“Not yet,” I whisper.
He doesn’t need convincing. He palms my lower back and cups my head, nearly picking me up off the floor in his enthusiasm.
A warm huff of air hits me in the cheek, followed by a wetnudge, and we break apart. Piggie neighs, her earthy breath washing over us again.
“Thanks, Piggie,” I say dryly, wiping my cheek with my sleeve.
Gavin laughs, and I feel the rumble of his chuckle through his chest. “Bloody horse.”
“Jealous, maybe?”
“She does love a fuss.” He scratches her briefly before taking my hand and pulling me away. Elephant is still eating but glances at us briefly when we pass. “I should probably speak to my parents,” he says.
“You might be glad you did.”
“If I’m not?”
I shrug. “You can’t know until you do, I suppose. But it has to be important to you, Gavin. This needs to be your decision.”
He closes the barn door and latches it, then laces his fingers with mine, gently rubbing his thumb along the back of my gloved hand. “I know. I haven’t felt this calm in a long while.”
We start walking toward the house, the moonlight glowing over the white earth and the charming house ahead.
“You sure you don’t want to quit school and move to Scotland?” he asks.
My stomach flips. “It’s not really in the cards for me.”
“Figured.” He squeezes my hand and pulls me around for another kiss, holding my chin lightly with his thumb. When he leans back, he exhales. “What does that make all this, then?”
“A foolish mistake?”
His light blue eyes are trained right on me. “I don’t think so.”
He’s right. I can’t really regret the time we’ve spent together or how close we’ve grown. When I leave, we don’t need to stop being friends, either. “One of the best Christmases I’ve ever had,” I whisper. “Where I made this really cool friend who kisses, like,really good.”
“Better than an American?”
A laugh rips from my throat. “You know what? Yes. I’d say you do.”
“Objectively speaking, Scots kiss better than Americans.”
Not sure there’s anything objective about it if you take the state of my heart into consideration, but I’m not going to share that with him. “We really should have kissed that first night if we wanted a truly objective analysis. Now I like you. Emotions are all involved. It’s messy.”
Gavin looks in my eyes for a beat. “That’s alright. I like messy better, anyway.”
The gingerbread housesare complete and lined up on the table. Classic Christmas music played in the background the entire time we decorated, and now we’re all gathered in front of the table, looking at our masterpieces.
“Shall we vote?” Nessa asks. “I have a feeling I know which will be our winner.”
Of course we’re all going to vote for Violet’s house. She meticulously placed each gumdrop, candy cane, and a handful of things I don’t know the names for. They’re messy, but it’s a beautiful little masterpiece.
“Aye, let’s vote on it,” Hamish says, lifting Violet as she squeals. “All in favor of naming Vi the Gingerbread Queen, say aye.”
“Aye,” comes the chorus from everyone else in the room.
She giggles. “Where’s my crown?”
“I suppose we’ll have to make one tomorrow, hen,” Granny says. “It’s getting late.”
