Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,16
the side, making me want to do just that.
“What?” Alice sat across from me, sipping on her own, a few eatables to share between us on a plate that had in the same writing “eat me” on it.
My eyes flicked over to the man behind the counter in an apron, which somehow made him even sexier, helping the four employees trying to keep up with the unrelenting demand.
Alice’s gaze also slid to the man working the bakery counter, and the moment she did, his piercing blue eyes met hers, as if he could sense her through time and space. A smoldering, sexy grin tugged at his mouth, his eyebrows going up; hunger filled the space between them. Palpable. Heavy. The dead would be able to feel it. It was like the whole world disappeared except for the two of them. I heard enough to know their sex life was extremely passionate. But even a look from that man and every person here, regardless of sex, was orgasming.
“They love the baked goods.” She turned back to me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glinting with utter joy.
I snorted. “Think the muffins these women next to me want to squeeze are not in the bakery case, but the ones standing behind it.”
“Can’t blame them.” She shrugged, peering back at Matt again, his eyes finding hers instantly through the throng of customers. He winked playfully.
They were so going to bone on the counter tonight.
“Jesus. You two,” I huffed, taking another drink. “I feel myself disappearing into the background as we speak.”
“What?” Alice’s brows narrowed as she fully faced me now. “What does that mean?”
“It’s not a bad thing.” I sighed, setting down my cup. “You two have this force, this deep connection. It’s like nothing else exists when you look at each other. It’s just…intense. Rare.”
Alice’s head tipped to the side. “What’s going on, Dinah?”
I stirred in my seat, now wishing I hadn’t come. My sister could always see through me, know when something was wrong, even more than I could with her.
“Nothing.” I picked at the half-eaten scone in front of me.
“Pulling the bullshit card?” She leaned forward, putting her arms on the table. “I know you too well. You are not the kind to spontaneously visit, though I’m glad you did, but I can tell something is bothering you.”
Nothing about this was comfortable for me. Until recently, I was the one who always had everything in order. I was the responsible, reliable one, and I couldn’t say this shift in our roles felt good. I wasn’t used to being the lost one.
“I’m going to get Matt to fill your cocoa with something stronger to get you to talk.”
“I might let him.” My attention drifted to the side, taking in the quaint bakery. I couldn’t describe what it was about the shops, but both stores had this allure. Sexy, magnetic, but also whimsical and beautiful. The bakery was painted in a cornflower blue, and teapots hung as lights above the white tables and chairs. Black frames lined the walls, each filled with crazy prints of tea parties and characters. Christmas lights and decorations were already up, giving it even a more magical feeling.
“This place is amazing, Alice. I’m so proud of you.” I cuffed hair behind my ear.
“Thank you, but we’re talking about you right now.” She didn’t relent.
I blew noisily out of my lips, sitting back. “When you were going through…that time.”
“You mean my breakdown.” Her lips quirked. “You can say it. It’s okay.”
“Funny, Mom and Dad can’t even get near the topic, and you seem so fine with it.”
“Because I am.”
“It doesn’t scare you at all?” My dark eyes met her matching ones. The older we got, the more I saw similarities between us. “That it might return…it could happen again?”
She pinched her lips, a peculiar humor almost twitching them. “Sometimes, Dinah, we have to go a little mad to find our way.”
“What?” Her response pushed at my lungs, trepidation pouring over me, stilling me in my chair. Her sentiment sounded so much like the vision in my dream.
“The quicker you go mad, the saner you will be.”
“Everyone may think I went insane, but to me it was the exact opposite.”
“Sense, you will come to see as the other one did, is all relative. What is sense if something is only sense to one, but not others? Is your sense the same as mine?” Frosty’s words wound down the back of my neck, prickling me with how close they sounded.