Inside the manor, warmth and noise collided with Theo like a wave. April’s parents sat near the hearth. May and June were a tangle of curls and chatter beside the tree.
April tugged him toward the chaos. “Last year, June tried to wrap the cat in gold paper. He escaped but not before stealing a bow.”
Theo blinked.
“May thinks the gingerbread biscuits whisper. Last Christmas, she said one called her a goose, and she threw it in the fire.”
“Did it scream?” Theo asked, deadpan.
April giggled. “Only she would know.”
He gave a soft snort, almost a laugh.
“And once June thought perfume was rosewater and sprinkled it everywhere. The house smelled like lavender for a week. Father still twitches when he smells it.”
He looked at her then. Really looked. His eyes took in the room, the glowing fire, the chatter, the comfort. Like he didn’t quite believe it would hold still if he moved too fast.
August wandered over, tousling April’s hair. “I told you my sisters were a handful.”
“I am not,” April objected instantly.
“Do try not to overwhelm him.”
April turned to Theo with solemn concern. “Am I overwhelming you?”
He stared at her, unsure how to answer, then shook his head. “No.”
She beamed. “Good. Because you look like you need more stories.”
He didn’t respond, but he smiled. Really smiled. And April decided then and there that she was quite fond of him.
Even if he didn’t have a dog.
The memory had faded over time until it felt like a dream, and his face in the memory blurred beyond recognition, but at this moment,seeing him framed in the doorway of her bedchamber, the memory returned with startling clarity. As if it had happened just yesterday.
“You look like you did at Christmas,” she said, before she could stop herself.
He raised a brow. “Which one?”
“The one when you came home with August. You had snow in your hair and no gloves. And you looked like you didn’t know what to do with a family.”
Theo stepped into the room. “I remember. Your sister fed me four biscuits and tried to convince me your Christmas tree was magic.”
“She still believes that,” April said softly, stepping back to allow him entry.
“I am surprised you remember. You were so little then.”
“And you indulged my thousand questions.”She tilted her head. “Why have you come?”
His eyes met hers. “Because I cannot stop thinking of that boy. And the girl who tried to save him with warm fires and gingerbread.”
April swallowed, her hands clasping in front of her even as the past hovered between them and neither of them moved.
Theo stepped further into the room.“May I sit?” he asked.
April blinked. “So formal. Do you require a written invitation as well?”
He gave a small shake of his head and walked over to the sofa near the hearth. She shifted to make room, her heart beginning to drum without reason. He sat beside her, the fire casting gold and amber across his face.
