Page 74 of The Twelve Dates of Christmas

He chuckles and rubs one of the bear’s worn ears between his thumb and forefinger. “It’s all right. This isn’t the first time he’s been in the splash zone, love.”

* * *

Later, Jake and I take a Boxing Day walk in the woods, and I get to give my new wellies their first taste of clean Cotswolds mud. The chill snaps against my face and neck, but the sun is so bright I imagine I can smell it. Crisp, bright, and pure.

Jake’s hair is winter wheat in the sunshine. He’s rugged today, dressed in flannel, jeans, boots. Before we’re off, I zip his coat up to his chin and tug his hat down to fully cover his ears. His nose is red and his voice is raspy from the cold, and he smells like weathered wool and that unique alchemy of cold air on warm skin after hours outdoors.

Being here makes me realize how nature-starved I am. New York City has green space, and Central Park is more wild than most people outside the city realize. There’s also a surprising amount of gorgeous nature within day-trip driving distance from New York, but I never seem to find the time to go. And even if I did, it’s not the same as this.

“I really love your family, Jake. I’ve never met people like them.”

A brisk wind makes the tree branches shed snow like glitter.

“Well, you’ve never met anyone like me, either.” A playful brow quirks upwards, his voice low. “Makes sense I’d come from this sort of stock, yeah?”

“One year, when I was still in college, Maddie and I went home for Christmas with one of her friends. They were a super-close family, too, but it was chaotic and overwhelming for me. It seemed exhausting. After that, I really thought my family’s disconnectedness was preferable.”

“Are you saying you can see yourself spending more time with my family?”

I’m sprouting tiny roots, like I’m a windblown seed that’s finally landed where I’m meant to stay. I could spend my life in a place like this. I don’t answer with words, but I clutch his hand tighter. “Why do you live all alone in London when you have such an incredible family here in the country?”

Jake’s tilted smile is fleeting. “Technically, Cait and Maeve are in London too—”

I fix him with a mock-stern look. “Jake.”

His soft chuckle is more rueful than amused. For a moment, he presses his lips together, and his jaw flexes like he’s sorting around for the right words. When he finally responds, his voice cracks a bit. It’s one more thing that breaks my heart and stitches it back up in the same breath. “When we get back to London, I’ll show you.”

* * *

Two days after Christmas

We say our goodbyes to Jake’s family mid-morning on the day after Boxing Day. There are no tears, only hearty hugs and see-you-laters. They know I’m leaving early next week, but it’s like they know I’ll be back someday.

I’m utterly in love with his family, despite every warning that pings like sonar inside my heart. Getting close to a family means there’s more people to lose. If feeling like this was a choice, why would I choose it again? When I know how it aches to lose it?

The scenery from my car window during the trip back to London is the same as it was when we came, simply in reverse. But now I see it as a woman leaving a place that feels like a home, rather than someone journeying to meet strangers. Jake is quiet on the drive back, but it’s a warm, expansive silence, not a distant one. It’s like he knows I need time to sit with what I’ve just experienced.

I’ve finally accepted where this is going. Love doesn’t have to feel like a test I might fail. We can figure this out. Together.

We’ve reached the outskirts of London when Jake says, “We’ve had eleven dates, you know. I promised you twelve. Are you up for a bit of shopping and dinner?”

And just like that, we’re back to where we began, dating in London. And this, too, feels a lot like coming home.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Two days after Christmas

From the outside, Liberty looks less like a department store and more like an old Tudor house, as if it had been plucked from the past and dropped into the middle of London. Inside, the central atrium is multiple stories of open space with a glass ceiling, all dark timber framing and carved scrollwork along the open galleries at the sides. Steeped in expensive perfumes and fresh fabrics and polished wood, I breathe in a world that feels both luxurious and alien to me.

“Ah, Mr. Frost, it’s been a while!”

A woman approaches with a wide smile on her face. She looks to be in her middle fifties, wearing a fitted midi dress in a stunning pigmented floral print. Her hair is swept back into a neat bun; she’s dripping in class. The only hint she’s an employee is the name badge on her lapel that reads “Lorraine.”

Jake bends to kiss the woman on each cheek. “Lorraine, a pleasure as always.”

“And this must be Evie.” Lorraine extends her hands to me, and I take them, even though I’m not sure if I’m supposed to.

“Nice to meet you, Lorraine.”