Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
And the man with his hand currently clasped around my wrist, dragging me through his very opulent, historical family manor house, had both of those things in abundance.
Hmm.
Why was I even thinking about that?
Was it because we were friends? Or because we’d been so close last night? I’d never pegged Stardew Valley as the one thing to truly break the wall between us, and I’d say weirder things had happened, but I wasn’t sure they had.
Ever.
Or would ever.
Seeing him pixel fishing was pretty wild.
The private living area of Buckley Manor was both vastly different and completely the same as the public space. It didn’t make any sense, but at the same time, it made it most sense.
The general look of the place was the same—old wooden floors creaked underfoot while high ceilings lent an air of drama with every step. Every door was the same large, ornate ones that had been present in the other area of the house, and the panelling on the walls of the seemingly endless hallways could have been copy-pasted from anywhere else in this massive old place.
The aura was different. Somehow, despite the same lofty ceilings and extravagant general décor, it was cosier. The walls were adorned with framed photo galleries of everything from staged family photos and graduations to casual moments with tongues being poked out and paint-covered toddlers. It was a stark contrast to the large paintings in the other part of the manor where the participants were dressed to the nines in their Sunday finest, adorned with jewels and chivalric orders of centuries past.
Not that it wasn’t still incredible to see, but there was a gentle warmth to the private living area that wasn’t present in the rest of the manor.
Although the renovations probably also had something to do with that.
“Is it hard to live here when it’s open to the public?” I asked after Ben had seated us at a grand table that could seat at least twenty people.
Thankfully, we were sitting opposite one another at one end.
“Hmm, somewhat,” Theodore said, resting his chin on his hand as he peered over at me. “For the most part, we try to avoid the whole family coming here during tourist season. We close from October first to April first every year, so we tend to all gather at Christmas and sometimes come during other times. Sometimes it’s unavoidable.”
“Like your grandmother’s birthday, right? I remember your grandfather coming here at the end of August every year before.”
“Yes. Her birthday is August twenty-eighth, and she likes to be here for it, so we close for the final week of the month so she can enjoy her birthday in peace.”
“That makes sense. I bet it’s pretty here in the summer,” I said, turning to look out of the window. “It’s so green and colourful already.”
“You should come one time.”
I glanced over at him. “What reason would I have to come here in the summer?”
“I’m sure Gramps or Dad would be happy to concoct one for you.” His lips tugged to one side.
I laughed, reaching for my glass of water. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll book a stay in one of those lake cottages this summer once I’ve gotten out from under the thumb of my needy, overbearing boss.”
He flinched, touching his hand to his heart. “It hurts.”
“You’re so melodramatic.”
“I told you; it breaks my heart to think you’re leaving me.”
“Please, you just don’t want to have to learn how to work with someone else.”
He paused, then slowly nodded his head, sitting back in his chair. “It’d be remiss of me to deny that, but honestly, I just can’t imagine working with anyone but you, Chloe. I don’t want to imagine working with anyone but you.”
Oh.
My heart fluttered a little more than it should at his words.
Living with him was making me soft.
What utter nonsense.
“You just want to keep me by your side because I do things like knot your tie and interrupt my dinner dates with my best friends to call you a car to take you home,” I replied, shooting him a firm look. “You know you won’t find anyone else like me.”
He sighed. “Yes, so why must you leave me?”
“Because you make me do things like knot your tie and interrupt my dinner dates with my best friends to call you a car to take you home.”
“What if I tell you I’ll never do it again?”
“I’ll grab a camera because there’s clearly a flying pig outside.”
“I see me telling you that we’re friends has really unleashed your sarcastic side.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I wouldn’t say it’s unleashed my sarcastic side. More that I’m just speaking my mind instead of holding my snarky comments in.”
“You mean your usual witty remarks have been you holding back? Fascinating.”
“There’s no need to be patronising. This is why I’m resigning.”
The door opened, and I turned in that direction. A young woman in a black dress with a white Peter Pan collar entered the room with a trolley that held two plates covered by those metal tea-cosy looking things.