A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,84
do this tomorrow, but I didn’t want to share it with anyone but family. And you are family now, Holly, you know that.”
“I…you’re all like a miracle to me,” she said, never more sincere. “I can’t believe how easily you all have accepted me and pulled me in. I thought I’d be more freaked out…but it’s like—”
“Home?”
She nodded. “Getting that way.”
“I’m really glad you think so.” He leaned in and kissed her long, and slow, and deep, then lifted his head and whispered, “Happy birthday.” Then he pushed the kitchen door open, and every single member of the Gallagher clan shouted, “Happy birthday!” and launched into the rowdiest version of the song Holly had ever heard.
She stood there, stunned. “But—”
“It’s your birthday,” he said. “It’s your day. We’re just starting a little early.”
He ushered her into the kitchen and she was immediately enveloped by Gallaghers young and old, all smiling and welcoming her with laughs, smiles, and open arms. Sean was right, it wasn’t about blood lines and where you thought you fit in…it was about creating your own family, your own right place.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Naughty but Nice
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
Epilogue
Naughty
but Nice
DONNA
KAUFFMAN
1
“Good Lord, more of the bloody damn things.” A cluster of the silver nuisances jingled and chimed cheerfully as Thomas Griffin Gallagher entered Cups & Cakes, the small bakery and coffee shop on the edge of the town square. He winced at the increased throb in his temples. The American celebration of Thanksgiving was still weeks away, but the town was already riddled with the festive touches of the pending Christmas season. In fact, everywhere he went in the rural little burg of Hamilton, he heard bells ringing. Each and every doorway or archway had one hanging somewhere; men in red suits standing over black kettles clutched at least one or two. Moments ago, when a trundling service truck with the damn things tied to the grille had come within an inch of running him down, they’d almost been the last thing he’d seen on this earth. Ringing and clanging, clanging and ringing.
It was enough to drive a bloke bloody, raving starkers.
The rich scent of coffee beans filled his senses, and the jangling bells went mercifully ignored as he shut the door behind him. He’d arrived in Virginia from Dublin two weeks ago, but the nagging headache wasn’t due to prolonged jet lag. His arrival in the village proper that morning was the next critical step in his mission ... and not likely to do anything to help the throbbing in his temples.
It was why he was in a cupcake shop—to gird himself with a bit of freshly ground armor. He took a moment to breathe in the most heavenly of scents and thought about that morning, almost one year ago, when he’d been informed by his Gallagher cousin, Sean, that the only Irish in him came from his mum, who’d been a Houlihan before marrying his father. Otherwise, he was a red-blooded American. It had explained many things, possibly among them the reason why he’d always preferred the rich, dark taste of coffee over tea. In fact, he could feel the pinch of the headache he’d woken up with already receding, just from the scent alone.
He walked up to the short tidy counter. Given the typical Yank’s apparent addiction to the stuff, he was surprised that he’d yet to find anything comparable there. After mentioning as much to the owner of the rustic inn where he was staying, just on the outskirts of town, he’d been guided to this quaint little shop. Posh hotels were more typically his style those days, but the closest one to Hamilton was several hours away in Charlottesville. He supposed there were some who found the cozy, rural setting something of a respite from their usual hectic pace of life. Griffin, on the other hand, would have given anything for room service and a decent concierge.
However, if the coffee tasted half as good as it smelled, he’d have to thank Mrs. Crossley, the innkeeper, the next time they crossed paths. It hadn’t been often of late, given the hours he’d been keeping since his arrival. One cup, then he’d brace himself for a day of trying to explain to the fine citizens of Hamilton how his ideas on globalizing the town’s potential would revolutionize their little world. His plans were going to improve the quality of living for every man,