Page 17 of The Holiday Inheritance

“What did you whisper to her?” she asks as she holds me close. “Talking out your arse about me?”

I laugh, immediately feeling at ease. She pulls back, giving Briggs a look before turning back into the happy woman who hugged me. “It’s so nice to meet you, Florence. Please, don’t listen to a word Briggs has to say about us. I promise you it’s all bollocks.”

“I’ve not said a single nasty thing, I’ll have you know,” he says haughtily.

“He really hasn’t,” I say with a shrug. “I’ve actually been very nervous to meet you.”

“As if, love. Never be nervous. And look at you!” She holds my hands out to our sides as she gives me a once-over. “Beautiful. Come, let me introduce you to Dom and the twins.”

“We’re the twins!” they both announce as they step into our line of sight.

“There’s the little shites!” Briggs shouts as they both start to run toward him, laughing and screaming. He squats down, and they both tackle him to the ground.

Tess rolls her eyes and ignores them, tugging me down the hall until we’re in the kitchen. “This is Florence,” she announces. “Florence, this is my husband, Dom.”

He has an apron on while he stands at the counter, cutting up some fruit. “So nice to meet you, Florence,” he says, pausing quickly to wipe his hand before offering it to me.

“You guys can call me Ren,” I tell them as I shake his hand. “Thanks for having us both over tonight.”

“Of course!” Tess grabs some plates from the cabinet, and I immediately take them from her. “Thank you,” she says with a sigh, using her now free hands to grab a roll of paper towels and a couple of boxes of pizza. “The table is just through here.”

I follow her through the archway and lay the plates out around the table. Briggs and the twins come into the dining room as we’re finishing, and all three come straight over to me.

“Twin One and Twin Two,” Briggs says, a hand on each of their shoulders. “Introduce yourselves.”

“Hi, I’m Maya,” a little girl with dark, wispy bangs says as she steps forward, her small hand outstretched toward me.

“Hello, Maya.” I squat down to their level. “You can call me Ren. It’s lovely to meet you.”

“And I am Oliver, but I actually prefer to be called Oli because it’s less to say.” He holds out his hand as well, gently pushing away his sister’s hand. Maya just rolls her eyes and walks over to Tess, tugging on her sweatshirt.

“Lovely to meet you, Oli,” I say with a smile, trying not to grimace at how warm and damp his hand is. Like I said, not a kid person.

After the formalities are finished, Oli and Maya both climb up into their chairs and watch their mother cut up their pieces of pizza. Briggs wraps me up in his arms, and I take the opportunity to discreetly wipe my hand on the back of his shirt.

“Sticky hands,” I whisper, making him chuckle.

“Gross, right?” he asks, scrunching up his nose.

“Sit, sit!” Dom encourages as he walks in with bowls of cut-up strawberries and apples. “One for Oli and one for Maya,” he says, sitting them down next to their plates of pizza.

“None of the adults have fruit,” Oli points out as Briggs pulls a chair out for me.

“Very good observation,” Dom tells him.

This must be enough for Oli because he just shrugs before shoving a whole apple slice in his mouth. Maya does the same, except with a strawberry.

“Maya is always trying to be different these days,” Briggs whispers when he takes his seat next to me. “They used to do everything the same, even at the same time. But I think she’s going through aboys are annoyingphase and doesn’t want to be lumped into that.”

“Boysareannoying,” Maya grumbles, having heard what her uncle said.

“Yeah, well, girls have germs, so…”

“Girls have no more germs than boys do, Oliver,” Tess says, the annoyance in her voice clear. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Do you like Uncle Briggs?” Oli asks, ignoring his mother and looking straight at me. A lesser person would wither under that stare he’s giving me.

“I do,” I tell him, pausing to thank Briggs as he throws two slices of pepperoni pizza on my plate. I’m going to have to figure out how to get ranch over here. How in the world do these people eat pizza without ranch? “He’s pretty great, right?”

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