The Magician's Angel by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

Christopher found himself unaccountably nervous as he strolled up the walk to Edward’s house.

He’d seduced—and been seduced—by men from one side of the country to the other. In back alleys and backstage, in train depots and rail cars, in hotels and saloons.

But this was new. He’d never gone to someone’s home before. Never been invited into the space they spent days, weeks, months, years in. A place filled with memories, which would soon include a memory of him. It felt intimate, in a way he’d never experienced before.

He glanced down at the wooden angel in his hands. “Bring me luck again, old girl?” he asked. As always, the knowing smile on her carved face seemed to answer him.

A fresh wreath of holly hung on the door. Christopher knocked, his belly tying itself in knots as footsteps approached from the other side. Then it swung open, and he found himself trying not to laugh. Edward stood there with a wooden spoon in one hand, sleeves rolled up, and wearing a frilly apron.

“Very domestic,” he said.

“The apron belonged to my mother.” Edward plucked at the lace. “I found it in a closet after Father died, and there didn’t seem any point in getting another. Of course, I didn’t think I’d be wearing it in front of anyone.”

He held the door open for Christopher, then shut out the cold evening behind them. The warm air of the little house was redolent of roasting goose, burning candles, and fresh-cut greenery. The parlor lay immediately to the left of the front door, and the dining room to the right. The kitchen sat behind the dining room, at least judging by the bright light streaming from the open door.

“I wasn’t certain if you’d decorated, so I brought my friend here along,” Christopher said, holding up the wooden angel.

Edward took her from him. While Christopher shucked off his hat and coat, he said, “You use her in your act, don’t you?”

“Only around the holidays, but yes. You can set her on top of the tree, or hang her from a bough.”

“I don’t have a tree,” Edward admitted sheepishly. “There was no time to fetch the ornaments from the attic and get everything else done. When I left the house this morning, there wasn’t a single scrap of holiday decoration to be seen.”

Christopher looked around. In addition to the wreath on the door, the mantle in the parlor was embellished with swathes of fir boughs. A sprig of mistletoe hung above its door, and a holly centerpiece held court on the dining room table. “You…you went to this effort for me?” he asked in wonder.

Edward blushed. “I thought a bit of cheer…”

“I love it.” Christopher found himself grinning uncontrollably. He took the angel back from Edward and carried her to the mantle, where he nestled her among the greenery. “There. She seems pleased, don’t you think?”

“I do.”

Edward had stopped in the doorway beneath the mistletoe, so Christopher took the excuse to kiss him. “Dinner smells incredible.”

Edward stepped back with a smile of his own.

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