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He nodded. “It’s quite festive. Very Christmassy. Have you ever been to one?”

“No. Well, there are a few random street gatherings where I live, but nothing like an actual European market.” Claire narrowed her eyes to see it better, though she couldn’t make out much more from the distance. “My parents have been to a bunch in Germany and Switzerland. Next to cruises, that’s where they loved spending Christmases the most.”

“Were they traveling for work then, too?”

Claire bit her tongue. What was it about this guy who managed to bring out all these memories she’d done her best to suppress for years?

Then again, perhaps this was her chance to prove that she was more than fine with her parents’ decisions.

“No, they were just visiting some friends in Europe,” she explained. “I got to stay back in Colorado with my aunt and uncle.”

‘Got to.’ More like ‘had to.’ Claire used to beg her mom and dad to let her go every time, and every time, it was the same answer.

“We’re sorry, Claire Bear, but the Winthrops only invited your dad and I to stay. We’ll go one day when you’re older. We promise.”

Claire was still waiting for that promise to be fulfilled—and about a thousand others. She just couldn’t understand why, after seven—or was it eight?—visits, they still hadn’t brought her with them. Still, they’d always bring home little trinkets for her as they showed her all the photos of the markets, sharing how magical and dreamy they had been and how wonderful of a time they’d had.

“Do you want to have a look?” Liam asked.

At his offer, a strange guilt niggled at her conscience. She’d waited so long to go with her parents, always picturing seeing the markets with them. But then, would that ever happen?

Liam waited for her response, an easy expression on his face, and she knew at once what her answer was. Seeing the Christmas markets with her parents was a childhood dream. But seeing them with this insanely attractive man right now? It was an adulthood dream come true.

“I would love to,” she responded, and Liam’s eyes warmed.

Together, they made their way across the stunning Tower Bridge, its grey stone towers lit with green lights and blue, curved cables.

Instead of allowing Liam the opportunity to ask more about her parents, Claire urged him to speak more about the Tower of London and the bridge until they finally reached the market.

Hungrily, her eyes took in the sight. Backed up against a domed, glass building, countless wooden stalls lined the Queens Walk pathway, boasting a variety of foods, drinks, and handmade goods for sale.

Each miniature chalet’s pointed roof was decorated with rows of shimmering white lights like stars in the night’s sky. At the front of each roof, green shrubbery was packed in tight with more white Christmas lights, flocked, pointed pinecones, and silver bells.

As they walked down the row of huts, Claire marveled at the beauty, constant waves of people meandering down the smooth boardwalk, munching on chips, curry, and various pastries and sipping mulled wine and hot cocoa as they mingled with friends.

“It’s like a postcard,” Claire breathed. How could this be even better than she’d imagined?

Liam nodded, his face lit by the warm light coming from within the huts. “There are a few other markets around London, but this one is my favorite. My family used to come every year.”

“I can’t even imagine having such an incredible tradition,” she said as they passed by a group of girls at the side of the walkway. They huddled together to take a selfie with Tower Bridge in the background.

“I’m sure you have your own traditions that are just as memorable,” Liam offered.

Claire almost scoffed. Her most consistent family tradition was to not be together, and they were having a pretty good run at it.

They progressed down the pathway, passing stalls filled with nutcrackers, art displays, and hanging garden features before Claire spotted a hut offering warm drinks.

She stopped, motioning forward with a nod of her head. “Would you mind if I added a few more pounds to my tab?”

Liam didn’t hesitate, heading straight for the booth to purchase two hot chocolates and delivering one of them to Claire. They continued their stroll, the warmth from the cup seeping through Claire’s gloves as she held her drink in between her hands.

They passed by another stall boasting more than a dozen different types of cheeses, then another with crocheted mittens, scarves, and hats.

“Oh, wow.”

Claire stopped, glancing up at Liam’s exclamation. “What?”

His eyes were focused on the crocheted items. “I’ve found just the thing for you.”