He hesitated only a moment before joining her underneath the quilt. His breath was warm against the base of her neck, and she purred in delight as he ran his fingers lightly over her hair, continuously brushing the blonde strands away from her face. Her eyes fluttered shut.
She knew the choice wasn’t really theirs to make, considering the house had already decided their fate. But the words were hers.
Entirely hers.
Aknock came at the door the next morning.
The sound sent Puffcake springing from his pillow, barking like a madman as powdered sugar fell from his wings. Eliza groaned sleepily, peeling herself away from the warmth of her slumber.
The other side of the bed was empty, and the door was wide open.
She smiled to herself as the memory of last night came flooding back to her in a tidal wave. She bit her bottom lip and followed behind Puffcake down the stairs to see what the matter was.
Gretel stood on the porch. She was bundled up in a candy-pink jumpsuit that shimmered in the morning light. Her hair was in two French plaits that trailed down opposite sides of her head, with little sprigs of holly woven throughout.
Eliza tried opening the door, but, of course, the peppermint door handle wouldn’t budge. It needed to be opened on its own terms. Eliza groaned again, although her heart sputtered at the thought of needing to find Lachlan to open it.
The fireplace crackled in response.
“Very funny,” she called out to the house. She motioned to Gretel to give her one minute before padding down the hallway to search for Lachlan. He hadn’t been in the kitchen and dining room, which meant …
The bathroom door was closed, and steam billowed in wisps from beneath it.
“Okay, will you at least leave us a little dignity, please?” She asked the cottage nicely. But the cottage groaned something that Eliza was almost certain sounded like a “No.”
Point taken.
She banged her knuckles on the door, “Um. Lachlan?”
“Yeah?” he called out over the noise of the running water.
“Gretel is here, and um, I can’t ...” she hesitated. “The door is doingthe thingagain.”
There was a beat. Then a chuckle as he shut the water off.
Seconds later, he emerged behind the door, and there he was, sopping wet with a towel slung low around his hips, his brunette hair clinging to his forehead. Steam curled around him like an inappropriate romance movie.
Definitely not in modest, Hallmark fashion.
Eliza’s cheeks lit on fire.Cursed house,she thought.It knewexactlywhat it was doing.
Lachlan smiled, completely unbothered by his lack of wardrobe. If he noticed how uncomfortable she was, he didn’t say so. “I didn’t think you’d be up before nine, Snow. Even on contest day.”
“Well, Iwouldn’thave been,” she crossed her arms. “If it hadn’t been for our visitor and Puffcake huffing, puffing, and threatening to blow the cottage down.”
He barked a laugh, one of his rich ones that sounded like smooth butter. “Puffcake would make an excellent Big Bad Wolf, wouldn’t he?”
“Tell me about it,” she muttered, avoiding looking at his bare chest. “Now, could you please put on a shirt? Or at least dry off your body? You’re going to make the house all soggy.”
“Can’t have that,” he winked, closing the door.
By the time he emerged, this time in a t-shirt (thank Santa’s shiny boots), Gretel had already found her way inside.
“Oh, come off it!” Eliza gawked at the house. “Do you thrive off of making us squirm?”
Gretel stood in the kitchen, making herself at home by helping herself to a biscuit from underneath the cloche. She whipped one of her thick plaits enthusiastically behind her back, an eyebrow raised. “Did I do something?”
“What? Oh, no, sorry. I was talking to the house, not you.” Eliza explained. “It's been wreaking all sorts of havoc the past two days.”
