The ride back to the cabin was quiet and Lucy wasn’t sure if she was grateful or disappointed. Were they going to talk about it? At all?
Her hand in his, they’d looked at each other across the table for much longer than would ordinarily be comfortable. But then they finished their drinks and went back to the slopes as though it had never happened.
After skiing two more green runs, Will had tried to convince her to try a blue, but she’d hesitated. “I’ve possibly had the most perfect first day of skiing ever.” She had even mastered the steep part where she’d fallen the first time and had made it all the way to the bottom without falling—twice. “I don’t want it to go all pear-shaped because I got ahead of myself.”
“You’re doing great, though. You could totally handle a blue run. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
Lucy doubted that very much. As far as she was concerned, she had got lucky—perfect conditions and an excellent teacher. It was unlikely the day would be enhanced by snowploughing her way down a terrifying blue run, just to say she’d done it. She’d already overcome a massive fear just by letting Will teach her.
They had “compromised” by doing exactly what Lucy wanted to do—once more down the mountain on a green slope that they hadn’t yet skied, one that wove in and out of the forest. It had been brilliant and her favourite run of the day. There were only a few other skiers about, and it was so peaceful amongst the trees, the sluicing of their skis through the snow the only sound.
She looked across the car, knowing she had to say something. The silence was becoming a thing. “Will?”
“Mmm?” he said, glancing at her.
“Thank you for today.”
“Oh, no problem. I had fun.”
During which part? Lucy wondered. “I did too, actually.”
He chuckled. “You sound surprised.”
“Well, you must have realised I wasn’t particularly keen on going in the first place?” Understatement of the century.
“I thought you were just a little nervous, that’s all.”
“Quite frankly, I was terrified.”
His chuckle turned into a chortle. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I was being polite!” The chortle morphed into a full-blown bellow of a laugh and Lucy joined in at her own expense.
Many moments later, she gasped, “I can’t breathe.” How was Will managing to keep the car on the road? He was laughing so hard he was barely making any noise.
They each regained their composure with a series of audible sighs, Lucy with her hand clutched to her chest, and Will saying, “Oh, my god,” on repeat.
By the time they pulled up at the cabin, they were both breathing normally again. They shared a smile across the car and before she knew what was happening, Will leant across and kissed her on the mouth—hard and fast, a smack of a kiss, almost like he was staking a claim.
His eyes danced with playfulness as he retreated, and Lucy didn’t even mind that he seemed a little cocky. She couldn’t remember ever being kissed like that before. She didn’t go out with men much and if she did, they were usually far less sure of themselves than Will. All that, “May I kiss you?” nonsense. “Just kiss me!” she would scream inside her head.
This, with Will … this was different. But what in the world was going on?
There was no time to ponder this question because right after Will kissed her, the front door of the cabin flew open and a very pretty young blonde woman ran out, her long hair streaming behind her. She reminded Lucy of Jules except she was squealing so loudly—something Jules would never do—that Lucy could hear her from inside the car.
“Oh, hey, they made it!” Will opened the car door. “Come on. You’re about to meet the rowdy side of the family.”
*
“Rowdy” did not even begin to describe Aunt Jackie, Uncle Bob, and their three children—all (nearly) grown—Briony, Bridget, and Bradley. Someone clearly had a thing for Celtic “B” names.
Within moments of being inside, Lucy had been embraced so many times, the names and faces had blurred into one and the loud voices echoing in the cavernous foyer were hurting her ears. After a day of skiing, all she wanted was to stand under the shower, have something to eat, then go to bed. With Will. The last thought popped into her mind unbidden and she felt herself flush.
She watched how he was with his family. His charm seemed to come easily, and she could tell that all three of his younger cousins were somewhat starstruck by him. Bradley was the youngest at sixteen. He looked a lot like Will, only he had yet to grow into his height; he was all limbs and a little awkward. Like me, Lucy thought.
The cousin who had squealed her way out to the car was the eldest, Briony. She was a senior in college and couldn’t stop remarking on how beautiful Lucy’s hair was—Lucy’s long mass of curls that drove her mental on a semi-regular basis.
Uncle Bob was a bear of a man with a smiley face and cheeks so rosy, Lucy couldn’t help but think he looked like a middle-aged Father Christmas. He’d retreated to the kitchen after greeting her with a hug, right as Will was introducing the middle sibling, Bridget.
She was eighteen and about to start her final semester of high school. Unlike her mother, her aunt, her sister, and her cousin, Jules, Bridget was not tall, willowy, and blonde. She was of average height and solid build with brown hair pulled into a simple plait down her back. She seemed quieter than the rest, shy even, and Lucy liked her immediately.
