Page 28 of Journey to Cheshire Bay

“She’s two years older.”

My age. As careless as I was at that age, I always doubled-bagged. Becoming a mother at sixteen was not in my cards. “Oh, wow.”

“I’ve never met my nephew. He was adopted by a family in Quebec, a good family we were told, one that promised to love and care for him.”

Oh god, had my foster home woes worried him?

“I’m sure if he was adopted, then he was very much wanted and will be well taken care of.” I held his hand. “Did he have a name?”

“Not that we heard. He was Baby de Lauer when Myriam handed him off, pretty much sight unseen. She pushed him out and they took him away. He’d be nine now.” A veil of sadness covered him like the clouds over the sun. A haunted, far-off expression ghosted across his eyes.

If it was one thing I could do well, it was read the room, and a change in topic was definitely requested. “You know, if he’s anything like you, he’d probably love it here. This place really is enchanted.”

“That it is.” He stood impossibly close, enough to smell a hint of peppermint from the piece of gum he was chewing.

My eyes roamed over his tanned cheeks and focused on his lips. His perfectly formed lips. They appeared soft and touchable, and just thinking about it increased the tempo of my heart.

“Fairytales are amazing. Even though you know the hero will defeat the villain by the end of the story, the journey is worth watching. The characters all get what they want, and there’s a guaranteed happy ending. But real life isn’t a fairytale, and I’m no hero. There’s so much I want but can’t have.” He ran his hand up my arm and looped it around my waist, gently tugging me close – the air between us full of sparks.

I swallowed, my heart thumping against my ribs. “You’re working hard to achieve everything you want, and no doubt, you’ll get it all.”

“No, not everything.”

We stood so close the breeze couldn’t channel its way through.

“Do you believe in happy endings?” His words were low and throaty, and the vibrations of it stirred up a longing deep inside.

“Is that your second question?” I laughed, but his face was all seriousness. “Oh, we’re not playing anymore?” I looked deep into his eyes. “I don’t know if I believe.”

Breathlessly, I moved my head closer and stared into the depths of his eyes; they matched the mossy greenery of the forest. My heart pounded and my hands tingled. I wanted so much to give into the urge to lean forward and plant a teasing kiss on him, and as much as I believed that was what he wanted, I held back.

“Iris?” The whisper of my name tickled the strings in my heart.

“Holden?”

We gazed at the other, barely a wisp of breath between us. Slowly, with a hint of hesitation, he tipped toward me and ever so parted his lips. Before we sealed together, he pulled back and stared.

“I really shouldn’t.”

“You can, it’s okay.” Unable to stop myself, I took the lead and brushed my lips over his, my legs weakening a touch the moment we connected.

He was an inexperienced kisser, stiff and a little sloppy, but after few heartbeats, the kiss changed in power, and the throbbing sensations it produced turned my legs to jelly and sent my pulse racing into outer space.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice fell. “I’m sorry.”

Of course, there was instant regret on his part. It was me, after all – a former bully who was only as smart as a stick. Turning away, with white knuckle ferocity my hands curled around the railing as I lowered my heavy embarrassment between my arms.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and tenderly ran them down to rest above mine.

I had the uncanny ability to detach myself from most people, to not get caught up in emotions, except once, and after that explosion, I swore to myself it would never happen again. I simply was not the kind of person someone as kind and wholesome as Holden should ever be caught up in. I was a raging disaster, and his post-kiss apology was proof of that.

“We should get going. Your family is waiting.” I dropped out from under him and descended the tower of stairs, my feet smacking the steps in a fury to leave.

Holden kept pace and soon we were back at the entrance, which coincidentally, had us walk through the gift shop.

“Before we go, I need a memento. For the memories.”

Since we were on his schedule, I waited patiently as he searched through the racks of tacky tourist traps, until he settled on a snow globe of all things. Inside were miniature gnomes sitting on toadstools, the wordsEnchanted Foreston a sign behind the shortest gnome, as glitter floated all around the dome.