Page 16 of The Holiday Inheritance

Her head falls back for a moment, my favorite laugh of hers exploding through her. “I think I’d like that very much, Mr. Briggs…?”

“Oh, I’d rather not,” I grimace as I nervously laugh. Eugene is not a name you brag about.

“You have an embarrassing middle name?” She lights up at the idea. “Oh, that’s great, honestly. Because you’re too amazing. It’s good to know you at least have one thing about you that isn’t soperfect.”

“I amnotperfect by any means?—”

“Shh,” she says, pressing a finger over my lips, her smile ornery as hell. “You don’t have to tell me now. In fact,” Ren continues, her hands roaming over my cheeks and back into my hair, “I think I’d like to thank you properly for the Christmas stockings, anyway.” She grins and shrugs. “Before you ruin it with your horrendous middle name.”

I begin to give her a piece of my mind, but her pouty lips cut me off as she leans in and kisses me. Our mouths open, and our tongues dance together while our hands explore each other’s bodies. She fits against me like she was always meant to be here, and it sends a pang of sadness through me that my parents will never get to meet her. Because, damn, they would adore her.

Who knew that I, grumpy-as-shit Briggs Davies, would fall for an American woman. It’s all very King Edward the Eighth of me.

“Merry Christmas,” she whispers against my mouth as our kisses slow.

And as I sit here, my woman in my arms, the fireplace warming the den, and “It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas” playing in the background, I realize just how happy I am that the old Rover got stuck. Happy that the snowstormcame, happy that it wasmewho offered to pick her up, happy that she came down to the kitchen that night—even if it did get me kneed in the nuts.

I smile as I kiss her again and again.

“Happy Christmas, Florence.”

Epilogue

Florence

New Year’sEve

“You looksonervous,” Briggs teases as he squeezes my hand. We’re sitting in the driveway of his sister’s home, and it’s freaking gorgeous. It’s a two-story cottage with swags and red bows on every window. There’s an orange glow coming from the downstairs windows, and I can see shadows moving behind the curtains.

And, yes, Briggs is right. I am nervous.

I nod and lick my lips, then fret I’ve fucked up my lipstick and pull down the small mirror to check a little too roughly. It clunks against the windshield, and Briggs leans over, grasping my face in his hands. I’m forced to turn away from my reflected face and look at him.

“They’re going to love you, little duck.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “It will be okay, I promise.”

“I just really want them to like me,” I admit, my voice cracking into a whisper. I know this is probably crazy. I shouldn’t be this worried about meeting my boyfriend’s family. But my anxiety always plays up in social situations, and I really wish Amie’s flight hadn’t been postponed until after the newyear. The same storm that brought me Briggs delayed her flight. I could really use her right now, just to help take the pressure off.

“They will, sweet girl.” His smile is reassuring, and I try to pull myself together. They’ll definitely not like me if I’m an anxious, bumbling mess.

“Okay,” I say, taking a steeling breath. “Let’s do this.”

Briggs grins, kisses me once on the cheek, and then hops out of the Rover, running at a decent clip around the hood to open my door. “Surprised you didn’t eat it just then,” I tell him, laughing as he lifts me down out of the car. “It’s still icy.”

While this is a New Year’s Eve party, it’s just the six of us. They told Briggs they wanted me all to themselves so they wouldn’t be inviting anyone else over. It’s a relief because I did not feel like dressing up to the nines in this frigid weather. So instead, I’ve paired my favorite jeans with a thick green sweater and a pair of snow boots. I curled my hair and put on a little makeup just to make a good first impression.

He holds on to me tightly as we walk over the salted driveway and up to the doorstep. It’s made of the prettiest old stone, and Tess has decorated it beautifully. There’s a skinny tree with fake presents all around it and a large Christmas wreath on the heavy front door. Briggs knocks a couple of times, then opens the door, letting the warmth from inside defrost my nose.

“Just us!” he calls out as we step inside. I can hear the kids laughing and music playing. And the unmistakable smell of pizza wafts into my nose.

“Pizza,” I groan as he takes off my coat. It’s the first time we’ve really been able to leave the estate since I got here, and pizza reminds me so much of home that I could cry.

“They said the kids wanted to treat this like Christmas Eve since I couldn’t make it on the real day,” Briggs answers with a warm smile. I can tell he loves those kids with all his heart. “Thought it would make a nice surprise for you.”

“Coming!” booms a voice from down the hall.

“Sorry!” says a woman, who I assume is Tess, as she comes out of the back room. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, and she’s wearing a stained sweatshirt and leggings with fluffy socks on her feet. “Florence!” she squeals, her face breaking out in the most genuine smile.

“Told you not to dress up,” Briggs whispers just before I’m engulfed in Tess’ arms.

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