Puffcake seemed pleased that Eliza remembered. Gretel stroked his spine instead, and he softly began to purr, settling into her lap as she continued petting him.
“Careful. We don’t know if he melts.” Lachlan said.
“Too late,” Eliza snorted with amusement. Puffcake was now fully splayed across Gretel’s lap, belly up, cinnamon-tongue hanging out and all.
Eliza scooped up a serving of the pudding, giving Puffcake half the amount she did the humans. He took one look at the bowl and then to Eliza, letting her know that he noticed and he was not pleased.
She gave him a pointed look. “You’re about five inches tall and almost entirely made of sugar.”
Puffcake just flicked his tail, blowing smoke through his nostrils.
Each of them dug in.
“Santa’s beard!” Gretel let out. “This isamazing. It’s like Christmas in a bowl.”
“She’s pretty incredible, isn’t she?” Lachlan agreed. Eliza blushed at his comment, even though she knew he was speakingon behalf of her baking skills. “By the end of the week, I’m going to be rolling out of this gingerbread house.”
Finishing off the pudding, Lachlan stretched out his arms. “I’m going to head upstairs and do some reading until Hansel gets here, if the house will let me.” Then his chocolate eyes landed on Eliza. She suddenly didn’t know what to do with her hands. “Try not to burn down the kitchen while I’m away.”
“I won’t,” Eliza rolled her eyes. “I bake things other than frozen pizzas, remember?”
Lachlan laughed, already halfway up the stairs. “Yeah, yeah.”
Eliza caught herself smiling. Gretel just stared at Eliza suspiciously. Gretel lifted a perfectly arched lavender brow. “Not your boyfriend, huh?”
Eliza shook her head, her cheeks growing in warmth.
“Hmm,” was all Gretel said, before scooting closer in her chair, her unnaturally green eyes wide with enthusiasm. “You should enter the baking contest at the Reindeer Games festival! I’d bet my bottom you’d win first place.”
“There’s a baking contest there?” Eliza asked.
Gretel, whose mouth was now full of the pudding, only nodded vigorously. She politely put her hand to her lips as she explained, “Every year. Same day, same sort of chaos, but in a different font. Usually, the prize comes down to either Frank or Mrs. Elle Toe.”
“Mrs. Elle Toe?” Eliza raised an eyebrow.
“She’s a retired librarian. Bakes for fun, lives to read and gossip. Absolutely ruthless with a piping bag. Frank’s family has been running Mendel’s Confections since this village was built. Like, literally. He might be a thousand, but everyone’s too afraid to ask. Mrs. Elle Toe would be thrilled to add some fresh blood to the competition. Frank, on the other hand, I can’t say the same.”
Eliza smiled. “In that case, I think I might actually be up for going.”
“Good,” Gretel beamed and brushed her lavender hair away from her heart-shaped face. Then, she paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “What were we saying before, about the house? Oh, right. Haunted.” She didn’t whisper the word.
Eliza stiffened. She noted how the fire in the hearth paused mid-crackle, as if it was listening in.
“You’re not the first couple to mention that this place does some pretty weird stuff,” she took another bite as if she hadn’t just dropped the biggest truth bomb there was. “Some things can be chalked up to coincidence. Other things ... not so much.”
Eliza set down her fork, suddenly not craving any more pudding. “What have you heard?”
“Just little stuff, mostly. The cupboard doors wouldn’t open, the recipe books would vanish, or the words would disappear right off the page. One couple claimed that the sugar kept spilling onto the floor and wrote different words in it when they weren’t looking. Others say the oven burns things, refusing to bake.”
Eliza’s thoughts hinged on the part where Gretel mentioned the recipe books, though none of the words ever vanished for her. The recipes glowed every time she looked through them, and the enchanted cookbook practically opened itself for Eliza. It even fell off the shelf to get her attention.
But with the oven refusing to bake, the doors locking on their own, and not allowing Lachlan out of her sight, it all tracked perfectly.
“Odd,” was all Eliza said.
“It is.” Gretel nodded in agreement. “And the weirdest part? The house doesn’t do it to everyone. Only the couples staying here.”
“But we’re not a couple,” Eliza reiterated.
