CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – THOMAS #2
I pushed open the door, revealing the Christmas wonderland that lay behind it.
The lights were off, and the only illumination came from the twinkling of the fairy lights on the tree and garlands.
It gave the room a magical glow, especially when they flashed and bounced off the baubles and whatever else sparkly, reflective bits my mother had seen fit to decorate with.
Danny’s gasp bounced off the walls, and he released Sylvie right before sprinting over to the tree and dropping to his knees in front of the presents. “He came! Santa came!”
“Wow!” Zara knelt next to him on the floor. “Is all this for you? Goodness!”
Thomas slipped his arm around my waist with a smile. “It seems like you really were good this year, Danny.”
“Footsprints!” he yelled, pointing at the mess I’d made of the living room.
Sylvie jerked and almost choked on her coffee.
“Footsprints! Nanny, look!”
Mum smiled warmly, pressing her hand to her chest. “Oh, he’s made a right mess of my rug, hasn’t he?”
Danny tilted his head to the side. “Is that why you’re crying? It’s okay, Nanny. We can clean it up.”
“Yes, that’s it, love,” Mum said, wiping a tear away from her cheek. “Naughty Santa has made a big mess!”
He giggled, pressing his hands to his face. “Don’t worry. We’ll clean it up after presents, okay? Come on, there’s a stocking for you!” He pulled her over to the fireplace where the stockings were hung, and I frowned.
“There are six,” I said. “Why are there six?”
Mum smiled. “One is Sylvie’s, of course. Santa knew she was here.”
“Santa knows everything,” Danny said wisely. “That’s why I tidied my room. Uncle Tommy, this one is yours.”
“Um,” Sylvie whispered, grabbing my arm.
“Just sit,” I whispered back, pushing her down.
“Your grandmother,” Mum murmured as Danny busied himself distributing the stockings.
Zara and Beth switched when he wasn’t looking.
“Nana?” Sylvie asked.
“Yes,” Mum continued as Danny tore into his stocking. “She said she had a feeling you wouldn’t be home this morning, so she packed it in her suitcase.”
Sylvie sputtered out a laugh, and when I turned, I saw her holding a pack of condoms.
“Well,” Mum said brightly. “I suppose they’ll come in useful.”
***
“I think I’ve changed my mind,” Sylvie said, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Maybe we don’t see where this goes. Our families together are a bit much.”
“A bit much? No, this is perfectly fine.”
“Tom, you’re sitting there in a Grinch onesie with a miniature pig in a plaid jumper.”
“As I said, this is perfectly fine.” I looked down at Beatrix Trotter who was happily sleeping on my lap. “She’s surprisingly warm.”
“I’m surprised your mother let her in the house.”
“It’s Christmas.” I shrugged. “She’s surprisingly lenient… unless the pig is trying to eat her trees, of course.”
A tragedy we’d had to prevent more than once today.
“And what’s wrong with my onesie? It’s warm and cosy.”
She looked at the pig. “Evidently. Beatrix won’t leave you alone.”
“Are you jealous of a miniature pig right now?”
“No. I’m exhausted with having to share my life with a pig. Did you know she’s been sleeping in my bedroom ever since I started staying here?”
“She does seem to like your room.” I looked down at Beatrix. “She’s not that bad, really.”
“She poops in my bed. She goes on her jollies in snowstorms. I had to share my Yorkshire pudding with her at dinner!” Sylvie huffed, shooting a glare at the pig. “And now she’s stealing my man.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Your man, huh?”
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. I was just hoping you’d say it again.”
“Keep hoping.”
I picked up the pig, put her on the blanket next to me, and swapped to the other sofa. I sat down next to Sylvie and grabbed her legs, swinging them over mine. I wrapped my arms around her and held her against me with a grin.
“What about now?” I asked.
Her lips twitched. “Wow. You actually dumped the pig for me.” She plucked a bit of lint from my front. “You’re right. The stupid onesie is cosy.”
“Mhmm.” I dotted kisses down her cheek towards her jaw, and she tilted her head as her fingers curled into the fluff of my onesie. “Next year, you’ll have to dress up as Martha May, and we’ll hold a Christmas costume party.”
She grabbed my chin and stared at me. “If you’re going to suggest that the pig be Cindy Lou Who, I’m breaking up with you right now.”
I mimed zipping my lips and kissed her, swallowing her laugh. “I would never. She can be Max.”
A laugh burst out of her, and she pressed her hand over my mouth, forcing space between us. “You’re insane.”
I licked her palm so she’d yank her hand away. “What? You don’t plan on being here next Christmas?”
“No, I…” She paused. “I’m not organising the damn party, though.”
My smile reflected the happiness that tingled through my body.
All day, I’d been wondering if this really was the dream I’d woken up thinking it was.
That Christmas would be over, and Sylvie would change her mind.
She’d say she was wrong, that she didn’t share my feelings, that everything I’d done had been for naught.
But she wasn’t.
She was sitting here, planning, actively talking about next Christmas before this one was even over.
She was running with a stupid quip that I’d have to follow through on.
She was making and agreeing plans for a future that was still uncertain, that was something we’d have to work hard for because of the distance that would come between us.
