The Broody Brit for Christmas (Holiday Springs #1) - M.J. Fields Page 0,94
tiptoes on our kitchen counter, grabbing one of those little signs.
She looks back and hands it to me. “Could you take this and grab the whitewashed sign out of the tote?”
Under my breath, I mumble, “Are we finished being thankful and grateful?”
“Sure are.” She laughs as I pull out a new sign and roll my eyes. “Now we’re being Merry and Bright.”
“The eternal optimist.” I hand it up to her. “With your arse in my face, you could convince me of anything, Red. So, Merry and Bright, we shall be.”
She laughs and steps back, falling— “Shiiiiittttt.”
I catch her from behind. “You forget where you were?”
Her face is red with embarrassment as she shakes her head, righting herself. “Guess I did. How was your day?”
“Shhh, shhh, shhhiii,” comes from behind us. We both turn to see Grace grinning.
“Well, that’s just wonderful,” Arthur says from somewhere in the flat. “Grace’s first word is shit.”
“I’d like to say that I’m sorry, but.” I shrug, leaving my sentence hanging purposefully.
“Shii, shii, shii.” Grace bounces up and down in her little buggy, her chubby thighs vibrating.
Nikki laughs. “Let’s work on saying Da Da, Gracie baby.”
Looking around, I see that Nathaniel and Arthur are hanging lights around the railings above us.
I turn back to Nikki. “Have my mum and dad been over?”
She pops a kiss on my cheek. “Not yet” and slides down.
I mumble, “I’m sure they will be at dinnertime.”
“Arthur and Nathaniel are having a great time.”
“I thought we were done being thankful and grateful.”
“It’s snowing. We’re in the middle of the most magical time of the year in the most magical place on earth. You tell me.”
“What I wouldn’t give to set you on the counter and show you instead.”
She grins. “We could ask Nate and Arthur to go to the store?”
“Eggnog or sugar this time?”
The oven timer goes off, and with it, my hope of getting us off.
Fingering my collar, she whispers, “Or we wait until everyone’s asleep.”
Feet bounding down the stairs, Nathaniel’s excitement is evident. “Wait until you taste Nikki’s sticky ribs. They’re the best, Uncle Arthur.”
She scrunches up her nose and smiles. “Let’s eat.”
Knowing Nikki and Nathaniel’s plans for making new traditions have been slightly interrupted due to the British invasion, I’ve planned a surprise.
I’m currently waiting in front of the skating rink on Hawthorne Resort property in which I pushed Beckett to make functional enough for us, the three of us, to skate together.
Nikki and Nathaniel are en route and should be here any moment. She believes that they’re bringing my spare set of keys because I lost them.
Nathaniel knows better.
I see headlights and then the sound of snow crunching beneath the tires, right before they crest the hill.
I exhale a slow and steady breath and watch as my whole world comes toward me.
Nikki parks in front of me, and she and Nathaniel hop out.
She’s wearing the emerald green down jacket I bought her, her neck covered with a cream-colored cashmere scarf that matches her hat, auburn waves cascading down her shoulders. She’s so beautiful.
Laughing, she hurries toward me. “How long have you been standing out here in the cold? You’ll catch pneumonia, and we can’t have that, especially not two days before Christmas.”
Unable to hold back, I wrap my arms around her, lift her up, and kiss her.
Her hands squeeze my shoulders, and she moans softly in response.
I pull back and look at her, Nikki Winterfield, my last forever.
“How did you manage to lose your keys?” She smiles. “You never lose anything.”
When lights from the building illuminate the dark, she looks up.
“He didn’t.” Nate laughs as he leaves the building and runs to her vehicle to turn the engine off.
“What? Then why—”
“It’s not exactly as planned, but what about this family of ours follows a plan? Fate drives this bunch.” I wink.
“We’re skating tonight, Nikki. It’s not Christmas Eve, it is a day earlier, but it’s still going to be one of our traditions.” He grabs her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
She looks at me like I’ve just reached in and touched a part of her heart. She hasn’t a clue what’s coming.
“Go ahead. I’ll follow you two.”
I wait for the reaction I expect, and I am not disappointed.
“Dad!” Nate yells as I walk in. “You got me my own skates, the ones I wanted?”
Nathaniel may not have been raised around the Graham family money, but somehow, he inherited the Graham taste. And by taste, I mean he appreciates the finest things.