Fairy Cakes in Winter Read Online Lane Hayes

Categories Genre: Contemporary, M-M Romance, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
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I scoffed. “That wasn’t my—”

“I don’t know what to say, though, and that’s not like me. I’m usually exceedingly loquacious.”

“Yeah, well…quiet time is good too. Listen, just…close your eyes and—” When the plane lurched again, he turned a funky shade of gray. I furrowed my brow and sucked in a deep breath. Like it or not, it was in my best interest to reverse course and talk him off the ledge or run the risk of sitting next to a mile-high yakker. “Okay, let’s chat, Theodore.”

“Theo,” he corrected, gnawing his bottom lip. “I c-can’t.”

“Sure, you can. C’mon,” I coaxed. “Just say the first thing that pops into your mind.”

“I’m too young to die.”

I snorted and patted his hand awkwardly. “You’ll be fine, Theo.”

“If you s-say so.”

Well, I tried.

I reached for my iPad, intending to shuffle my music selection. But then I stole a sideways glance his way and…damn, he looked pitiful.

So, I stuffed the iPad into the seat pocket in front of me and gave it another go.

“Let’s try something else. How old are you, what do you do for a living, how long will you be in London?”

Theo licked his lips nervously. “I’m twenty-nine. I’m, um…an accountant, and uh…I’m not spending much time at all in London. I’m going to visit my mother. She and her husband, Alistair, live in a small village an hour and a half outside of the city, and—is it going to stop soon?”

Honestly, the turbulence was more of a sustained light rattle at this point. I inclined my chin and nodded. “You won’t notice it after a while. Keep talking. How long will you be in the UK?”

“Five weeks,” he replied, plucking at the edges of his blanket.

“Wow. That’s a nice, long vacation. Do you work remotely?”

“No, I’m in between jobs at the moment. I used to be in sales and marketing, but it wasn’t for me. I did not sign on to be a charlatan. Plus I had an issue with a coworker who tried to steal my ideas. I’m not made for subterfuge.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to hide a smile ’cause…subterfuge. Ha. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard anyone use that word.

“So, accounting?”

“Numbers don’t lie,” Theo pronounced. “I was hired at an accounting firm a couple of weeks ago, but they don’t need me until March first. It’s left me with an unprecedented two months off and no excuses to avoid flying to visit my parents. I flew to Seattle to spend the holidays with my dad and his wife, and now, I’m off to visit Mom and Alistair.”

“For five weeks.” I let out a low whistle. “My parents are cool, but I’m not so sure I could spend that much time with them. Or with anyone, really.”

Theo chuckled. “I would say that about most people, but not my mom. She’s easy company. I feel terrible that I haven’t visited her yet. She comes to California frequently, and it’s well past time I reciprocated. But as you can see, I’m a terrible flyer. I thought a little time in between my trans-Atlantic trips would help—thus, the five-week stay.”

“That makes sense.”

“Yes, so this is probably my one and only trip to England. It’s far too stressful.” He gulped.

“Honestly, you get used to it,” I assured him.

“If you say so.”

“I do. Trust me, I take this trip more often than I should admit. There’s always some important occasion or a milestone birthday party my family insists I can’t miss. Last year alone, I went home for my grandmother’s ninety-fifth birthday, a christening, my dad’s retirement party, and Christmas. My mom has started her squeaky-wheel ‘you should come home for Easter too’ campaign, but that’s not happening. Family…” I griped without heat. “What can you do?”

Theo’s smile wasn’t as shaky this time. That probably had something to do with the turbulence settling into an even, mellow rhythm—but I liked thinking our little repartee helped too.

“Sounds like you’re close to them. It must be hard living so far away,” he commented.

“Sometimes, yes. But I’ve lived in London for a while, and I’m used to the distance now.”

“Why did you move overseas? Business? What do you do?” He twitched his nose adorably and held up his hand. “Feel free to tell me to cease and desist personal inquiries at any point. I tend to go from nervously silent to nervously talkative, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess that I’ve tipped into chatty mode. Which is…kind of your fault since you suggested conversation in the first place.”

My side-eyed WTF look made him chuckle. And damn, that was a sweet sound…warm and melodic.

Christ, I was a fuckin’ sap. Instead of reminding him that conversation would never ever in a million years have been my idea, I shrugged nonchalantly.

“I just didn’t want you to puke,” I replied.


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