It didn’t matter, though.
Not to me.
Because if I was honest with myself, I might have fallen in love with her almost as soon as I saw her again.
God only knew she’d occupied my every thought since that moment.
Her auburn hair, her light blue eyes, her beamingly bright smile…
They’d consumed me, body and soul, ever since I laid eyes on her.
Even if the smile had taken a little longer to get a peek at.
“We’ll be okay, you know.” I brushed some hair from her face, letting my fingers gently trail across her skin. “This time next year, we’ll be sitting here wondering what we were ever worried about.”
“It’s more than a year. I’m booked out for two years. My newest wedding is two and a half years away. That’s a long time.”
“It’s worth it.” I slipped my fingers into her hair, and she turned her face into my palm. “I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t want to. I won’t even ask you to move back here. I want you to do what you want to do, Sylvie.”
“Ah…” Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at me. “I spoke to your mum earlier. She loved helping organise the wedding at the end, and she’s going to talk to you about hosting events again.”
“I thought she would. She really did used to adore it.”
“Well, she asked me if I would ever consider moving back to Castleton and working with her. On weddings. Here.”
I paused.
“She didn’t pressure me at all.” She covered my hand with hers. “She just mentioned it… I think to let me know that there’s always a home here for me. That… moving back to Castleton to settle down doesn’t necessarily mean having to give up everything I’ve worked for.”
Good old Mum.
She was always one step ahead of everyone else.
“And that’s a decision for you to make when you’re ready to.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “For now, you have commitments you can’t walk away from. When you need a break, there’s a place for you here, or I can come to you. We can even go somewhere.”
“What is this? I send you my schedule so I can pencil you in?” A cheeky grin flashed across her face.
“Exactly that.” I grabbed her wrist and playfully nibbled the side of her thumb. “How else am I going to tear you away from needy brides and nightmare in laws?”
“Hmm, I suppose we can make that work.” She curled into me, resting her head on my shoulder. “So, I’ll come back for Christmas next year. I know I have a huge wedding on my birthday weekend, but I only accepted that because it’s in Corfu. Why don’t you… come with me?”
“Are you inviting me on holiday, miss?”
“I plan on staying for a week after, and I can always add you to the room… You just have to get yourself there.”
“Done and done.”
“You didn’t ask when it was! How can you just say yes?”
“You said it was your birthday. I know when your birthday is.” I settled in with her, circling my arms around her body.
“Besides, Zara is still sniffing around with her nose halfway up my arse. She’ll do anything to get back in my good books, so I can take off when I want and leave her to run things here with the businesses. ”
Sylvie paused. “Are you really still angry with her?”
“I’m not angry. We talked it through. That doesn’t mean I’m going to let her off easily, though. She makes a lot of stupid decisions for someone so smart—”
“Hey, sounds like Hazel.”
I chuckled. “—And I want her to really think things through before she commits. Right now, she needs to spend some time working on herself and her marriage.”
“In other words, she knows there’s a job waiting for her, you’re just making sure she takes care of herself and her family before you make her work hard again.”
I wrinkled up my nose. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yeah. Older sibling syndrome.” Sylvie snorted and tilted her head back to peer up at me. “You weren’t fooling anyone, least of all me.”
“Why? Do you know me that well?”
“No, you’re just terribly predictable.”
“Oh, yeah?” I shifted my body over hers and tugged her down, trapping her beneath me on the sofa.
She laughed the whole time, looping her arms around my neck, and then smiled up at me. “You got me. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Good.” I lowered my head and touched my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. She teased me, flicking her tongue against the seam of my lips, and I responded in kind, savouring the taste of her.
“Ewww! Uncle Tommy and Auntie Sylvie are kissing!” Danny yelled
We broke apart, and I sighed, resting my head on the sofa while Sylvie laughed.
“Get off my granddaughter,” Nana said, sniffling from the doorway.
I turned and couldn’t help my chuckle at her covering Danny’s eyes. “I apologise.”
“Don’t. You can get back on her later, but we’re about to play Monopoly,” Nana said, directing Danny towards the other room. “There’s also a cracking bottle of wine your mother has pulled out of the cellar, and I need Sylvie to distract her grandfather while I get drunk.”
“Monopoly?” Sylvie looked over at her. “Nana, the last time we played Monopoly, you gave yourself a papercut and almost threw your little figurine at me.”
“Oh, it’s Christmas, this is no time to hold a grudge.” She clapped her hands together. “Come on, chop chop. You can be lovers later. For now, we need to make sure everyone else gets so drunk they can’t beat me at Cluedo later.”
Neither of us moved.
“Thomas Castleton, get off my granddaughter before I forbid you from marrying her.”
I jumped right up like she’d lit a firework up my arse. “What’s the wine you’re on about, Nana? Come on. I know all the good ones.”
“Arse-licker,” she muttered, eyeing me doubtfully. “But, if you insist…”
I looped her arm through mine and looked back at Sylvie with a wink. She sat up on the sofa, hair mussed, cheeks a little pink, and smiled.
And, God.
If every Christmas from now on would be like this, it might just become my favourite season after all.