Ruby, Hamish, and Luna took them to the playground behind the church while the rest of the group finished shopping. Callie found a red scarf that matched her rosy cheeks, and her mum encouraged her to buy it. Her father has followed the group, mostly speaking with Rhys and observing the festivities.
I can’t put my finger on what it is about Mr. and Mrs. Winter that looks so wholesome, but they perfectly embody every couple I saw in those American sitcoms growing up. Maybe it was the way Mrs. Winter immediately hugged me when we met, or her smiling eyes, or Mr. Winter’s firm handshake and deep, intent gaze. I swear the man was looking into my soul.
When they look at their daughters, they melt. It’s clear from watching this family they love each other deeply. It’s the way I know my grandparents feel about me. I was frustrated when my parents ducked out of our plans, but now I’m glad I don’t have to see a direct comparison.
“Gavin has horses,” Rhys says, drawing my attention away from Callie and her mom looking at hand-painted ornaments. “Two, I believe.”
“Irish draught horses, the pair of them,” I say. “But I don’t race. They’re only for riding.”
Mr. Winter’s interest grows immediately. “I don’t race either. In fact, I’ve taken an interest in training more spirited horses recently.”
“My grandfather had a tough stallion back when I was in school. I tried to help him, but it was a little strong for me.”
Mr. Winter nods. “Callie helped me a few years ago with one of mine, but she didn’t have enough time to devote to it. I did what I could, but we didn’t quite accomplish what we set out to.”
“She’s an excellent rider,” I say.
“How do you know that?” Rhys asks, looking amused.
“We rode last week.” I stuff my hands into my pockets. “One can only play so much Rubbish before one loses their mind.”
Rhys laughs. “Callie does love a good card game.”
Mr. Winter nods. “And a ride. It sounds like you’ve treated her well. I was worried when she told us she was snowed in, but she was obviously in good hands.” Mr. Winter looks me in the eye, which makes me regret half of the thoughts I’ve had about his daughter. “Thank you, son.”
Och, but my stomach twists. The word lands with a blow. My dad loves me, but he doesn’t treat me like this. I can’t remember the last time he’s thanked me for anything, and I’ve bought his house from him, gifted him bi-annual sums ofmoney, and let him take my bedroom for a fortnight at Christmas while I have a house full of my cousin’s guests.
It stings.
But he isn’t here, so I push aside those feelings. “Of course, Mr. Winter. Callie’s been a delight to have about the place.”
“You can call me Tom. We don’t need to be formal.”
“Sure.”
Tom scrubs a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. The jet lag is probably getting to him. “I’m going to see if I can drag those women away so we can find somewhere to eat. I need a Coke.”
Rhys steps closer once Tom leaves, his arms crossed over his chest. “Lucky man.”
“Why’s that?”
“Tom didn’t tell me to use his first name nearly as fast. I had to call him Mr. Winter for our first two visits.” Rhys raises his eyebrows. “And I was dating his daughter.”
Heat billows through me. I’dliketo date his other daughter, but it’s impossible. The man can probably sense that. “I’m not a real threat, Rhys.”
“Okay.”
Why did he sound so skeptical?
“I’ve known the woman for a week,” I say.
“No one’s telling you to propose. Don’t worry.” He claps me on the back. “But I know how hard it can be to stay away from those Winter women. Trust me, you’ll be Googling flights and calculating the costs of a long-distance relationship before you know it.”
I won’t tell him I might have already looked. I was only curious.
Callie sidles up to us, her eyes bright and smile wide. The woman is happy to be reunited with her parents, that much is plain. “You two hungry? Do you think everyone will want to eat?”
“Yes on both counts,” Rhys says.
