Page 68 of Holiday Romance
And there it is. His grin is instant, lighting up his whole face, and the carousel in the background is a blur of so much color and movement that it’s like the noise of it is captured alongside everything else. And with a small click of my finger, I’ve saved it forever.
I don’t even need to look at it to know I did a good job and I pass the camera back to him, feeling so happy that it almost hurts. “There,” I say. “Now we’re even.”
“Even?” he asks, still smiling.
I nod, turning back to the water as he examines the photo. “Now I’ve got your soul too.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The house is dark when we get back, but even though we need to be up in a few hours, I’m not ready for the night to end just yet. I think about proposing a movie, maybe raiding the fridge for some snacks and recreating the Christmas we would have had if we stayed in Chicago. But my grand plan goes out the window as soon as we step through the door and see a line of discarded clothes scattered down the hallway leading to the kitchen.
“Huh,” I say as Andrew sighs. He runs his hand along the wall, searching for a light switch, and when he finds it, I see the clothes are accompanied by receipts and what looks like bank cards, as though someone (Oliver) had gone through his pockets as he undressed, leaving a trail of bizarre breadcrumbs behind him.
Andrew turns the light off again. “I say we just go to bed.”
“What if he’s hurt himself?” I ask, already heading to the kitchen.
“What if he has company and you’re interrupting him?”
“It’s justhisclothes,” I point out, though I get ready to close my eyes quickly in the event of a naked Oliver plus company roaming around the house. Thankfully, it doesn’t happen, and I find our gracious host slumped on the kitchen floor beside the fridge dressed in a full Santa suit, white beard and all.
“Cousin!” he proclaims when he sees me.
“I’m the friend,” I tell him.
“And yet you already feel like family, such is our connection.”
He’s wasted. Pissed.Inebriated.Whatever you want to call it, the man is going to feel it in the morning.
“You should have worn that back at Lara’s house,” I joke as Andrew comes into the room behind me.
“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m usually much more civilized than this but I met up with my friend Zac in Chelsea and he insisted.”
“Did he?” Andrew asks flatly.
“Well, I didn’t want to be rude,” Oliver says, looking wounded that Andrew would even think of such a thing.
“Do I need to take you to the hospital?”
“I’d much rather you order me a tikka masala.”
“How about a glass of water and some toast?”
Oliver sighs loudly but doesn’t protest and, as Andrew finds his way around the kitchen, I reach into my pocket and hand him the box of gingersnap cookies I picked up as we were leaving the market.
He smiles at me, turning it over in his hands. “You got me a present?”
“As a thank you for letting us stay.”
“That is almost questionably thoughtful of you, Molly, but I shall accept it in the spirit which I’m sure it’s intended.”
“…Great.”
His eyes latch onto my face, surprisingly focused. “Did you have a nice time?” he asks, suddenly urgent.
“We had a lovely time.”
“You’ll come back to visit then. With or without Andrew, I have no strong feelings toward the man.”
