Chapter Six
We climb back inside the van as the heavens officially open, and not even the fluffy candy canes hanging from the rearview mirror can cheer me up.
I can feel Daniela staring at me, but I’m a coward, so I ignore her as I buckle in and grab the keys.
And that’s when the universe officially decides it hates me.
Daniela’s the first to notice something’s wrong, leaning forward with a frown. “What’s that noise?”
Only then do I hear it. It’s barely audible over the rain, but it’s there. A weak sputter from the engine, one that I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to make.
“I just did it wrong,” I mutter and try again. This time I swear it gives a whine. My chest tightens.
I give it a minute and start it up again. Only this time when I turn the key into the ignition, nothing happens.
Oh no. Oh no no no.
“Try again,” Daniela says, and I do, but it’s useless. It doesn’t even try to work. It just stays silent. Dead. Completely dead.
“No,” I groan, resting my head against the steering wheel.
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” I say, miserable and tired and covered in mud. “I’m calling the tow company.”
Daniela doesn’t respond, watching me with a faintly puzzled look as I grab my phone.
It will be an hour at least with the rain.
“I’m sorry,” I say when I relay the news to her. “You must be exhausted.”
“I’m okay,” she says, but I just shake my head, staring out the window. “Hannah.” My name is soft. Beseeching. But when I turn my head to look at her, she’s doing her I’m mad at you scowl. “What the hell is going on?” she asks.
“Nothing. I just wanted some privacy.”
“What do you mean?”
“With you,” I explain. “For Christmas. I haven’t seen you in weeks and I wanted to spend time with you.”
“Okay?” She looks confused. “I’m here now, aren’t I? For a whole week.”
“Yes, but it’s not the same. And I know you’re so good with my family, but they’re everywhere.
Like everywhere all the time and that never bothered me before.
I love my family. But I love you too. So I thought we could do this.
I would pick you up and we could go camping by the lake. You like the lake.”
“I do.”
“It was just going to be for a night or two. Just one night alone together and I just …” I sigh. “I wanted it to be nice.”
She doesn’t say anything for a long moment as cars continue to pass by outside.
And then: “We have plenty of privacy right here.”
I glance over to find her watching me. As soon as our eyes meet, she clambers into the back, and onto the bed, looking like she’s in heaven.
“These are so comfy,” she says, falling back against the cushions. “It does smell faintly of bleach, though.”
“There was a sheep in here,” I admit. “I made Liam hose it down. The van not the sheep.”
She bites her lip. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”
“Well, I know that now,” I say, and she laughs. Because that’s Daniela. Nothing can bring her down. It’s one of the reasons why I love her so much.
“Would you come back here?” she asks, holding her hand out. “Please.”
I sigh and unbuckle myself before joining her.
“Thank you,” she says, pecking me on the lips. “Now change your clothes. You look ridiculous.”
“I knew it,” I mutter, looking down at my mud-stained self. “What are you doing?”
Daniela leans over to her small suitcase and produces a pair of flannel pajama bottoms. “Wow. You’re welcome.”
“You don’t have to—”
She pushes my shoulder until I’m lying back. “Change,” she orders, so I do.
I take the bottoms from her, and lift my hips to shrug off my jeans, but I’ve barely kicked them from my ankles when Daniela suddenly straddles me, pinning my arms to either side of my head.
“Can’t change like this,” I inform her.
She grins. “It was all a ploy, you see. You fell for it.”
“If you want me to strip all you need to do is ask.”
“I know.” She shrugs. “I just wanted to— do you seriously have Christmas-themed underwear on?”
“It’s not like I can wear them in the summer,” I say, defensive as she slides off to sit by my side. She presses a finger into one of the boughs of holly decorating the cotton, then hooks her finger lightly under the waistband.
“This is so you,” she mutters before lifting her eyes back to mine. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird since we left the airport.”
“I’m always weird.”
“Weirder,” she allows. “And I tried to be patient because I’m amazing like that, but you’re starting to freak me out so—”
“I want you to stay,” I blurt, and she stills. When her smile starts to fade, the nerves take over and everything I’ve been worried about comes tumbling out.
