Page 8 of Hensley Manor
Great. He probably thought I was insane.
Then again…I might’ve been. Because I had no clue what had happened last night. Maybe this wasn’t even real. Maybe I was still asleep on the couch, lying in a puddle of drool, and would wake up any second to Lance banging on my front door.
The food tasted real, though, as I found a table near the window and started to eat. The flavors burst on my tongue, and the coffee was hot and brewed just the way I liked it. My dreams were vivid sometimes, but neverthisvivid.
As I chewed a bite of biscuit and gravy, I looked at the evergreen trees and the branches weighed with snow. The sky was overcast, but it had finally stopped snowing. There was something oddly familiar about the small walkway and bench outside the window. I sipped coffee as I studied it, wondering where I had seen it before.
If it wasn’t all so weird, enjoying a delicious breakfast in a mansion in the countryside might’ve been relaxing.
Okay. A game plan. After I ate, I’d search for my phone then call Lance and tell him what happened and hopefully find a way back home. But first I needed to know where I even was. If I had somehow flown somewhere, as Ian said, I was probably several states away. My savings account wasn’t anything too impressive, but I had a nice little cushion. I would buy a ticket back home and leave as soon as possible.
This is all too weird.
Once I finished eating, I carried my plate into the connecting room that I had seen other people go in and out of. It was a small kitchen. I placed my dishes in the sink before walking back into the dining room.
“I hope you enjoyed the food,” Ian said.
Mostly everyone had exited the room, except for an older man in the corner who was drinking a cup of coffee and reading the morning paper.
“It was great. Tell the cook I said the cinnamon rolls were the best I’ve ever eaten.”
“The best, huh? Thank you.” Ian smiled, and at my confused look, he added, “I baked them. Susan made everything else, but I’m in charge of the pastries. For dinner, I make the desserts, too.”
He was sexyandhe baked sweets? Maybe I shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave.
“So, you’re an employee here?”
“I’m the owner.”
My eyes widened. “But you’re so young.”
He chuckled, and I found I quite enjoyed the sound. “The place has been in my family for generations. I inherited it after my mother passed.”
“I’m sorry.” Leave it to me and my big mouth to stir up bad memories for him.
“That was several years ago,” he said, his voice gentle and kind. Just like his blue eyes. “May I ask what brings you to Evergreen Valley? Business or pleasure?”
Evergreen Valley. Never heard of it before.
Had my drunk ass randomly picked some place on Google maps and bought a plane ticket? I knew I’d been in a slump lately and depressed from all the holiday cheer, but surely if I had wanted to get away for a few days, I would’ve picked somewhere less Christmassy than some bed and breakfast smack dab in the middle of a fucking winter wonderland. I would’ve gone to Hawaii or some other tropical place. Somewhere with sun and an endless supply of drinks.
“Er, pleasure, I guess. Nothing business related or anything,” I answered, hoping my response didn’t sound as stupid as I thought it did.
“You guess?”
I cleared my throat. “Where’s the restroom?”
“There’s one across the hall.” Ian pointed in the direction. “And I take it you saw the one in your room?”
Actually, I hadn’t noticed it, as I’d been on the verge of freaking the hell out at having woken up in a strange place with no memory of how I got there. But that was good to know. I didn’t like sharing bathrooms with random people.
“Thanks.” I took off in the direction he pointed. Once I was inside with the door shut, I flipped on the sink and splashed water on my face. “Come on, Cole. Pull yourself together.”
I wasn’t a spontaneous type of person, not even while drunk. How could this have happened?
When I emerged from the bathroom, the ends of my hair damp from where I had washed my face, Ian was speaking with the young couple I had seen earlier. The woman smiled and touched her belly and the guy said something to Ian. From my distance, I didn’t hear what they said, but the smile on the soon-to-be-dad’s face was big and bright.
I caught myself staring too long at Ian and promptly looked away. Not sure what it was about him, but the owner of the inn attracted me like no other man had before. He had a cool collectedness to him, and though it was clear he came from money, he still managed to seem down to earth and kind.
