Gus stepped back into the shadows and resumed his trek toward the trees. “Are you done throwing that in my face?”
“Almost.”
His warm laugh defied the cold, thin-air night as he led her into the trees on the northern perimeter.
“Wait. Is this your big plan? Hide me in the dark forest? Maybe have your friend Ernst off me and then claim I’m on the lam with theKing Titus?”
“You’ve quite an imagination.”
“I blame my father. He was our bedtime storyteller.” She startled and ducked low when something grabbed at her hair.
“Almost there, love.”
The off-hand endearment caused Daffy’s too-easy blush to bloom, but Gus wouldn’t know, thanks to the cover of night. And he’d not meant it, calling herlovewith such an affectionate tone. Probably didn’t even realize he’d said it. But yet somehow it rested on her, in her, and filled her.
“And this is not the dark forest. It’s just a lump of trees. The forest is a kilometer northwest.Oomph.” Gus stumbled forward, taking Daffy with him. “Careful, something reached up and grabbed me.” He swung around with a growl, his raised hand curled into a claw. “A-hahaha!”
Daffy screamed. Then ran. Blindly. Around trees. Into trees. Through trees. Low hanging limbs clutched at her hair. Ice crystals filled her lungs.
“Daffy, wait.” Laughter chased her. “I was only joking.Daff!”
She broke from the woods into a clearing, tripping over one last snow-covered root, and landed face-first in the snow.
Gus knelt next to her. “Love, are you all right? Daff?” He brought her to her feet, his laugh muffled, but evident. “I am so sorry.”
“No, you’re not.” She popped him in the chest. Hard, too. “You’re laughing.” She turned for the stone wall.
“Come on, that was funny.” He followed, brushing snow from her coat. “I don’t remember you scaring so easily.”
“Well, I do.” She stopped at the gate. “Are we doing this pub thing or not?” Her heart still thumped in her chest. What was he thinking? She punched his arm—just because.
He laughed, gripping his arm as if in pain. Though she was sure he couldn’t feel a thing through his thick jacket. “Are we even now?”
“Maybe.”
Gus opened the gate with a code and closed it behind him. When Daffy moved for the sidewalk, he caught her arm.
“You’re covered in snow.” He drew her closer, dusting off her shoulders, her hair, her nose, her eyes.
Through the dim street light, their gazes tangled. “Daffy, I—” He was hesitant, breathless, but intent. As if he truly had something to say. “I, um, I—” He stepped back. “We…we should go.” He started down the amber-lit street. “Ernst. Waiting.”
“Of course.” He’d been going to kiss her. She knew it. Felt the desire that soaked the air between them.
Falling in step with him, hands in her coat pockets, she sorted her thoughts. Did she want him to kiss her? Yes. She couldn’t deny the truth. But she must remember Thomas. She’d said yes to his proposal. Wore his ring.
She scoffed at the fairytale stories of Dalholm’s magic love spells. That if one wanted to fall in love, one must go to Dalholm. But hadn’t she fallen in love with Thomas here on a ski weekend? She did love him, didn’t she?
Never mind. She’d said yes to his proposal. Thomas was a solid chap. She’d not be untrue to him. Wanting to kiss Gus was not the same as kissing him. Meanwhile, Gus was on a love hiatus. Any dalliance with romance was foolish and shortsighted.
“W-where are we going again?” She braced against the slippery downhill slope of the cobblestone avenue. Mum liked to say the hamlet itself could be part of the Royal Trust. Founded in 1074 by the Duke of Northton, much of the old world charm remained. At least in the Old Hamlet.
“TheBelly of the Beast. Just off Wells Line.”
Walking settled her down and her breathing returned to normal. They turned down the narrow lane. “It’s as if we’re in a snow globe.”
“Yes, with the city lights and all the snow.” He stopped short, facing her. “I wanted to kiss you back there.”
His confession shook the snow globe and knocked her off-balance. “What?”
