Snowed In (Fitzpatrick Christmas, #2)

by Catherine Walsh

“Good hair is wasted on men,” she continues, oblivious. “Like eyelashes. Why do you all have such long eyelashes? I pay fifty euro for my lash lift; meanwhile, you’re just walking around like some Victorian doll.”

“If you’re that worried about a haircut, just make Molly get it first. Then you can see if it looks good or not.”

As a twin, why didn’t I think of this?

Is that a toddler?” Zoe and I both turn to her almost two-year-old son, Tiernan, who sits next to her as he enjoys his daily allotted screen time via a tablet. “I think so,” Zoe says slowly. “He was here when we arrived.” “She’s kidding,” I say when the woman stares at her. “I am,” Zoe says. “Sorry. I’m just nervous. It’s his first time meeting his dad.” She turns back to me, suddenly emotional. “I’m glad you came.” And here we go. “He’s not mine.”

Like I said, Zoe was the MVP!

“You want to meet someone in the pub? What are you, old?”

“Are you thirsty? You want juice?” “Juice?” Zoe repeats, and he manages a distracted nod before focusing back on the screen. “He’ll have a whiskey sour,” she says to me. “On it.”

“If I start crying, just remember that’s manly now,” Christian says, following me blindly. “Toxic masculinity is dead.”