Phantom Lover 15 - First Foot by AJ Llewellyn

Author:AJ Llewellyn [Llewellyn, AJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Three

The children were all tucked in bed later that night, Kamaha and Keli’i being read to by my father in their room upstairs. Maluhia had dragged Raul to their room for what I assumed would be another frantic bout of baby making.

Downstairs, Track read to Little Kimo and the toddler twins. The rest of us adults sat by the fire in the massive Great Room. Kimo and I curled up on one end of the sofa, his parents on the other. Sammy and Tutu had the love seat, and our host sat in an armchair beside Fyfa, who sipped Scotch whisky , from a cut crystal goblet.

None of us wanted to move. The fire was wonderful, but the room felt like arctic temperatures when you stepped a few feet away from the blaze.

“This castle has quite a history,” the earl said. I wondered how many Santa outfits he had. The one he wore seemed pristine and clean, in spite of spending the day entertaining the kids.

Bikini-obsessed Pele had five sets of identical ones so she always had something clean. Asleep now in her bed, she wore a red, long-sleeve Tshirt, with her bikini underneath. Rodney reminded me a lot of my toddler. I wondered if he slept in his Christmas outfit. I had no idea I’d voiced this query aloud when he let loose his booming laugh.

“I have twelve sets and I always wear my red underpants in bed.”

When everybody laughed, he looked indignant.

“It’s for good luck, you know.” He glanced at Fyfa who sat beside him in the matching, huge armchairs they’d picked up at some estate sale. They looked like thrones with red velvet backing and gilt edging the kids loved touching. Santa the earl and Fyfa looked a bit like characters from a children’s fairytale.

She dipped her head, blushing.

“How did you meet?” I asked. I’d never heard the story. I just knew she’d come back to Scotland for a visit and emailed us to say she was in love and planned to marry the earl.

“In an antique store in Aberdeen,” the earl said, his fawning gaze intent on his beloved. “We were both looking for bargains. It was a spiffing store, wasn’t it, old gel?”

Gel. His Scottish colloquialisms were charming. I had to give him that.

“Santa memorabilia,” she said, reaching for the

whisky snifter again.

“Do you really dress like this all year?” I asked.

I couldn’t help it. I ignored my husband’s pinch

against my hip.

“Of course I do!” Santa boomed. “Did you

know that my great granddaddy was punished for

singing Christmas songs in this very home?” “Really?” asked Sammy. “What did they do to

him?”

The earl stared into the fire for a moment, a

look of misery on his face. Fyfa squeezed his hand

in a comforting way and a small smile returned to

his lips.

“He was fined. Unfortunately, you see, he was

the local baker in these parts and the local

authorities discovered he was baking Yule bread

when it was banned. He gave it to all the families

that requested it. He loved Christmas and wanted

to celebrate it.

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