before getting sweet-and-sour chicken and beef and broccoli. Then I piled egg rolls on top, along with a spring roll. When I got back to the table, I saw the waiter had brought us two waters and a small dish with sliced lemon. I squeezed one into my water before stirring it.
“That’s all you’re eating?” I asked Daniel once he returned to the table. He had a small portion of fried rice and a few pieces of General Tso’s chicken.
“We all don’t have a golden metabolism like yours,” he responded, sitting across from me.
“You look great to me,” I said without thinking.
His eyes lifted to mine before he looked away. Dinner was awkward after that. We ate in silence while families talked around us. I was sure we looked miserable in comparison.
“Do you think we’ll be sleeping in my car tonight?” I asked before eating a spoonful of ice cream with rainbow sprinkles. After finishing my plate, I’d made a trip to the dessert bar.
“Looks like it.” Daniel withdrew his phone from his coat pocket and tapped the screen. “I’ll let Mr. Crawford know what happened since we won’t be able to make it to work on time tomorrow. When we’re done here, we can see if there’s a Walmart nearby so we can grab blankets and anything else we need.” Blue eyes met mine. “Unless you want to try going to a different town and seeing if we have more luck elsewhere.”
“Closest town is a forty-five-minute drive,” I said. “And in this weather, it will probably take us close to two hours to get there. I checked the GPS earlier, and all the routes were in red, so traffic on the few roads still open is at a complete standstill.”
“You have a sprinkle on your lip.”
I nearly asked him if he wanted to wipe it off for me, but thank god I caught myself before I did. I ran a napkin over my mouth before eating one more bite and pushing the bowl away from me.
“I can’t believe you ate ice cream when we’re in the middle of a snowstorm. That’s like eating hot soup in the heat of summer.”
“There’s no wrong time for ice cream,” I said as we stood from the table and walked to the front counter to pay.
We got back into the car and left the restaurant parking lot. Streetlamps lined the street, and strings of lights hung in store windows. Despite the frigid temperature, people were walking down Main Street, bundled up in heavy coats, scarves, and winter hats as they held steaming cups between their gloved hands. Some gathered in a courtyard decked out in Christmas decorations. Others walked from store to store, carrying shopping bags.
“At least it stopped snowing,” I pointed out, resting my head against the window as I peered out into the night. My eyes grew heavy, and I closed them before snapping them back open. A sign caught my attention. “Hey! What’s that?”
“What?” Daniel asked, alarmed.
“Turn right at the next stop sign,” I said, feeling more alert as I sat up in my seat and shook off the sleepiness. “I think that sign said there’s a bed-and-breakfast up the road.”
“I doubt there are any rooms left if there is.” But he did as I said anyway and turned right. The road narrowed slightly, and the buildings became fewer and fewer as we drove, the busier part of town fading behind us.
“There!” I pointed to a large sign on the left. “Hensley Manor. Looks like it’s down that road.”
Daniel turned onto a single lane road that was more like a long driveway with trees lining each side. After about a minute, the road opened up to a clearing, and nestled right in the center was one of the most beautiful houses I’d ever seen.
“Wow,” I said, leaning forward to look at it. “You think it’s haunted?”
“Just because it’s a Victorian house doesn’t mean it’s haunted.” He parked beside a black SUV.
“Do you believe in ghosts?” I unfastened my seat belt.
“No.”
“Then you have no say in this matter.”
He snorted and opened his door.
I decided to go in with him instead of waiting in the car. I was sure the place was beautiful during the day, but at night, all I could think about were all the trees around us and how it felt way too much like the setup for every horror movie I’d ever seen. And with how shitty my luck was that day, a psycho in a hockey mask