We step inside and my nose tingles at the change in temperature. Andrew tugs my damp scarf and coat off, his eyes running over me when I shiver as though assessing for signs of damage.
I can hear Mam fussing over Hannah in the kitchen and catch a glimpse of my dad in the living room, rocking his sleeping grandchild with a look on his face I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him before. Andrew hangs my coat up just as Zoe comes downstairs, dressed in a giant fluffy sweatshirt. She stops when she catches sight of us, eyes dropping to where we grip each other’s hands like someone’s trying to tear us apart.
Her lips twitch. “Oh, hey,” she says casually. “Nice to see you again, Andrew.”
“How are you doing?”
“Peachy,” she says though she’s looking straight at me. “It’s really coming down out there,” she says after a beat. “We’ll go from staring at it in wonder to complaining about it in less than twenty-four hours, I guarantee it. Are you sticking around?”
“For a while yet,” he says, his tone just as light even as his fingers tighten around mine.
Zoe only nods. “I’ll put the kettle on then,” is all she says, and turns without another word into the next room.
“Welcome home, Molly.”
I look to my left to see Dad lingering in the doorway, still rocking his grandson.
“Hi, Dad.”
“We didn’t open the presents,” he continues. “Well, except for your sister. She opened hers last week because your mother got her an air fryer and she wanted to try it.”
“You waited for me?”
“Of course we did.” Dad looks surprised. “It’s not Christmas without you here, now is it?” His eyes drift to Andrew. “Bet your mother was glad to have you back.”
“She was,” Andrew says. “Thanks to this one.”
“Your arm will go dead,” I add, but Dad only smiles faintly, his attention fixed firmly back on the grandchild in his arms as he turns toward the couch.
“Sure, he’s only a small thing,” he says, settling into the cushions. “Light as a feather. Come in here when you have a minute,” he adds. “So I can say hello properly.”
Andrew shares a smile with me before shrugging off his damp coat to hang it beside mine.
“Andrew?” Zoe calls from the kitchen. “Do you take milk in your tea?”
“Just a splash,” he says like he’s been here a thousand times before.
I hear Hannah ask for two sugars before politely accepting a second slice of cake from Mam.
