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Saved by the teapot.
“Ahhh,” he whisper-yells. He bolts across the room to the kitchen, almost tripping over one of the island stools as he goes, and I suppress a laugh behind my hands.
As soon as he reaches the stove, he quickly turns it off and removes the kettle. He snatches mugs from a cabinet and assembles two hot chocolates complete with mini marshmallows.
While I wait for Brent to finish, I glance around the room. There are photos from when his late wife was alive, memories of Nora as a baby, pictures with his parents, and a wedding photo.
What a gorgeous woman Michelle was. Nora definitely gets her spunk from her dad, but her looks? They’re clearly from her mom.
Brent startles me out of my thoughts when he asks if I like coffee creamer in my hot cocoa.
“I thought I was the only person who drank their hot chocolate that way.” I eye him warily. “I never drink it without it.”
“I almost didn’t ask you because I thought you’d think I was weird.”
We both laugh as he takes the peppermint mocha creamer out of the fridge and adds it to the mugs.
“To be honest, before the festival, I hadn’t had a cup of hot cocoa in years. I’m definitely getting my fill now.”
“Wait, what? Why?” His brow scrunches in confusion.
“I have to be so conscious of the way that I look for work, and much like the pancakes, hot chocolate was definitely not part of my approved diet.”
“Well, that’s insane, you’re beautiful.”
I flush and my pulse quickens. Do I hear that a lot? Yes, from strange men who want to be seen with a celebrity, or from paparazzi who want the right shot. But from someone who doesn’t want anything from me? That doesn’t happen often.
“Thank you. I don’t always feel beautiful. I have to watch what I eat and work out seven days a week so I can fit into certain clothes and make everyone around me happy.” I pause, mulling over my words. “But being here in Winterberry has made me question if I have forgotten about my own happiness in the process.”
“So, what makes Penelope Smith happy?” he asks.
I take a few minutes before I answer. “Christmas trees, dinners with family, taking walks in the snow, sitting down to read a book. All those things have made me so happy this past week. Oh, and the pancakes at Sally’s Diner. They’ve definitely made me happy.”
“I’m glad Winterberry has brought some happiness to you—it does have that effect on people.”
“People, but notyou, right?”
“It’s complicated. And I don’t want to get into those deep feelings right now, over a cup of hot cocoa. That’s more of a conversation over a shot of whiskey.”
“Is there even a bar close by here?”
“There’s one in town that everyone goes to, which sometimes is not a good thing because you run into people you were trying to avoid, but that’s been my spot since I was old enough to drink.”
“I love that. Maybe one day before I leave you can take me there.”
“We might be able to work that out,” he says as he finishes stirring the creamer into the mugs.
He hands me a pink princess one that I’m assuming is Nora’s. He holds a blue superhero one in his hand as he makes his way to the couch where I’m sitting.
“Brent, are you sure I can drink my hot cocoa on this couch? It’s beige and looks expensive.”
“Are you going to spill?”
“I mean, I’m not going to try and spill but what if I do? I’ll ruin it.”
“That’s what stain remover is for. Do you know how many things Nora has spilled on this couch? More than I can count. Relax.”
I’m still unsure about sitting on the couch with hot cocoa. Flashes of Drew scolding me for eating or drinking on my couch fill my head.
