Christmas Ever After. Sarah Morgan

I was going to say it tastes like Christmas.” She ran her tongue over her lips. “It tastes like Christmas in a glass.”

      “I always think the same thing.” Alec’s mother handed her a plate and gestured to the rack of cooling pastries. “This end is mushroom, garlic and chestnut. The far end is feta and spinach. You need to relax, Alec. You’re very tense.”

      Of course he was tense.

      He’d brought a stranger into his home at a time of year that was reserved for family, although so far he couldn’t fault her manners.

      “You should sit down,” he said to Skylar, his voice gruff.

      His mother nodded. “Yes, you should. That bruise of yours is nasty, dear, and you do look very pale.”

      “I always look pale without makeup.” Skylar licked her fingers. “These are delicious. The only thing I can produce in the kitchen is soup. You’re a wonderful cook.”

      Alec saw his mother melt like ice cream left in the sun.

      “Settle yourself there and rest,” she said. “Simon will take a look at your head as soon as he’s off the phone. Maybe we should give you something nonalcoholic. After all, you have to save yourself for the champagne later. We don’t want you falling asleep in the middle of the celebrations.” She glanced up as Alec’s father walked back into the room. “Well?”

      “It was Mary from the village. She needed reassurance, that’s all.”

      “So you don’t have to go out? That’s good.”

      “Celebrations?” Alec helped himself to a pasty. “What are we celebrating?”

      “You really need to ask?” His mother exchanged looks with his father. “It’s been three years since you brought anyone home, Alec. We’d almost given up and now here you are with Skylar. I know you won’t want to talk about it, but—well, we’re just so happy for you both.”