Aunt Jackie looked almost exactly like her twin, Steph, but Lucy could tell right away that they were chalk and cheese. She was brash and effusive and said the sorts of things other people would retain as thoughts. When she turned her attention on Lucy, it was to say something so inappropriate, Lucy wished the floor would swallow her whole.
“Oh, aren’t you absolutely stunning?” Jackie took Lucy’s hands in hers and regarded her appraisingly, like a prize mare. “And look at the two of you together …” What? No. “You were obviously made for each other.” Please, please shut up. “Oh, you absolutely must have babies together.” Oh god. “Steph, my goodness!” she shouted. “Can you imagine the grandbabies these two would give you?”
“Mom!” Bridget’s rebuke was muffled by the rushing of blood in Lucy’s ears. She couldn’t remember ever being so horrifyingly embarrassed.
“Aunt Jackie, you have seriously got your wires crossed.” The sound of Will’s voice broke the spell and Lucy took a calming breath. “Lucy is Jules’s best friend. You know, from England?”
There was a beat of silence—welcomed silence—and Lucy waited for the penny to drop, which it finally did.
“Ooohhh, right. I forgot. That’s my mistake. I’m so sorry.” Briony seemed to take this as her cue, shaking her head at her mother as she left the foyer. Jackie gave Lucy an apologetic smile, which Lucy returned, even though she was furious with this … this … woman. She was clearly one of those people who went about saying whatever she wanted without any thought of how it would affect others.
“You must think I’m a total idiot. I am so, so sorry,” Jackie added. Lucy could see she’d begun a serious bout of self-flagellation. It was somewhat disarming and Lucy found herself in the odd position of reassuring her.
“It was an honest mistake.” If you don’t count the part about having grandbabies, which you should never, ever say to anyone unless they are about to give birth to said grandbaby. Bridget caught Lucy’s eye and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” Lucy flattened her mouth into a not-quite smile. It wasn’t Bridget’s fault.
Steph entered the already brimming foyer. “Jackie! What on earth? You’ve been here, what, five minutes and you’ve already stuck your foot in it? Did you say something about grandbabies? To Lucy?”
“I might have.” The sisters shared a look. Steph’s said, “What the hell?” and Jackie’s was accompanied by a guilty shrug. A bubble of a snigger formed in Lucy’s stomach.
Steph shook her head at her sister. “Hon, Lucy’s our guest and you keep this up, she’s gonna get on a plane right back to England.”
“I know, I know. I just got excited. I thought Will had finally brought home a girl for Christmas.” Lucy heard Will groan behind her, and the snigger escaped. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to contain the breathy laugh.
The two sisters were still bantering when Will leant in to ask, “Is that at my expense?” She shook her head, then it changed directions into a nod. She laughed harder. The whole thing was just so absurd. She felt the shake of Will’s laugh against her back before she heard it.
Steph and Jackie stopped talking and looked at them, Steph’s eyes narrowing, before a smile spread across her face. “Okay you two, go get cleaned up for dinner.”
Without another word, Lucy and Will ran up the stairs like naughty school children. When they reached Lucy’s door, she had to lean against the frame because she was laughing so hard. Will made the “shush” sign with his hand, failing to stifle his own laugh. He pulled her into the room and closed the door. She straightened and sighed repeatedly to try and catch her breath, one hand fanning her face, the other planted on her chest.
She hadn’t laughed this hard in ages—first in the car and then at the Aunt Jackie debacle. Her stomach muscles were going to hurt in the morning.
Will blew out a long breath. “So, now you’ve met Aunt Jackie.”
She grinned and the laugh threatened to reappear. She quashed it with another breath. “Yes, yes, I have. I do think you downplayed what that experience was going to be like.”
“I’m sorry you were embarrassed.” He stepped forward and snaked his arms around her waist as though he’d done it a hundred times before. Lucy settled into the embrace, her hands resting on his forearms, a tiny part of her mind realising how wonderfully normal it felt to be there.
“She embarrassed you as well. Have you really never brought a girl home for Christmas?”
He shook his head. “There’s never been anyone I wanted to bring.”
“Actually,” a frown settled on her face, “come to think of it, I haven’t either.”
“You’ve never brought a girl home to meet the parents,” he teased.
She tutted. “You know what I mean.”
He nodded, his eyes roaming over her face. “She was right about something, you know, Aunt Jackie. You are stunning.”
Lucy gulped. Coming from Will, she could almost believe it. The corners of his mouth flickered into a slight smile and he licked his lips, just like he had on the snow. Lucy wasn’t letting the moment slip away this time. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. When she pulled back, there was what she could only describe as delight on his face, and he leant down and kissed her again, pulling her closer as her hands reached for the back of his neck, her fingers entwining in that glorious blond hair.
