‘Only if you tell me what you’re wearing underneath your kilt.’Holly Driver, you are a brazen hussy, and you’ve hardly even had a drop of wine.But I don’t care. It’s the end of the old me and the start of the new.
And by the way, Bailey takes my hand and slides it slowly up his thigh—it’s not quiche he’s trying to interest me in.
At ten to midnight, we’re munching away hungrily on the spread, having worked up a bit of an appetite.
‘Thanks for doing so much food,’ I say, taking a large bite of a mini pizza. ‘Carrot sticks and hummus wouldn’t have cut it.’
‘My pleasure. Or, should I say,yours,’ says Bailey with a wicked glint in his eye.
I give him a nudge. ‘It’s not my fault you showed up in a kilt. What did you expect?’
He chuckles. ‘Well, I was wearing it for the dinner service, and I hoped you mightbe turned on by it. I didn’t think it would work that well, though.’
I smooth my hair, which has frizzed from our frenzied make-out session on the couch. This has been quite the turn of events. ‘I think if you were wearing a reindeer onesie, I still would’ve flung myself on you,’ I say, blushing.
Bailey smiles and dunks a piece of bread into some dip. ‘So I take it we’re “real dating” now?’
‘Yes, if you really want me,’ I say, feeling uncertain again and needing his reassurance. He takes my hand and kisses it.
‘I want you. I pretty much knew when I first saw you that I wanted you. Even though you hated my guts.’
I stifle a laugh. ‘I didn’t! Well, maybe a bit. How was I to know plonking a Santa hat on my head was you trying to make a move?’
‘Hmm, let’s forget that, how do you feel about me now?’ Bailey asks before taking a bite of his bread.
That’s easy. ‘I wanted you from the moment you climbed through the window of that shitty guest house in Inverness. I just didn’t know how to ask for it in case ... in case I’m not what you’re looking for.’
Bailey looks at me enquiringly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean—to put it bluntly—I’m fucked up.’
‘We’re all fucked up,’ he says, softly rubbing his thumb across the back of my hand. I stare at the castle, feeling cold all of a sudden despite the heat from the lamps.
‘Some of us more than others.’
‘You’re not your foster family.’
‘No, but you’ll have to meet them at some point. You might want to get out now while you have the chance.’
Bailey laughs. ‘How bad can they be?’
I shrug. ‘I guess you’ll find out.’
Before he can ask me any probing questions about that, there’s a boom, and a series of explosions burst over our heads. Bailey checks his watch. ‘Shit, I was meant to count down. It’s midnight!’
He pops the champagne; and I stare upwards, mesmerised as the sky rains green, red, and blue stars. I feel happy, hopeful, and absolutely stuffed to the gills from eating five mini pizzas.
I look round to find Bailey gazing at me, the lights from the fireworks reflecting in his eyes. I brush his hair from his forehead and kiss him gently on the lips. ‘Happy New Year. Here’s looking to the future and not the past.’
He nods and hands me a slim glass of golden fizz. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
With our glasses of champers, we snuggle up on the couch under the fluffy throw to watch the rest of the fireworks. It’s pure bliss.
‘So you’ll still want me even if I’m in grinch mode?’ I joke. ‘It’s not always going to be champagne and fireworks, you know.’
‘I can handle Unjolly Holly and her climate change rants.’
I stiffen under the throw. ‘How do you know about that?’
