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Being winter, our shed down by the tree line can serve as a cool room. The florist assured her that if we keep them there, the flowers will be fine until the big day.
Since then, Rhia has disappeared to the shed numerous times and forbidden me to set foot in it. She’s been watching YouTube tutorials on flower arrangements and has been spending hours applying what she learned.
Meanwhile, Claudette and I have been in Christmas food preparation. Tonight is Christmas Eve. It’s when my family used to exchange gifts. It’s more of an Austrian tradition than an Irish one, but we’ve always followed it even though I lived much longer in Dublin than in Tirol.
Plus, when my parents were still alive, it made celebrating with the Bannaghans easier. We’d have Christmas Eve at our house with Rhia’s family and Christmas Day at theirs. We ended up getting presents twice that way. Who would complain about that?
Claudette and I baked, roasted and chopped for hours, listening to Christmas music. With her in the kitchen, fun is a guarantee.
Yesterday, Tiero and Lex took the snowmobiles to search for the perfect tree to get married under.
They found it.
Of course they would. Because everything is magically falling into place, right?
They spent the daylight hours decorating the area and also ploughing a path to it.
Tiero and Lex are currently out continuing their work while Rhia, Claudette and I are sitting around the kitchen table ticking off items on Rhia’s mile-long to-do-list.
“Why won’t you show me the flowers?” I ask Rhia for the umpteenth time. “Normally, a bride has a say in the flower arrangements, you know? I could help you,” I insist. “Claude and I both could.”
“But then we wouldn’t have anything to eat for Christmas and that would be a tragedy. Besides, I really want to do this for you. So please stop complaining and let me indulge myself.”
“Fine,” I grumble just as the all-too-familiar warmth begins to swirl through my veins and butterflies dance in my tummy.
A smile spreads across my face. This never loses its charm.
Even after months, the telltale signs of when Tiero is near have not waned.
Sure enough, not a minute later, the sound of snowmobiles drifts in the air. Rhia’s head pokes up from behind her list. Her grin is disconcerting.
I raise an eyebrow at her, but she schools her features and gathers all her papers, tapping them on the table to line them up.
“Good. The guys are back. Lex and I need to go into town to pick up some… umm… some rope.”
She looks guilty as hell. What is she planning now?
“Rope?” I repeat, my brows still expectant as I look at her.
“Yeap,” she says, meeting my gaze head on. “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I’m planning to do with it.”
Ohh.
Images of Lex or Rhia tied to a bed pop into my mind. I know she’s into bondage—I mean, who isn’t?—but surely they can wait till they get home.
She jumps up, effectively stopping any more questions, and heads to the door.
I look at Claudette. “What was that all about?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I have a feeling I don’t want to know.”
“Really?” I challenge. “Given you like nudist camps, I didn’t think you’d be shy watching.”
“True. But these two wouldn’t be into sharing. And what am I meant to do when I get all turned on?”
Okay… now memories of Claudette in a group hug at the nudist camp in Canada come flooding back and I shudder.
That was… yeah… could someone wipe my mind off that, please?
