Why hadn’t she just put on something a bit more comfortable for the journey here? Of course, she hadn’t expected the enchanted house to lock her inside before she could grab any of her things.
Back when Eliza was a girl, she hadn’t ever recalled the cottage being magically faulty or the weather ever being this extreme. It was a weird year, all around.
Lachlan blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “Just borrow whatever you need from me. It’s just one night.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, brow raised. “I’ll get powdered sugar on one of your fancy flannels.”
“So will I.” Lachlan shrugged. “We’re literally in a gingerbread house,” he pointed out.
She cracked a faint smile. “Fair point. But just so you know, I’ll be baking and pretending like you don’t exist.”
She was thankful for the gesture so she could, at the very least, get out of these jeans and into some sweatpants. But that didn’t mean she had to converse with him.
“Deal.” He casually leaned against the island, kicking his feet out. His socks had elves wearing ugly Christmas sweaters on them. “You can wear my clothes in exchange for a pastry.”
“It sounds like you get the sweeter deal,” Eliza shot him a glare.
“You’re in no position to bargain. Unless you’d like to stay in jeans all night long.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Are you blackmailing me?”
“The way I see it, I’d call it Negotiation,” he said. “I’m an estate agent, so I come by it honestly.”
“Estate agent, huh? Planning to move into your forever home here on Drury Lane?”
His laugh lacked amusement. “No. Actually, my sister sent me here as an early Christmas present. She said I needed to ‘get away.’”
Eliza thought for a moment. “Did your sister make the reservation? Maybe she forgot to complete some form online, and that’s why you’re here?—”
“My sister’s an orthopedic surgeon,” he cut in. “I think she knows how to use a bloody booking app.”
He blew out a breath as he looked out the window again. He looked wishful that all the snow might magically melt so that this impromptu snow-in party could come to an end. She followedhis gaze, hopeful too. But the snow was falling at a sharp forty-five degree angle.
There was no escaping this mess anytime soon.
Bang! Something slammed against the back door. Eliza jumped. Lachlan grabbed the handle and swung it open. Before she could question how he managed to get the door open this time, a gust of sparkling flurries came pillaging in. Beyond it was a solid wall of ice. The snow outside pulsed, glowing bright orange.
Then, bursting through the snow and into the kitchen came a tiny gingerbread dragon, flaming at the mouth.
The gingerbread dragon shot from one end of the kitchen to the other in a festive sweet-smelling frenzy. It couldn’t have been any bigger than a kitten, with bulging lavender eyes the size of gumdrops. Its wings were decorated with pink and green icing. The sugar encrusting them left a trail of dust in its wake as it flapped around madly, doing circles from the kitchen to the living room.
Eliza gawked, not believing her eyes. “Wonderful. There’s a miniature biscuit lizard in my kitchen.”
The creature barreled into the baker’s rack, knocking a jar of white chocolate chips off the shelf. As soon as the jar of sugar-glass shattered and a thousand tiny candies scattered, the jar reappeared, magically restored with more chocolate chips inside. Eliza blinked, doubly shocked.
It had been years since she’d witnessed the magic of this cottage—she’d seen it plenty of times before when she came here with her nan—but that didn’t make it any less jarring. Still, she’d never seen a flying hatchling of any kind before.
Lachlan, however, seemed immediately taken with the creature, as if it was an everyday occurrence that a living, breathing gingerbread dragon came flying into his life.
“Hey little bloke,” Lachlan greeted with a smile.
Eliza couldn’t help noticing how gently Lachlan approached the creature. Slow, careful, and leaving it room to breathe. Not out of fear, but out of respect for its personal space. And the irony wasn’t lost on her, considering she was stuck with him for the evening, forced to share the gingerbread house.
Lachlan looked up from where he was bent over, flashing Eliza an apologetic smile. “I kind of have a thing for strays.”
Eliza gave something like a “hmph,” displeased with the turn of events. She crossed her arms. It wasn’t that she didn’t like animals. She loved them, actually. She’d always wanted a cat, but her fiancé—ex-fiancé—had been allergic.
She just didn’t want the extra stress. Not this week. Maybe that meant she was a little selfish, or maybe it just meant she was exhausted.