They were late to dinner.
*
“Popcorn or paper chains?” Will asked.
“Um, popcorn, I think,” Lucy replied.
The whole family was assembled in the living room to decorate the tree, a rather scraggly specimen that Bob and Nate had chopped down and dragged inside earlier that day. It was at least twelve feet tall and Lucy wondered how in the world they were going to reach the top to put the angel on—if there even was an angel. It seemed like the only decorations would be those they were going to make.
Bing Crosby was singing, the fireplace was on, and there were six giant bowls of popcorn scattered about the room, with people eating as much as they were stringing—maybe more. The family sat in twos and threes, chatting while they strung the popcorn and glued strips of red and green paper together, as though they were in some kind of holiday nursery class.
Before she sat down, Lucy helped herself to a handful of green and red M&Ms from the ceramic dish in the centre of the coffee table, eating them one at a time, sucking on each until it dissolved in her mouth. Nate was doing the rounds with mugs of his boozy hot chocolate, and Lucy’s was on the table in front of her while she waited for it to cool.
And even though this wasn’t her family and she’d never actually had Christmas with so many people before, Lucy felt like she belonged. She was sure Will had something to do with that.
She popped the last M&M into her mouth as Will handed her a large sewing needle threaded with a long piece of thick cotton. She tied a knot in the end and speared the piece of popcorn she’d taken from the bowl next to her. It broke and she frowned at it.
Will, now armed with his own needle and thread, sat on her other side, close enough for his thigh to press against hers. As though she were fifteen and not a grown woman, she found herself wondering if people could tell that they’d kissed. Steph probably knew, she realised. She seemed like the type of person who would notice the tell-tale signs, like two thighs pressing together.
Still, nothing could be as embarrassing as what had happened with Jackie.
“The secret is to hold the needle perpendicular to the surface of the popcorn and press slowly.” Will demonstrated. “Then you gently pull the popcorn down to the end of the thread.” He held his up. “See?”
“Right.” Lucy was not going to be beaten by a piece of popcorn. She tried again and the second one broke. “Third time lucky,” she said gearing up to spear another piece. Broken.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so bad at this.”
Her giggle came easily, which surprised her. Maybe the ordeal with Jackie had inoculated her against any further embarrassment. She hoped so. Sometimes it was exhausting worrying about what other people thought all the time.
“Paper chains,” she declared, as though she was answering his question for the first time. In the end, she was happy just to sip her hot chocolate and watch the bustle around her, humming along to the music. When the first chains and strings of popcorn were finished, Bridget and Briony took charge of draping them on the tree. An hour or so later, the bottom half of the tree looked quite festive.
“Um, everyone,” Lucy called out above Bing and the hubbub of conversation. Everyone stopped talking and listened, their fingers still stringing and gluing. “Two things. One, I’ve just remembered that I’ve got my mum’s Christmas cake upstairs. I’d completely forgotten, but it’s lovely and I’m going up to get it now so you can all have some. And two. I think we need to do something about the tree.”
All eyes flew to the tree. “The top half is naked, and I’m afraid that won’t do.” This was possibly the longest Lucy had spoken in front of a group of people who didn’t report to her and she tried to count exactly how many hot chocolates she’d had. Was it three or four?
In any case, it didn’t matter because she was having a lovely time. “Right. I shall go and get the cake.” She stood, a little unsteady on her feet.
In an instant, Will was by her side. “I’ll help.”
“Brilliant.”
*
“Will?” Lucy was on her knees rummaging through her carry-on. Had she already taken the cake out?
“Mmm?”
“I am quite drunk.”
He kneeled next to her. “I gathered as much.”
She stopped looking for the cake. “Are you drunk?”
“No. A little buzzed, but not drunk.”
She sighed and dropped her head to the side. “Will?”
He smiled at her and tucked a wayward curl behind her left ear. “Yes?”
“I quite fancy you, you know?”
“I do know, yes.”
“A lot. Even though you’re Jules’s baby brother and … she won’t be cross with me, will she?”
“No, of course not. Hey, look, it’s late and …”
“And I’m drunk.”
“Right, so maybe, do you want to just go to bed?”
“I definitely want to go to bed with you.” Good lord. Had she really just said that? She shook her head to clear it. “Sorry. That was …” She put her head in her hands. “Oh, Will. I’m very, very drunk.”
“Come on, let’s get you ready for bed.”
It was the last thing Lucy remembered before she was woken by her phone.