Meredith
“Better?”
Dylan nods down to his boots that are swamping my feet, an amused look on his face. I’m walking like I’ve got skis on, my arms reaching out to keep myself balanced as we trudge through the deep snow.
“Yep.”
The pub isn’t far, and as we near it, the warm glow from inside warms my heart, and Dylan pushes the door open, allowing me to go first. The wind whips around his head as he stands there, trying not to laugh at me in his boots.
“Stop laughing. Twat,” I mumble as he snorts.
“Come on, in you go.” He grins as I stamp my feet on the worn mat that welcomes us to the Duck and Cherry.
It’s fairly quiet, but I’m hardly surprised. Who the hell would come out in this weather if they had any sense?
The bar runs in a semicircle at the far side of the room, and the smell of roll-ups and stale beer is the aroma of the day. Glasses hang upside down from the top of the bar, and a buxom barmaid lifts her head to us from a crossword she’s doing. Her eyes light up when she sees Dylan, and I inwardly roll my eyes.
“Hey, handsome,” the barmaid calls out, her eyes flickering over to me. “What’ll it be? Ale?”
“Alright, Mandy?” Dylan says, tugging his hat off as he stabs his feet. “Bloody mental out there.”
“It is,” Mandy agrees, staring at Dylan wistfully. “Ale?”
“Actually, I just wondered if you have a room for this good lady here.” Dylan smiles, moving into the chair in front of the bar.
Mandy looks over at me with surprise, her eyes bulging when she whispers something inaudible.
“What?” I ask, hovering beside Dylan.
“It’s Christmas,” Mandy explains, a sympathetic smile on her face. “We’ve had folk come from all over this year. One couple came all the way from Scotland! Thankfully they got here before this blizzard we’re having.”
My heart drops, and I notice Dylan’s smile is frozen in place, his hand stroking his jaw again.
“No rooms at the inn?” He jokes, and Mandy laughs heartily.
“You know what it’s like. Christmas is our busiest time.”
“Yeah, I get it. It’s just that the roads are blocked into town, so the maid is stuck with me,” Dylan explains, glancing at me. “Poor girl, eh?”
Mandy looks jealous for a brief minute, but she forces a smile.
“Aww, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Do you want a drink or not?”
“I’ll have a pint and whatever Merry wants,” Dylan says, fishing about in his pocket for cash.
“Merry? That’s a nice name. Very festive!” Mandy says, her eyes sparkling.
“It’s not Merry. It’s Meredith,” I say politely. “I’ll have a JD on the rocks, please.”
Mandy lifts her eyebrows, exchanging an amused look with Dylan, who shrugs.
“No Coke? Well, it’s Pepsi, but, you know what I mean,” Mandy booms, grinning at me.
“Straight is fine, thanks.”
“You drink straight whiskey? I had you down as a Prosecco girl.” Dylan laughs, sipping on the frothy head of his pint.
The condensation that runs down the glass captures my attention for a minute until Dylan raises it to his lips, which curve around the glass like they’re old friends hugging.
