Page 23 of Hensley Manor
I paid little attention to the Christmas toys and instead went over to the cars and trucks. Some were like the modern ones seen in stores today—made by machines in large supply—but others were different. They appeared to be hand carved and painted, each one slightly different. Several minutes passed as I explored the store. It was truly remarkable and had a vast selection of toys for every type of kid. Cars, dolls, dinosaurs, planes, trains, and action figures.
Snow globes.
A shelf on the far wall caught my eye, and I moved toward it. Many of the snow globes had cute characters inside them, like Rudolph or Frosty. But one was identical to the one I had at home; a near perfect replica of Hensley Manor. I picked it up, my hands shaking.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ian said.
I startled, nearly dropping it. “Y-yeah, it is.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t.” I placed the snow globe back down, but my fingers had trouble letting go of it at first. “Pretty awesome replica of your manor. Looks just like it.”
“No one knows who made it,” Ian said, staring at the globe before moving his stare to me. “One day it just appeared in a box outside the store. And more have appeared each year since. It’s the great mystery here in Evergreen Valley.”
“Seriously? Doesn’t that creep you out?”
He shook his head, smiling. “Not at all. Sometimes it seems as though the house is alive when I look into the snow globe. I can feel the warmth from the fire and smell the pine trees. There’s no better reminder of home.”
Home. A part of me envied Ian. He had lost his family but still found joy in life. Instead of shoving away reminders of what he’d lost like I had, he held the memories closer, carrying on the family traditions. The manor was like a beacon for the lonely hearted at Christmas, drawing in a bunch of misfits who came together to celebrate with a family of their choosing. Like Jolie and Tracy.
And me.
“We should return,” Ian said, after checking his watch. “I need to start the dessert for tonight’s dinner.”
“More cheesecake?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Is that an invitation to dinner?” I stepped closer, matching his flirty smile with one of my own.
“Well, the thing about dinner at the manor, Mr. Wiley, is all guests are invited.” He narrowed his eyes, but his smile remained.
“And here I thought I was special.”
“You are.” The admission caused his cheeks to darken the most beautiful shade of pink, and he averted his gaze.
I could get used to this; talking to Ian and seeing the sexy curve to his lips when he flashed a flirty smile. Seeing him blush. A mutual attraction sizzled between us. There was no denying it any longer. But with the attraction were also nerves, both his and mine.
Each time a blush colored his cheeks, I wanted to take hold of his nape and pull him close to me. To kiss his heated face and feel his breath on my skin. However, when I tried to act on that impulse, my insides froze. I had been rejected by men many times in my life, so it wasn’t anything new. Being rejected by Ian, though, would hurt worse than any of the others.
I didn’t understand why, but being around him just felt different. The kind of different I could get used to.
“If you’re interested,” Ian said, back to a flirtatious smile, though traces of his blush remained, “I could use some help in the kitchen.”
“Oh how the mighty have fallen.” I dramatically sighed and brought my hand to my forehead. “Going from a fancy dinner invitation to kitchen duty.”
It was the first time I’d heard him fully laugh. He laughed so hard that his eyes watered. I told myself right then I’d do everything in my power to make him laugh like that again. And again.
“So, that’s a no?” Ian asked, showing the small wrinkles at the edges of his eyes as he smiled.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
“It’s a yes. Teach me your ways, oh great one.”
As we headed for his car, I noticed the miniscule changes in myself. Since meeting Ian, I smiled more and felt like a part of my old self had returned. The Christmas decorations still made me curl my nose, though. So there was still that. Yet, I didn’t feel as miserable.
Not as alone.
