“As for Roland, I can answer that.” Morrie held up his phone. “It looks like our favorite tree-loving photographer made a little midnight jaunt into Kings Copse wood. He’s just uploaded a series of time-stamped photos to a dendrophilia website. Here, look—”
“That’s okay.” I shoved the phone away. “I think I’ve seen just enough of Roland dancing skyclad under trees. What about Bertie? Did you find out why he came back to the shop?”
“He reallydidjust collect the tax forms from last quarter. He returned our accounts ledger this morning.” Heathcliff thumped the thick leather-bound book sitting on his brand-new desk. “Apparently, we’re due a significant tax refund. I thought I might use some of it to purchase a permanent supply of Christmas decorations for the shop.”
I grinned. “Or it could go toward a cloud accounting system—”
“Or I could find a new accountant who won’t hassle me about cloud accounting,” Heathcliff shot back.
“Arf!” Buster’s ears flattened. His tiny paws churned as he immediately careened off into the shelves after Grimalkin.
“I’m so glad to see Buster’s doing well,” I grinned.
Instead of answering me, Jonie flung herself at Heathcliff, wrapping her arms around his torso.
“What’s it doing?” Heathcliff demanded, staring down at the child in disbelief.
“I think it likes you,” Morrie said.
“Then it’s a bloody fool.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Heathcliff. I should have come forward and told the truth.” Jonie buried her face in his coat.
“S’okay.” Heathcliff stared at his hands.
“I didn’t mean for everyone to hate you, especially not your friends. I know what it feels like to be rejected by the people you love. I hope you can forgive me.”
Heathcliff patted her head like she was a dog. That was the closest he’d probably be able to get to expressing his affection for Jonie. They really were both quite alike.
Quoth shuffled into the room in his human form, his tentative steps bringing him to Heathcliff. He stared up at his friend with wide eyes, then threw his own arms around Heathcliff’s neck. “I’m sorry, too.”
“It’s okay, birdie.” Heathcliff tried to pry Quoth’s fingers from around his neck, but Quoth was used to hanging on tight.
“I’m not going to miss out on the fun.” Morrie threw himself into the group hug. Grimalkin leaped from the Poetry shelf and sank her claws into Heathcliff’s shoulder. Mum helped Mrs. Ellis to her feet so they could squeeze in. Jonie grabbed Buster from the floor and the two of them joined in, piling on Heathcliff until he was just a stony face in the middle of a huddle of love.
Grinning from ear to ear, I stepped forward and enveloped them all. My three wonderful, wild, crazy, enchanting boyfriends who made every day so special – especially Christmas. My mother, who drove me crazy but who was also amazing. And Mrs. Ellis and Jonie, who had wheeled their way into all our hearts. I couldn’t be happier to be sharing this Christmas with them.
“Who pinched my arse?” Heathcliff growled.
Morrie grinned. “Guilty.”
I laughed. Having all of us together like this – that was whatreallymade Christmas the most wonderful time of the year. The magic of Christmas wasn’t in the food or the carols or the decorations – it was the people.
Although… the food and booze and blazing fire sure helped.
Morrie glanced up, his brow furrowed. “Mina, why is your mother holding a bunch of leaves over my head?”
“It’s mistletoe. She thinks she’s going to push you into proposing to me.” I glared at my mother, who only beamed in return.
“I could propose if you like.” Morrie’s tongue danced across my earlobe. “I propose we drag Heathcliff into that supply cupboard over there, and the two of us can stuff your stocking while you ride us like a reindeer—”
“Morrie!” I slapped his arm. “We’ve got no time for that. It’s almost noon. We’ve got somewhere important to be.”
“That’s right!” Morrie slapped his forehead. “I nearly forgot.”
“I wish you had,” Heathcliff muttered.
A slow, happy smile spread across Quoth’s face as he, too, remembered what I had planned next.
