Christmas with the McCarthys (Dangerous Doms 7.50)
Keenan
Light strainsof Christmas music fill our home as the large front door opens, bringing it with it a gust of wind so fierce, I brace myself against the bitter cold. Lachlan enters, dressed in full winter gear. He grabs the handle of the door, steps inside, and shoves his whole body against the door to shut it. It closes with a bang.
“Bloody hell, Lach,” I mutter when he enters. “Did you bring winter with you from the north?”
He shakes his head, and little flakes of snow fall from his shoulders. We haven’t had snow in Ballyhock in well over a decade, since I took the throne as Clan Chief.
