“Tell me about it,” she said. She didn’t move away.
For a moment, the world shrank. No snow, no rink, no curious onlookers. Just the hush of falling flakes and the soft beat of her heart in time with his. Then Puffcake came over and perched on the bench beside them. He let out a sharp, judgmental hiss.
“Saved by the sugar fairy,” Lachlan muttered, helping her up.
Eliza smiled as they got back on their feet, her fingers still wrapped in his. And as they made another lap around the rink, she didn’t mind the idea of falling.
Lachlan never let go of her hand as she managed to make her way around the rink a third time. Winded, they finally skated over to the edge to join Puffcake, who cheered them on from his designated spot on the bench.
“Best three laps of my life,” Lachlan smiled, his cheeks flushed from the cold.
“And I only fell twice!” Eliza boasted.
Gretel skated over to join them, her lavender strands falling out of her braid. She offered Puffcake one of her roasted pecans.
Hansel joined them a few minutes later carrying two thermoses in his hands. He gracefully skidded to a stop and managed not to spill any of the steaming hot liquid inside. “For your journey home,” he said, handing Lachlan and her each a cup.
Eliza took it between her hands, savoring the warmth. The steam rose to meet her cold skin, and she breathed in the crisp scent of apples. “Hmmm, cider,” she breathed, “Thanks, Hansel.”
Lachlan looked at his mobile, checking the time. “Which reminds me, we need to get going. Don’t wanna be late to the next surprise,” he winked.
The siblings said their goodbyes as Lachlan and Eliza exited the rink and headed toward the stalls to return their skates.
“Twosurprises in one evening?” Eliza asked once they were alone.
Lachlan scooped up her gloved hand so casually, it felt as if he’d been wrapping his hand around hers for longer than just the evening. It was natural and smooth, like muscle memory. “I like you just a little bit, Snow.”
His thumb traced a circle over a spot on her glove, a subtle gesture that sent warmth radiating through her.
“So, what is it?” She worked up enough courage to ask.
“You’ll see. Just follow me.”
Once they reached the town square, Lachlan took an immediate right, heading away from the music and busy streets. Puffcake and Eliza exchanged a glance.
“You do realize the celebration is the other way, right?” Eliza asked, arching a brow. She eyed the snowy, overgrown path ahead that led them back to their cottage.
He gave her a sideways glance and smiled. “Just a little romantic walk in the moonlight, Snow. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
She laughed, falling into step beside him. She couldn’t say she minded that they were headed back to the cottage. She was quite “peopled” out after the day she’d had. “If this is the part where you reveal you’re actually a Christmas serial killer, then I’m haunting you for the rest of your life.”
“That’s fair, I s’pose.” He squeezed her hand. “No murders, I promise.” Lachlan dropped her hand, turned to face her, and swept an arm toward the next surprise behind him.
A single horse with chestnut hair and a silver mane snorted as its harness jingled with every movement. The sleigh attached to him sat expectant in the snow, the thick blanket lay draped over the seat wide enough for only two people.
“You’re joking.” Eliza gaped.
“No jokes, Snow. I take my one-horse open sleigh rides very seriously.” Lachlan grinned as he held out a hand to help her up. “No laughing all the way for us.”
She raised an eyebrow, but her cheeks lifted in a smile as she slid her hand into his. “Ha-ha-ha,” she sang in a jingle.
He helped her up and climbed in beside her, pulling the blanket over their legs. The sleigh lurched forward gently, the bells on the horse’s harness jingled in a soft rhythm as they glided down the trail lined with snow-covered trees.
The stars blinked above them, the air cold and crisp on their faces, but the blanket and Lachlan’s warmth beside her kept the chill at bay. Puffcake, nestled in her lap underneath the blanket, let out a tiny snore and twitched one of his cinnamon wings.
Eliza leaned back, letting the snowflakes melt on her lashes. “You know, for someone who claims to dislike Christmas, you’re alarmingly good at festive gestures.”
“I don’t dislike Christmas. Just couldn’t really find it in me to spend it with my family.” He looked over at her. “Besides, you’ve had a rough year, too. You deserve nice gestures.”
