Page 24 of The Princess and the Pizza Man

Will tripped over his feet for about the fiftieth time since he’d entered Frostville Mansion, but at least this time he had an excuse other than his typical clumsiness. The mansion at night was far darker than during the day, with dimly lit hallways and shadows around every corner. Will wasn’t a jumpy guy, but bein’ so outside of his comfort zone, a jolt would rock him any time there was even a flicker of movement.

Most everyone was either asleep or, like Maybelle, enjoying one of the few nights it wasn’t freezing. She’d told Will she was gonna go wander around outside, and he’d laughed it up so hard that he didn’t even notice her take a jacket and leave their room.

His feet fell heavy on the floor, his steps echoing in the empty halls of the mansion. The place felt big during the day, but there was a vastness to it at night that made Will truly believe the mansion had no beginning or end to it—just hallways and doors that led to more and more rooms and passageways and secret vaults behind bookcases and other worlds.

He’d never felt so far away from home.

The elevator stayed quiet as he passed it and headed toward a rarely used staircase—from what he could tell. Winter said she’d be just down a floor, the stairs leading right outside to a covered—and hopefully heated—balcony that gazed over the back of the mansion. Will had yet to see that particular area, and when she mentioned that it overlooked one of the gardens, he wondered just how many gardens she had. And balconies. And pools. And kitchens, bedrooms, and entertainment rooms.

No wonder she invited strangers in to enjoy it; he couldn’t imagine living alone with all this space.

The door to the stairwell didn’t make a single sound as he pulled it open, and he had to hand it to whoever was in charge of the WD40. The only chance his pizza shop had of being quiet was if he closed it down.

He took the stain-free, icy gray carpeted steps downward, smirking at the way the designs swirled together. It reminded him of Winter’s eyes; maybe the carpet was designed specifically for her.

When he got to the landing, the air got significantly cooler, and a chill ran up his spine and he pulled his heavy jacket tighter around his shoulders. There wasn’t a door, but a massive archway that led into a circular glass-made room—wall-to-wall windows and glass ceiling. Only the floor remained the same, and he stepped cautiously inside, eyes widening at just how beautiful it was. The stars were invisible tonight, but the sky was a breathtaking inky black, and with only the light from the stairwell filtering in, it was easy to see everything out the windows.

Will’s eyes dropped from the sky to Winter, who was leaning against the long handrail that encompassed the room. Her platinum hair broke through the darkness, along with her blue pajamas. Will felt the corner of his lip twitch upward as he got closer, noticing white, puffy clouds patterned on the fabric; she seemed to like the playful and young style, and he didn’t blame her. She looked stunning in it.

Her bolting, loudest laugh in the world greeted him. “You cold or something?” she teased, nodding at the way he’d turtled into his jacket. He grimaced and pulled his zipper up to his chin with flare.

“Not all of us are used to it being below fifty.”

“Oh, it is not that bad.”

“You ever been to Alabama this time of year?Thatis not that bad.”

The cutest wrinkle appeared above her nose, and she brought a finger to her lips. “Shh.” Her gaze fell to just out the window. “We aren’t exactly alone.”

“You’re just as loud as I am,” Will teased, but he took the few steps forward in silence to see what she was lookin’ at.

“They’ve been out there for about twenty minutes,” Winter all but squealed, her shoulders dropping in almost a sigh as she gazed down on Bells and Garreth. They were standing awfully close on a cobblestoned path weaving in and out of a lavish garden maze. When Will panned back, the greens reached back as far as the eye could see, gothic lanterns lighting up the hedges and different pathways, benches speckled throughout the gardens that hosted many, many early blossoming flowers. Bells and Garreth weren’t the only ones taking advantage of the privacy of the gardens; he coulda sworn he saw some tangled limbs in the distance, and he quickly diverted his gaze.

“Uh, you ain’t worried about them just looking up and catching us here?”

Winter rapped the softest knuckle against the window. “Reflective glass. Soundproof, too.”

“Then why were you shushing me?”

“Shh,” she said. “I’m spying here.”

He chuckled at her nonsense, liking how it looked on her. He never thought he’d be attracted to that, being that he was enough nonsense himself. It was why he tended to flirt with the shy, quiet women, liking how they blushed and bit their lips, how quiet their voices were and how timid they seemed at first, then shocked at themselves when they did something bold.

Winter was just… bold. She spoke loud and with authority. She called him out and teased, and, heck, she was pretty darn funny. Will found it frustrating… almost as much as he liked it.

“We should go down there.”

He jolted back. “What… downthere?” He pointed at his sister, who was now standing so close to Garreth he was surprised he couldn’t see the sparks between them.

“Mmhmm. We could hear what they’re saying.”

“Y’all outta yer mind.”

A slow smile spread across her face, eyes gleaming in the dim light of the room. She wrapped a hand around his wrist and confidently strutted toward the stairs, pulling him with much force.

“Come on,” she said when Will dug his feet into the carpet just enough that she nearly sprung right back into his chest. She let go of his wrist just to cross her arms and jut her hip out, giving him a look that made him fall right off his feet. “This is part of my process. I swear we’ll be quiet.”

“What’s wrong with observing from a safe distance?”

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