Without another word, Lucy and Will ran up the stairs like naughty school children. When they reached Lucy’s door, she had to lean against the frame because she was laughing so hard. Will made the “shush” sign with his hand, failing to stifle his own laugh. He pulled her into the room and closed the door. She straightened and sighed repeatedly to try and catch her breath, one hand fanning her face, the other planted on her chest.

She hadn’t laughed this hard in ages—first in the car and then at the Aunt Jackie debacle. Her stomach muscles were going to hurt in the morning.

Will blew out a long breath. “So, now you’ve met Aunt Jackie.”

She grinned and the laugh threatened to reappear. She quashed it with another breath. “Yes, yes, I have. I do think you downplayed what that experience was going to be like.”

“I’m sorry you were embarrassed.” He stepped forward and snaked his arms around her waist as though he’d done it a hundred times before. Lucy settled into the embrace, her hands resting on his forearms, a tiny part of her mind realising how wonderfully normal it felt to be there.

“She embarrassed you as well. Have you really never brought a girl home for Christmas?”

He shook his head. “There’s never been anyone I wanted to bring.”

“Actually,” a frown settled on her face, “come to think of it, I haven’t either.”

“You’ve never brought a girl home to meet the parents,” he teased.

She tutted. “You know what I mean.”

He nodded, his eyes roaming over her face. “She was right about something, you know, Aunt Jackie. You are stunning.”

Lucy gulped. Coming from Will, she could almost believe it. The corners of his mouth flickered into a slight smile and he licked his lips, just like he had on the snow. Lucy wasn’t letting the moment slip away this time. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. When she pulled back, there was what she could only describe as delight on his face, and he leant down and kissed her again, pulling her closer as her hands reached for the back of his neck, her fingers entwining in that glorious blond hair.

They were late to dinner.

*

“Popcorn or paper chains?” Will asked.

“Um, popcorn, I think,” Lucy replied.

The whole family was assembled in the living room to decorate the tree, a rather scraggly specimen that Bob and Nate had chopped down and dragged inside earlier that day. It was at least twelve feet tall and Lucy wondered how in the world they were going to reach the top to put the angel on—if there even was an angel. It seemed like the only decorations would be those they were going to make.

Bing Crosby was singing, the fireplace was on, and there were six giant bowls of popcorn scattered about the room, with people eating as much as they were stringing—maybe more. The family sat in twos and threes, chatting while they strung the popcorn and glued strips of red and green paper together, as though they were in some kind of holiday nursery class.