Page 76 of The Curse of Indy Moore
“I suppose you have played boyfriend well for plenty of partners, so it comes naturally to you.”
Mr. Hawthorne beamed over the menus. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Miss Moore?”
My hands flexed in my lap. “Not an ounce.”
“Far more than an ounce, I would say, though I cannot blame you. There is hardly any competition for me.”
“I’m surprised you are able to imply that there is any competition at all.”
He gave a dainty bow. “Part of my appeal is my modesty.”
Laughter erupted from my chest so loudly that I failed to hide a snort behind my hand. My blush crept past my hairline as Mr. Hawthorne’s laughter joined mine. Beneath the table, I thought I felt his leg brush mine.
“Don’t hide your laugh,” he said when turning his attention to the menu. “It’s cute.”
I willed my heart to cease its dramatics to no avail. The soil had turned, and in it, new growth burst through, their blossoms full without warning. They brought with them a painful hope that no amount of logic could smother.
Clearing my throat, I cast my eyes aside to admire the treats a server brought to another table. “You don’t need to flattery me. I am not tipping you for your assistance.”
“I don’t want a tip from you, although I was honest about that dance.”
That got me to stare at him again, gawking at the serious expression he wore.
“The Moonlit Ball,” he elaborated. “We were invited, and I intend to take you. There is nothing I wish to see more than you in a dress fit for a queen and nothing I want more than to have a dance with you.”
“I fear I am no dancer.”
“Then we will make one of you.” He smiled and read off the menu. We decided on sharing a sweet lava cake drizzled with dark chocolate and caramel that tasted utterly divine.
After that, Mr. Hawthorne took us to the shopping district, where we weaved in and out of storefronts, admiring garments and jewelry and tapestries from seas away. With the port so close, there was so much to offer. Even I couldn’t resist window shopping, which didn’t go unnoticed. Mr. Hawthorne had a handful of deliveries prepared within the hour for the both of us. I ceased telling him I didn’t need anything, seeing as it encouraged him to grab more.
Eventually, I started holding up a dress I liked, which Mr. Hawthorne would then buy, and it felt… nice. Nice to wear a beautiful dress and liking who I saw in the mirror, nice to step out of a changing room to find Mr. Hawthorne waiting to share a compliment, although a voice at the back of my mind said time and time again that he was only being kind. Somehow, I didn’t care that much. All I cared about was that first moment when I stepped out and he was quiet, his lips parted like he was seeing me for the first time.
“You are beautiful, Miss Moore,” he’d say in the softest tone.
“You’ve said that each time,” I countered.
“Because it is true each time, and I am nothing if not an honest man.”
Although I laughed, I returned to the changing room, where his words held me in the softest caress I had ever known. Then I would bring out the dresses to lay onthe counter, where the owner prepared them for shipment. I had no idea where they would go once this was over, or how I could possibly wear them… more so because I’d think of this, of him…
“Do you have time to be shopping?” Carline struck like lightning, without warning. She stood in the middle of the street, passed through by the locals, and yet, felt more real than the pathway beneath my feet. “Your time is almost up,” she said, stepping closer.
Behind me, Mr. Hawthorne remained in the shop talking with the owner. I stood by the threshold, reaching for the door handle when Carline closed the gap between us. If she were here, I would be able to feel her warmth, the rage radiating from her piercing gold gaze.
“The full moon is nearly upon us, and you shall return to me, where you belong.” Carline traced my cheek with such a loving look that most would believe she truly cared. “None of this changes anything. You cannot stop the inevitable. You belong to me, Indy Moore.”
An arm looped with mine, and a hand fell beneath my chin. Mr. Hawthorne brought my attention to his. He wore a stern, concerned look.
“She’s here,” I whispered before he could ask.
“He can’t save you,” Carline said so confidently that mine wavered.
“Whatever she’s saying, don’t believe a word of it.” Mr. Hawthorne led us down the street. He kept a firm hold on me, my anchor to reality.
“You’ve been lost for so long, but I’ve found you now. We’ll be together forever. You will have a family forever,” she said, always right there behind me.
When I dared to look over my shoulder at Carline keeping pace with us, he squeezed my arm.
