CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – SYLVIE #2
“Almost right away. You’re a terrible liar, and so is your mother. Actually, she’s more of a guilty liar than a bad one.” I tilted my head to the side. “It was also quite obvious. Your mum hasn’t been involved in the running of the estate since before your dad passed, so…”
He huffed, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Fine, I admit it. I called her on the way back here after you fell asleep, and we figured it out from there.”
“Why did you want her to take credit for it?”
“Ah, you see, there’s someone I know who rather has a vendetta against me for being her knight in shining armour, so…”
I spun around in his grip, cupped his cheeks, and pressed my lips to his. No tiptoes were needed thanks to my heels, and I pressed my body right against his as he responded.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his lips. “I haven’t said that yet. Thank you for saving the wedding, Tom. And maybe Christmas, too.”
He smiled, dipping his face closer to mine. “I saved Christmas, huh? ‘Thank you’ seems like a very small reward for something so momentous.”
“Oh? You’re after a reward?” I pulled back with a smirk. “And here I was, thinking you’d done it out of the goodness of your heart.”
“No.” He leant with me, nuzzling his nose across my cheek. “Nobody ever does something for nothing.”
“Ha! All right, then. What reward would you like?”
He smiled, holding his lips millimetres from mine. “You.”
That single word shot a jolt of something down my spine, and that electricity trickled through my veins until every inch of my skin was tingling.
“That’s pretty greedy of you,” I murmured, sliding my hands around the back of his neck.
Thomas chuckled, sliding his hands down my back. “I know. Luckily, I’m a patient man.”
“What if I’m not a patient woman?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if I said you could have me?”
He leant back and met my gaze. “Don’t toy with me, woman.”
I drew in a deep breath and smiled, touching my cold hand to his face. I brushed my thumb across his cheekbone, holding his apprehensive gaze. “Christmas miracles do happen, you know.”
“Sylvie—”
I kissed him, throwing the weight of my feelings behind that one simple touch. “I want this,” I whispered, barely breaking our kiss. “Whatever it is… Whatever it could be… I want to see, Tom. If your feelings are still the same…”
“They’re not,” he said gruffly. “They’re more. They’re so much more.”
“Let’s figure it out. Whatever the future looks like for us, I…” I gripped his collar. “I want to find out.”
He said nothing.
He didn’t even twitch.
“I like you. A lot. More than that, even,” I continued softly. “God even knows why, but I do. And it feels like not telling you that would be the biggest mistake in the world.”
Still nothing.
“Hello?” I leant back and tapped his cheek. “Tom? Thomas? Are you with me?”
“No,” he said, blinking slowly. “I think I’m dreaming or something. Say that again.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Say it again,” he whispered, closing the distance between our lips. “Say it properly.”
“I… I…”
“Because I’m in love with you. And I might go absolutely bonkers if I don’t hear you admit it, too.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping his coat so tightly that my fingers hurt.
“Say it,” he teased, keeping his voice light, but his fingers dug into my sides, belying his anxiety.
“I love you. I’m pretty sure.” The words fell from my lips, no louder than a whisper, but they didn’t need to be.
Because to him, I could have screamed them, and it would have been exactly the same.
Thomas laughed, throwing his head back. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Actually, yes. I feel as though I just betrayed nine-year-old me.”
With another laugh, he cradled my head and brushed his lips across the scar on my eyebrow. “Just imagine the stories we’ll have for our kids.”
“Whoa, hold on. I said I love you, not ‘get me pregnant.’ Slow your roll, sir.”
“No can do.” He grinned, touching the tip of his nose to mine. “In my head, I’m already planning our wedding and naming those children. The gardens here are gorgeous in spring. How do you feel about Annabelle? Or maybe Austin for a boy?”
I groaned, dramatically pushing at his chest. “This is what I get for listening to my sister.”
“She told you to do this? Remind me to send her a bigger wedding gift.”
“You’ve given her a free venue; it doesn’t get much bigger than that.”
“I’ll find something.” He grinned, then lowered his lips to mine and let them linger there for a moment. “It’ll be all right.”
“What will be?”
“This. Us.” He touched his forehead to mine, and my eyes fluttered closed. “I know what you’re afraid of, but we’ll work through it together.”
I hesitated, then nodded, accepting the reassuring kiss he brushed over my lips. “For now, can we just… pretend?”
“Pretend what?”
“That I don’t have a whole other life hundreds of miles away that I have to deal with.”
“I’d love nothing more.” He grinned. “Is this the part where you break my heart and tell me you’re leaving me tonight?”
I bit the inside of my lower lip and peered up at him. “Well… it is Christmas Eve.”
He sighed dramatically. “I suppose you’re right. I still have to play Santa for a certain little boy. I promised Mum I’d dust footsteps in front of the fireplace, just like Dad used to do.”
A smile crept across my face. “So, you don’t want me to stay?”
He paused. “Tonight? With me? And wake up with you tomorrow?”
“No, I thought I’d scout the bushes so I could jump out the window and escape at four a.m.”
“Stay.” His eyes flashed with a hint of desperation. “Wake up with me tomorrow. Spend Christmas morning with us.”
“Won’t your mum mind?”
“Are you kidding? The woman told me she’d adopt you if I don’t marry you.” He laughed. “She’d love nothing more.”
“Hmm. Adoption is a tempting alternative.”
“Sylvie.”
I grinned and leant against him, tilting my head back so I could see him. “You said you wanted me as your reward for saving Christmas. I’m all yours.”
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Someone told me it was time to start choosing what I want. Don’t make me regret it.” I tapped my finger against his eyebrow. “Or I’ll give you a matching scar.”
He captured my hand with his and kissed my cold fingers. “Couple scars? Cute.”
“Idiot.”
“You bring it out in me.” He pressed my hand against his cheek, smiling. “You’re cold.”
“It’s minus two degrees and snowing. Of course, I’m cold.”
He kissed my hand again and linked our fingers. “Come on. Let’s go inside before Hazel sends out a search party.”
“Thank you. Sheesh. We could have had this conversation inside.”
“Yes, yes, it’s all my fault.” He flashed a grin over his shoulder. “By the way, isn’t your mum expecting you to be at home tomorrow morning? What is she going to say when you tell her you’re staying here?”
I shrugged. “I’ll pre-warn Nana. She’ll sort it out.”
“Won’t Nana care?”
“Please. She only cares that her pig has her Christmas breakfast. The rest of us are all afterthoughts.” I pulled off my coat and handed it to him with a grin. “I’d much rather wake up with you.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me.”
“You wanted this,” I said, tossing the scarf at him, too. “That’s why they say to be careful what you wish for.”
He held the scarf and smiled at me as warmth filled his gaze. “Oh, I was. I was very careful.”