Page 74 of Henhouse
Brayden took her hands in his and kissed the tops of her knuckles. “And what are you hoping for tonight, love? Dancing? Chocolate fountain? Stolen kisses on the patio until the sun comes up?”
“Truthfully I’d like to go, have a dance, a raspberry tart, then come home and watch a movie in bed with you.”
“I like that this is home now,” Brayden said, and it didn’t convey the breadth of the satisfaction he felt. His life had come together just as he’d imagined it that first day meeting Hope at the bookstore, afterall.
“It’s still weird to say, but I’m working on it. No thoughts on my plans to bail early?”
Brayden squinted at the golden light beaming through the window as the sun sank toward the horizon. “Just that we won’t have internet until Tuesday, and you might be inclined to stay longer once we get there.”
“Unless something truly dramatic happens, I doubt it. But I’m willing to be proven wrong.”
Brayden clutched a hand to his chest in faux shock. “What? You? Wrong? Could it be, folks, that Hope Thatcher is loosening the reins? Surrendering control?”
Hope glared at him with pursed lips resisting a smile. “Let’s not go that far.” And as if to prove the point she adjusted his tie one more time and patted him on the cheek before leading him to the door.
It was so damn good to have her back.
Louisa had truly outdone herself. Hope was nearly convinced they’d walked into the wrong house when they arrived.
The door to the hobby room had been transformed into a coat check counter complete with a tweed-suited attendant who ran the ticketing system for leaving coats, hats, or purses. On the other side of the foyer, the dining room was already loud with the boisterous banter of a card game. The men bellied up to the large table she recognized as the high school principal, the police chief, and other notable business owners who would rather hide in a card game than twirl their wives around the dance floor. Hope didn’t blame them, Louisa alwaysinsisted the dances were more intricate than your average waltz. The velvet rope across the stairs to prevent curious attendees from wandering caught Hope’s attention as Brayden removed her shawl and checked it. A soft laugh left her lips at the sight of it. “What’s funny?” Brayden asked.
“The rope. It’s Louisa’s biggest grievance that the stairs come down to the front door and not into the great room. No grand entrances like at your—our—house.”
“Maybe we’ll host next year so Louisa can sweep in.”
“I think she might kill you if you suggest it.”
“Noted.” Brayden offered Hope his arm. Her hand clasped over his elbow as they eased into the great room.
It was magnificent.
The band occupied the corner of the room, blocking one set of doors to the patio, but leaving plenty of room for dancing in the center. Floral garlands hung from the mantel and the floors were buffed and waxed to a shining finish. Tall golden planters lined the walls, overflowing with peonies, baby’s breath, and drooping wisteria. The latter was mirrored in the arbor Hope spotted through the French doors on the patio, the picture of enchantment with lush purple blooms and draping greenery.
It was like stepping back in time or into an elaborate scene from a movie. In another life, Louisa might have made a fabulous set designer. If the decor wasn’t proof enough that it was a night of splendor, then the ethereal gowns, pastel silks, and crystal glasses of champagne served by waiters with silver trays were. Every detail invited guests to step into the decadent daydream. The commitment to the theme in dress and diligence with which the couples already onthe dance floor followed along with the pair of professional dancers before them told Hope just how much people wanted a fantasy. Pride swelled in her chest, and for the first time in all the years Louisa had been hosting this event, Hope felt something like a kinship with her cousin. They both created a space for people to imagine, play, and try on an alternate reality. One with books, one with a night everyone in this room looked forward to all year.
Giving voice to her inner thoughts, Brayden said, “This is amazing. You get to do this every year?”
“And now you do too,” she cooed. In earnest, she gazed at the love of her life. “Thank you for keeping your tuxedo rental through it all.” She had invited him as soon as Louisa put the tickets on preorder and the next day they’d rented his tux. It wasn’t long after that everything fell apart.
“To be honest, I forgot about it.” He squeezed her hand. “But it seems my subconscious knew something I didn’t.”
Hope spotted Louisa in the crowd, and she hurried over to them. “Well?”
“Incredible, Louisa. I’m Brayden, I don’t think we’ve met.” He extended a hand and Louisa took it, beaming. Hope noted her approving assessment.
Louisa turned her eager gaze on Hope, needing more confirmation. “It’s perfect, Lou. I can’t believe how beautiful it is in here.”
She clutched Hope’s forearm and squealed. “Wait until you see the patio.” Louisa’s grip slackened as she stared across the room to the kitchen, past the cozy conversation set that replaced the breakfast table, where a waiter loaded desserts on a tray. “Excuse me, that’s not the course order!” Louisa stalked toward the gangly teen serverleaving Brayden and Hope to marvel at the glittering chandeliers and the spark in the air. Hope felt the promise of a wondrous evening in her bones.
And then he walked in.
Brayden wouldn’t confirm if he’d actually show. All he’d been able to offer was that Theo was a wreck despite his best efforts to act as though he was a man with a plan. Apparently, part of that plan involved surprising Effie by actually coming tonight. For some reason, Hope sagged with relief that Effie was nowhere in sight as Theo strode toward them. She thought Effie might flee at the sight of him.
He was devastating in his midnight-black tuxedo that hugged his shoulders and tapered with his waist. The coat was left unbuttoned, flipped back with roguish confidence behind the hands that were tucked casually into his pockets. His white shirt fit so well it had to have been tailored, and where a tie should be Theo wore only an open collar. “You’re gawking,” Brayden teased.
Hope blushed. “I am not.”
Brayden laughed. “I’d be offended, but you’re not the only one.” He was right, many eyes, mostly female, were securely fixed on Theo. “Hell, I think he’s handsome too.”
