I hesitate for a beat before rocking up from my back to my bum, a sheepish smile playing on my lips. ‘I was just checking beneath the bed for any elves.’
Phoebe reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me onto the bed beside her. ‘It’s okay. I wanted a second mammy to live with us. And mams and dads share a room, right?’ Grey eyes glint with glee, darting between Cillian and me.
‘Some mammies and daddies do.’ Cillian replies, sounding way calmer than I feel. It’s too soon for her to see this, for her to even know these things, but she seems ecstatic about the situation.
Tiny arms wrap around my neck as she tugs me in for a squeeze. ‘When are you moving in?’
‘Oh, my goodness, sweetie. It’s very early for that. We haven't even talked—’
‘This time next year.’ Cillian cuts over me, running a hand over Phoebe’s beautiful blonde locks.
‘Really?’ That gappy megawatt grin makes it impossible to burst her bubble.
‘We’ll see.’ I cross my legs and pull her into my lap. ‘Shall we go and see if Santa left anything for you?’
‘Honestly, I have everything I want.’ Her back rests against my chest for a split second before she bolts up into the air like thunder. ‘Unless he left a puppy down there for me? Do you think he did, Dad?’
I pull back the cover and tug on the leggings Cillian tore off me last night. ‘Maybe he left you a practice one in preparation for a real one next year?’
He did – a metre tall, battery-operated, fluffy golden retriever, complete with a pink diamanté studded collar and matching lead. The damn thing even barks. Cillian will be delighted.
‘Come on, princesses, let’s go investigate.’ Cillian holds out a hand to each of us and the three of us venture down the wide staircase together.
My eyes well with happy tears.
I always wanted a love like Frank and Penny, and I’ve finally found it. Phoebe is an unexpected bonus. That girl has my heart. And I have her back. No matter what.
The pink and white Christmas tree twinkles from the sitting room, luring us over. Neatly wrapped presents punctuate the floor below it, tied with pink bows and silky ribbons.
‘Oh. My. God.’ Phoebe flies across the room, picking up presents and searching for labels.
‘This one is for you!’ She squeals, pointing her index finger at me.
‘Me?’ I glance at Cillian uncertainly. The smirk on his face gives nothing away.
‘Go on, open it.’ Phoebe urges, shoving it at my stomach.
Shaky fingers pull the ribbon. ‘We weren’t supposed to be doing gifts. I didn't get you one.’ Truly, any spare time we’d had the past few days we spent tucked up here.
‘You are the gift. You’re everything I never knew I needed in my life.’ He presses a kiss to my temple.
Tearing open the paper, I stare down at the gift in my hands. A first edition Bronte. My mouth drops open. Raising it to my face, I open the thick musty pages and inhale deeply.
‘I love it. Thank you.’
‘It’s for your collection.’ He tugs me towards the huge floor to ceiling bookcase in his hall. There are two empty shelves.
‘I made some space for you.’ His Adam’s apple bobs. ‘For when you’re ready.’
I throw myself into his arms, just as Lillian Callaghan drifts down the stairs in a crimson silk kimono. ‘Merry Christmas.’
Did his mother’s presence delay our Christmas Eve shagfest?
Slightly.
Was I bothered?
Not in the slightest.
