Mix-Up under the Mistletoe (Glenbriar #11)

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rafe

Tuesday, December 24 th

Christmas Eve

Morning

R afe placed a miniature silver sleigh on top of his mum’s perfectly iced Christmas cake. Memories of crashing into the bush with Tilly resurfaced along with ones from further back. Christmases from long ago flashed before his eyes. These same decorations had come out year after year. Since the days he’d had to stand on a stool to reach the worktop, he’d been helping decorate these cakes.

One day, would he have experiences like this with a family of his own? He’d missed that opportunity with his ex, but maybe there was a chance with Tilly. Not that he’d asked her. It was one of the many things they’d not had time to talk about. Would that chance arrive? Or was their relationship going to focus on business from now on? Had Tilly been right in her self-assessment and forgotten him as a potential partner already?

Hilary brushed off some icing sugar from the front of her Mrs Claus apron as Alexander got a little enthusiastic with his ‘dusting’, causing a mini blizzard.

Geoff rolled up his sleeves and scooped up the fallen snow. ‘We’ll need another plough if you carry on like that, young man,’ he said.

‘No, grumpy,’ Alexander said, and everyone chuckled.

Geoff smirked as he always did when his grandson called him that.

‘I don’t think you’ll ever be grandpa,’ Cressida said.

‘He suits grumpy.’ Rafe winked at his dad.

Geoff frowned and put his hands on his hips.

‘See what I mean?’ Rafe winked, and they all laughed again.

‘Thank goodness none of you ever called me that,’ Grandma said.

‘Like we’d dare.’ Cressida flicked a look at Tina, and they smirked.

Genevieve was adding silver beads to the cake with the total perfection that came from all the cooking videos she made for her social media channels. ‘Stop making me laugh,’ she said. ‘Or I’ll make a mistake.’

Finlay mimed nudging her, and she threw him a look.

‘Ouch,’ Rafe said. ‘If looks could kill, you’re in trouble.’

Finlay held up his hands. ‘I surrender. Do you your worst.’ He waggled his eyebrows at Genevieve.

Rafe should be enjoying every second of this, but his heart wasn’t fully in it. His message to Tilly from yesterday lay woefully unanswered. Had he completely overstepped in hoping she’d want to see him again? But how could he dismiss everything that had happened between them? Maybe she didn’t want to take the risk. Only time would tell, but could it speed up please? Not having her here for Christmas was hurting so bad. How different this would be if she was here, joining in, laughing with them, sharing the fun and the love.

Once the cake was fully decorated, Hilary moved it to the sideboard. Alexander was still eyeing it. Wouldn’t be a surprise if later on the little cherub found his way in here and climbed onto the sideboard to start his feast.

The hot chocolate station was out again, and Hilary poured milk into a pan. But Rafe didn’t fancy it. He slipped out and went into the living room, sitting in front of the giant windows, gazing at the stunning landscape. One day he’d like to come back here to live. Glasgow was great for work, but this was the kind of place to put down roots. He could commute to Glasgow a few days a week and remote work the rest of the time, but that life would be so much more complete if it featured Tilly too.

He lifted his phone and tapped out another message to her.

RAFE: Hey, sorry if my last message overstepped. Will keep things professional if you’d rather do that.

He laid his phone on the coffee table and sat back with a sigh.

His plans to travel to London on the twenty-seventh had been shoved into a back burner. The doubt riddling his mind blocked him from doing anything that might look too pushy. If he turned up at Tilly’s door in London when she only wanted a business relationship, would that be any better than her turning up here last Friday? It was possibly worse.

He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at his phone. Like he’d willed a message to appear, it lit up, and he dived for it.

TILLY: I have lots to talk to you about. Can you answer your door? I’ve arranged for something to be delivered to you… It’s Christmas Eve, after all!

He frowned at the phone, then messaged back.

RAFE: Answer the door when? Do you mean now? I didn’t hear any deliveries.

TILLY: Go and check. It should be there now.

What on earth was she up to? And what had she sent? He had some completely terrifying visions of a sexy Santa strippergram before he reached the door. But Tilly would never send anything like that to his parents’ house… or at all.

He opened the back door and glanced around. No parcels, nothing.

‘Rafe,’ Hilary said from behind, making him jump. ‘Sorry, son, didn’t mean to scare you, but what are you doing?’

‘I just had a message and—’

‘Oh goodness.’ Hilary clapped her hands to her face and stared past Rafe out the door.

He turned around and his heart stopped. Tilly was on the doorstep, smiling shyly, and gently sucking on her lower lip. ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m here to see Rafe Harrington.’

‘Oh, Tilly.’ Hilary rushed forward and opened her arms, wrapping Tilly in a huge hug. Tears filled both women’s eyes and Rafe felt a swelling lump in his throat from deep in his chest. ‘Rafe Harrington is right here,’ Hilary said. ‘And you have my permission to do anything you like with him.’

Rafe raised his eyebrows at Tilly. She gazed at him for a moment, then they both moved, closing the gap and falling into each other. Rafe held her tight, and Tilly put her arms around his back so forcefully she almost snapped him in half. But the pain was exquisite.

Please let this be real.

He stroked the top of her head, then placed a gentle kiss on it. His mum had vanished, possibly to give them space or maybe to alert the rest of the family, in which case the private moment would be short-lived.

‘I’ve missed you so much.’ She slid her fingers around his cheeks, and slowly moved her face nearer to his, pausing barely an inch from his mouth. His heartbeat accelerated. ‘I brought this.’ She dropped one hand from his cheek and fished in her pocket. When she raised it again, she had a small sprig of mistletoe. ‘Just so we’re sure this time.’

‘Sure of what?’

‘Sure that you’re the only man I want to kiss under this.’

He took it from her and placed it on top of the door. No time to hang it properly. ‘You’re definitely the only girl I want to kiss.’

Together, they moved. Her soft lips pressed lightly against his, and she tenderly kissed him, causing bolts of electricity to fire through him. He returned the kiss, reacquainting himself with her gentle touch. It felt so right. So necessary. The most natural thing in the world.

He slipped his tongue into her mouth and his need for her jumped several steps. The kiss deepened, and Tilly’s hand wrapped around the back of his head, holding him, making sure he couldn’t pull away, which was fine. He didn’t want to. Her fingers knitted into his hair, tugging him closer and he held tight, flush up against him, right where he wanted her to be.

Who knew how long they stood like that until they had to come up for air? Who was counting time?

Rafe stroked stray strands of hair from her face, gazing at her like she couldn’t possibly be genuine. But she was.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Well…’ She pulled back and looked at him. ‘You said I’d always be welcome… and… um, if it was ok, I’d like to spend Christmas with you.’

‘Of course it’s ok. I can’t think of anything I want more. I just don’t—’

‘It is way more than ok.’ Hilary reappeared. ‘It’s fantastic.’

‘Oh my god,’ Genevieve screamed as she rushed out to grab Tilly.

What Rafe wanted to say to Tilly would have to wait. He’d also have to wait to find out how she’d got back here and what had happened with her job. His family weren’t going to leave her alone any time soon. And really that was fine because what was the rush? Tilly wasn’t going anywhere this time.