“I know I have no right to ask, but also, I kind of do. Because I love you. I love you so much and I want you to stay here with me and it’s not that I don’t think we can do long distance because obviously we can, but it would be terrible and—”
The roll of her eyes is all the warning I get before she kisses me.
My hands shoot to her face as she grasps my waist, our lips meeting in a way that makes my heart beat so hard I’m worried something is actually wrong with it.
It’s a hungry kiss. A heated one. A kiss that speaks to weeks apart and words unsaid and feeling upon feeling upon feeling.
Relief floods through my body as every inch of me begs for more, but before I can have it, she pulls away, smiling at my noise of protest.
“You’re an idiot,” she says. Another kiss. This one over much too soon. “Now. Do you want your Christmas present?”
For a moment, I can only stare up at her, confused and horny and completely distracted. “Do I … what?”
“Do you,” she repeats, dragging her bag over to rummage through, “want your Christmas present?”
“Is it a tow truck?”
“No. And it’s also not your actual present. That you don’t get until Christmas Day, but I wanted to surprise you. I would have done so last week if I’d known you were going to get all dramatic on me.” She produces a torn brown envelope and holds it out. “Voilà.”
“What is it?”
She takes a deep breath. “Hannah Fitzpatrick. Please do not make me explain the concept of a letter to you.”
She throws it on my lap, and I take out a sheet of paper, skimming the neatly printed words before focusing on three of them at the top. Business graduate program.
I look up. “This is an offer.”
“Yeah,” she says, lifting one shoulder in a careless shrug.
“For a graduate program here.”
“Uh-huh.”
“That says they’re delighted you’ve accepted.” I blink and read it again. “You’re staying in Ireland?”
“I am.”
“With me?”
“This is where you live, so yes.”
“But—”
“I love you,” she says. “I love you so much and I’ve so missed you much and while I enjoyed making all these places chase me, it never occurred to me to not stay here. I want to spend every Christmas with you. I want to spend every everything with you and—”
She breaks off with a laugh as I launch myself at her, wrapping my arms around her neck as we land with a thump on the quilt.
“You’re staying?” I demand.
“I’m staying.”
“I love you,” I tell her, peppering her with kisses. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
She smiles against my lips and kisses me back, tightening her embrace in a way that makes me feel like I’m glowing. She feels so familiar beneath me. So much like home. It makes me wonder how we ever spent a day apart. It makes me glad we’ll never have to.
She slips a hand under my sweater, warm fingers reaching up and finding my breast. She makes a small noise of delight when she does and parts her thighs as I settle between them.
This is what I needed. This is what I missed.
And I was right. Privacy is the best gift. No brothers to bother me. No parents to placate. Nothing to interrupt us.
Except the loud knock on the window.
“Are ye all right in there or do you want me to delay the rescue by another few minutes?” A male voice calls outside.
Daniela bursts into giggles as I sit up, tugging my sweater back into place.
“Just a second,” I yell, sending her a warning glance as she scoots up, and I pull on the pajama pants and open the door.
We’re immediately met by the roar of the rain and the fertilizer man from earlier holding a giant umbrella.
“We’ve got some jump leads in the shed,” he says. “Niamh should be able to get you going.” His eyes slide to Daniela, twinkling just a little. “Can come back if you like, though?”
“Dad!” The girl, Niamh, runs over under her own umbrella. “I said I’d talk to them.”
“She’s a mechanic in her spare time,” he continues like she’s not even there.
“I sell Christmas trees in my spare time,” she mutters, before shooting us an apologetic glance. “Let me bring the car around.”
“That would be great,” I mumble. “Thank you.”
“You’re definitely getting a five-star review,” Daniela adds and Niamh forgets to be annoyed at her father for a second as she beams.
“Come on then,” he says knowingly. “Let’s get you to where you need to be and you can pick up where you left off.”
That sends Daniela into another laughing fit and the man grins at his mortified daughter as he pulls the door closed again.
“Well, that’s embarrassing,” I mutter as I sit back down.
Daniela hums, still smiling as she rests her head against my shoulder. “It’s good to be home,” she says, twining our fingers together. I kiss the top of her head and press my forehead to hers. I couldn’t have said it better myself.