“That’s because I wasn’t. It’s time for peace on earth, Granny. Or at least, peace in this living room.” Rosie was tempted tograb one of the Christmas stockings hanging near the fire and tie it over her grandmother’s mouth.
“I used to tell her, there is more than one way of being smart,” her grandmother said. “Some people are quick with numbers, some people are good with words, and others are creative. That’s Rosie.”
“Okay, Granny. Enough.” She threaded the needle and settled the dress on her lap.
“She was the prettiest dancer. If she hadn’t grown those extra few inches, I swear she’d be the talk of the ballet world by now. Have you seen her dance, Declan?”
Only after several glasses of wine, Rosie thought. She caught Declan’s eye and saw a glimmer of laughter there. He knew how uncomfortable she was.
“She’s a great dancer,” he said, the look in his eyes suggesting he was remembering the same evening she was, when she’d danced around their living room, removing her clothes layer by layer.
That memory connected them, and for a moment their tensions evaporated and the invisible barrier between them melted away.
He held her gaze and if there hadn’t been other people in the room she would have gone to him then, curled up on his lap and pressed her mouth to his. It would have been okay. Everything would have been okay. She felt as if a few well-placed stitches would pull together whatever rift had appeared. All they needed was some time together.
“You’re not concentrating,” her grandmother said. “You’re going to stab yourself with that needle, and I don’t want blood on my dress.”
She’d been looking at Declan, thinking of how it felt when he kissed her. No one kissed the way Declan did. No one had made her feel the way he did.
Her stomach flipped and she saw his eyes narrow as he registered the look in her eyes.
She cleared her throat.
“That’s what happens when you embarrass me, Granny.” She focused on the dress on her lap, mending it carefully. Given that her grandmother was her biggest supporter, she didn’t want to ruin her dress. Also there was the matter of personal pride.
Her stitches were tiny, her work accurate, but she could feel Declan’s gaze on her and the whole thing took far longer than it should have done.
“There.” She handed it back to her grandmother and closed her mother’s sewing box. “Good as new.”
“Thank you. I can’t wait for tonight when I can wear it.”
Rosie smiled. “It will be fun.”
Percy sprang from the sofa, barking, and Rosie winced as his tail smacked her in the face.
“Great. Thanks, Percy. Now I’ll have a black eye for the party.”
“He heard a car.” Jamie stood up and walked to the window. “It’s Will and Becky. They’re here! Now Christmas can really begin. I can’t wait to introduce you to Becky, Hayley. She’s great. I’m looking forward to catching up with her properly.”
“Me too. We’ve hardly seen her this year.” Declan put his book down and stood up. “I’ll see if I can help with luggage.”
He’d barely spoken this morning but now her sister was here he was on his feet and heading to the door, showing almost as much enthusiasm as Percy.
And just like that, the fragile thread that had briefly connected them snapped again.
Jamie followed him out of the room and Rosie stood up and gave herself a stern talking-to.
She was imagining things. Just because they’d hit a rough patch didn’t mean Declan was regretting marrying her. And it certainly didn’t mean he would have preferred to be with Becky.
She was about to follow her brother and Declan out of the room when she noticed Hayley perched on the edge of the sofa as if she didn’t know whether to follow everyone or stay out of the way.
Rosie glanced at the door but Jamie had walked off with Declan.
Men!Why were they so clueless? It didn’t seem to have occurred to Jamie that Hayley might feel awkward and self-conscious.
“This must be a bit overwhelming for you,” she said. “You’re meeting someone new every few minutes. Exhausting.”
Hayley gave an awkward smile. “I want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what that is. Like now, for instance. Do I stay out of the way, or do I help unload the car? I don’t want to get in the way and I don’t want to be rude. Advice welcome.”
