They walked until there was no more to see and then began the trek back to Baslow where they’d left their car.
They ducked into a small café with steamed-up windows and a chalkboard sign promisingthe best mac and cheese in Derbyshire, and both girls wanted the macaroni and cheese while Rhys ordered the roast beef sandwich.
Conversation lagged, not from upset, but from the kind of tiredness that settled in after a long, cold, busy day.
*
Cat had remainedupstairs when everyone left earlier for Baslow and was still upstairs when the Harmons returned.She sat cross-legged on her bed, listening to Rhys finish the chapter he’d been reading tonight, glad he was building those new traditions and memories he’d wanted for the girls.Somehow, the story of the Pevensie children stepping through the wardrobe, leaving the familiar world behind, lost at first, overwhelmed, searching for something to hold on to, fit this cottage Christmas.
While Lucy and Susan, Edmund and Peter searched for the things they’d left behind, the Harmon girls were searching too—only not through a snowy wood, but through the days of December, hoping something would make everything feel right again and things were slowly coming together for them, for Rhys and his children.Cat might have her own heartache, but at least she knew she’d done what was right for the girls.They needed to feel safe.They needed to feel secure.And hopefully by Christmas they would.
*
Rhys couldn’t fallasleep, despite his best efforts to turn off his brain and just relax.It wasn’t his work keeping him up tonight or worries about his girls.Tonight, it was guilt over leaving Cat behind when they went to Baslow, and guilt over being frostier and more detached.He didn’t like the distance between them, but he didn’t know how else to handle his emotions… the attraction.
He gave up on sleep just after midnight.No point lying there, staring at the ceiling, thinking about everything he couldn’t fix, everything he wanted, and everything he shouldn’t want.He might as well read or work.Or make some tea.Anything that might possibly distract him.
He tugged on a heavy sweatshirt and stepped into warm slippers before heading down, the stairs in the middle creaking as they always did.But at the foot of the steps, he saw into the sitting room and stopped.
Cat sat on the floor directly in front of the fire, wrapped in the heavy quilt from her bed, her dark hair loose, gleaming with highlights from the embers.
He knew she must have heard him on the stairs, but she didn’t turn.“You can’t sleep either?”he asked, stopping behind the sofa.
“No.”Her voice was so soft it was barely audible.“Too much on my mind.”
He rested his hand on the couch.“Want to talk to me?”
She turned her head just enough to give him her profile.Firelight brushed her cheek, the line of her jaw, the curve of her mouth.She looked breakable, but also… resolved.
“It won’t change anything.”
Her voice was husky and thick with something he couldn’t name.Before he thought to question it, he went to her and sat on the floor beside her, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, close enough he could feel her warmth through the quilt.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.He reached for her hand.She hesitated only for a moment before letting him take it, her fingers curling into his.
“Are you unhappy here?”he asked, aware that he could hear the worry in his voice, the fear he hadn’t been able to name.
She drew in a tremulous breath.Tears shimmered instantly, catching the light.“No.”
Her voice broke.“Just the opposite.”
He turned his head to better see her face, but she kept her gaze on the fire.
“I love being here… with you, with the girls.It’s—” She swallowed hard.“It’s like a fairytale, Rhys.But it’s not mine.I don’t belong here.”
“You do.”It came out rough, immediate.
She shook her head, eyes glistening.“I’m a temporary childminder.A stopgap until Charlotte returns from holiday and the girls start back to school.Then I’ll leave.It’s how it’s meant to be, but I’ll remember this.All of it.”She finally looked at him, really looked at him, tears pooling but not falling.“I haven’t felt like this in maybe forever, and I’m grateful.I guess that’s what I want to say.I’m grateful.”
Something inside him—something tired and starved and aching—gave way.
He slid his hand behind her neck, beneath the cool weight of her hair, and drew her toward him.Her breath caught but he felt no resistance, just the tension and awareness that had been there between them since the beginning.Then his mouth was on hers, and the kiss wasn’t careful or cautious.It was everything he’d been holding back—need, longing, relief, the fierce desire to keep her close for just one moment longer.
She made a soft sound against his mouth, surprise melting into need, and then she was kissing him back, her hands clutching at his sweatshirt, answering his hunger with her own.
Heat surged through him, fierce and consuming, but beneath it beat something deeper—a need for closeness, comfort, and the connection he’d denied himself for years.But this need couldn’t be met by just anyone.This was about Cat, his need and desire for her, and only her.
Rhys gentled the kiss, slowing it, deepening it, until she was on his lap, facing him, her body pressed fully to his, fitting him as if she’d been meant for him from the beginning.It made him want all of her, the rest of her.But not here.Not now.Not like this.
