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Now, this can mean a lot of things. Cuddling on her couch. Having a slumber party. Going ghost hunting. But there's a slight rasp in her voice, accompanied by what is definitely a smirk.

"We're not going to watch A Christmas Carol, are we?"

"Guess you'll have to see. Bring some of Caleb's rolls you were stashing in your freezer, will you?"

"But…"

"Don't pout, Kieran. Be a gentleman."

"Only for you." I sigh and kick the blanket off. "I'll see you soon, Brooke."

"Can't wait."

Chapter 32

Brooke

My fingers tap against the wooden countertop as I stare into nothingness.

I am desperate for a distraction. The Christmas market is right around the corner, setting up social media obviously doesn’t yield results this quickly and my nerves are on the damn edge. There’s nothing I want more than to think about literally anything else, but my brain keeps returning to the problem at hand.

As much as I'd like to pretend I'll be okay with losing the property for my sanctuary, as much as I’m telling myself the right time will come, I'm going to be crushed. Until the last possible moment, I will cling to hope, pray to the universe for a miracle, and tell myself I’m not delusional for still believing everything will work out.

There's nothing worse than being alone with those thoughts.

Well, alone is relative, I guess.

I'm still downstairs with the animals. Rose is curled up at my feet. Blanche and Dorothy sniff every corner of the room to find treats I hid for them earlier. Sophia can’t be bothered to get out of her kennel, already deep asleep.

Sam and Dean are still too terrified to hang out with the others. They are not openly hostile, but it's clear they are not vibing with the girls’ gang here and prefer keeping to themselves.

Tap, tap.

My heart jumps as I turn to the window. And the moment I see Kieran's face, a calmness washes over me, and all the noise inside my head, all the rapid-fire worries, drown in it.

He's here.

Fuck, it’s good to see him. Trying to hide the spring in my step, I unlock the door for him, pull it open, and lift my chin, lips pursed.

"Well, hello there." He grins and leans down to kiss me. How I love it when a guy takes a hint. "I'll take that greeting any time."

"Noted." And I’ll take him pulling up here in gray jogging pants anytime. My kryptonite.

Dick nudges our legs aside and waltzes inside, joining Blanche and Dorothy in their hunt for treats. Rose barely even lifts her head, still curled up for a nap.

"What do you have there?" I point at the black cotton bag in his hand and try to take a peek inside.

"Oh, you know." He holds it out of reach. "Hot chocolate and whipped cream. All the fun stuff." He wiggles his eyebrows, and I playfully swat his shoulder.

"Maybe one day."

A hot chocolate sounds heavenly right now. Whipped cream on any part of my body aside from my lips? Not so much.

“Give me the hot chocolate. I’ll throw on the microwave.”

“Heathen!” With feigned shock, he puts his palms on his cheeks. “Next you’re telling me you make it with hot water instead of milk.”

“It’s either a kettle and water or milk and a microwave.” I shrug, but I’ve got to admit, watching horror wash over his face makes me question my methods.