Page 50 of The Night

There were times, in the past week or so, when I was pretty sure Ididn’t. The lights shining in the living room window, the occasional whistle from the dining room, and the fact that I was curled on the floor in my own home suggested I’d become someone else entirely.

But I was shockingly okay with that.

“Pardon me, Princess Hazel,” I said meekly. “What were you saying?”

“I wassayingthat Princess Fiadora’s dress isstunning.”

I eyed the cat, who was licking chicken cat treats off my coffee table and seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment just a bit too much.

“Stunning,” I agreed. “But not as stunning as yours, Princess Hazel. That pink-like color is… magical.”

Hazel smiled, and I thought maybe I was getting the hang of this. Pretty sure I wouldn’t be bragging about it to anyone, though.

“Why thank you, Gertrude!” She took a sip of her hot chocolate with her pinkie firmly in the air. “And I do adore your hat. The feathers aredelightful.”

I touched a hand to my head. “Um. Thank you? I… plucked them myself?”

One small eyebrow raised, and she shook her head just slightly.

“I mean, thank you for that enchanting compliment, Princess.” I took a sip of my tea—which washellabitter, prompting me to remember that I fuckinghatedtea—and remembered to lift my pinkie also.

“Gertrude, I do so enjoy staying at your house for the holidays.”

“Wait, pause,” I said, holding out a hand. “Am I supposed to be doing the fake accent too? Because I’m pretty sure I can’t do that.”

Hazel sighed. “Gertrude,of coursewe are expected to speak in our best company voices.”

“Ah.” I cleared my throat. “I do so enjoy having you here Princess Hazel. I do declare, it’s the loveliest gift I’ve ever received.”

I was pretty sure I hit halfway between British and… Southern belle?

Fia jumped from the table to the couch and started licking herself, which clearly showed whatshethought of my effort, but Hazel didn’t seem to mind, so I went with it.

And I took a second to thank God that Parker wasn’t here to see this because if hewere, he’d get that weird, gooey look on his face and possibly start to think that he had atalentfor matchmaking.

Which he did not.

“I cannot wait for our Christmasball,” Hazel said. “We shall dance the night away.”

“Oh. Uh. I’m sure you dance divinely. And your ball gown will be, uh…” I’d already used every adjective in my vocabulary. “Splendiferous?”

A small sound—more than a breath, less than a laugh—made me turn my head toward the kitchen. Liam was lounging against one side of the wide archway, watching us.

Christhe looked good. His cheeks were pink, probably from the cold, and his face had lost its tired look over the past week. His posture was relaxed, his mouth was twitched up in a casual smile, and his eyes were…fuck. They lookedhungry.

And not for Princess Toast.

Well, damn.

In my mind, I heard Parker whisper, “Movaries, Gideon.” I rolled my eyes at myself.

Hazel jumped to her feet. “Daddy! Guess what? I almost burned Gideon’s house down!”

Liam straightened and his eyes went wide. “You what?”

“But he’s not mad because it’snot a big deal.” This was delivered almost as a warning, in case Liam was tempted to make it a big deal, and I smothered a smile behind my cooling tea.

Blech.