Gossamer in the Darkness (Fantasyland)

“I can assure you, the grooms know the storm is coming, so if they’re worried about the damned horses, they’ll get the damned horses. They’re horses! They can handle some rain.”

“After dragging your very healthy behind over what has to be at least a hundred miles?” I retorted. “I mean, I don’t wish to fat shame, Dad, but they’ve served us, now it’s our turn.”

His face turned purple.

A throat was cleared at the door.

Loren stood there, again leaning, now against the jamb.

Wonderful.

The papers rustled frantically as Dad-not-Dad hauled himself out of the fancy yellow settee.

“Loren, my boy, we didn’t have a chance to greet each other earlier. It’s lovely to see you again.”

Loren studied Dad curiously, like he was a speck of dirt in this pristine, but very attractive, sitting room, and he had no clue how he managed to be missed by the maids.

In our very brief acquaintance, Loren had shown some dickish tendencies, but now I was thinking I might like the guy.

“I’m afraid the tea’s cold,” Dad-not-Dad went on gamely. “Shall we ring for some more?”

“I don’t drink tea,” Loren declared.

“Really? What do you drink?” Dad-not-Dad asked eagerly. “Obviously, my darling Maxine will need to know all your preferences.”

I looked to the ceiling and mouthed, Oh my God.

“Maxine!” Dad snapped.

I righted my head and caught Loren now studying me, not like I was a speck of dirt, but like I was a fascinating specimen, and he didn’t know what to make of me.

At least the fascinating part was good.

“Yes, of course, my lord, please, I beg of you, share all your preferences,” I said to him, lifting a hand and placing it on my chest for added emphasis of how deeply I desired this knowledge.

Loren’s eyes fell to my hand.

They stayed there.

He smirked.

Well, there’s one.

I’d taken off my jacket.

I was baring cleavage.

And he was a tit man.

Thank goodness I had ample in that region.

More thunder, closer, and the darkening room lit with lightning.

I dropped my hand, turned back to the window and saw the rain come sluicing down.

This wasn’t an afternoon thunderstorm.

This was a monsoon.

And the horses had their heads ducked, all eight of them on the two carriages, as the deluge pelted them. The wind was tearing at their manes and tails. And I could swear to God, I saw one of them shivering.

I whirled on Dad-not-Dad.

“Are you going to call a damned groom?” I demanded.

My not-father dropped all pretense, and his face twisted.

“Watch that mouth, lady,” he snapped.

I dropped my chin into my neck, mouthed, Fuck it, then stormed toward the door.

Loren still lounged there.

He was lit with another flash of lightning as thunder rattled the house, and he was hot even with spooky lighting. He was also now watching me with open interest, but I didn’t take the time to enjoy it or do anything about it.

I swept past him.

“Maxine! Where are you going?” Dad-not Dad shouted.

I didn’t answer.

But I wasn’t going to ramble around a humongous house looking for the grooms when the horses were fifty yards away from my person and I knew where the goddamn stables were.

I had no clue how to drive a carriage, but if Scarlett O’Hara could drive one, by God, I could too.

I stomped out into the rain, and immediately regretted my decision, not only considering my updo was instantly ruined and it had taken Idina a million years to curl and arrange my hair that morning before we left the inn where we’d spent the night last night (I would never take electricity for granted again). But because a monsoon even in Disney Come to Life was no joke.

However, I was rolling, and there was no going back now.

“Maxine!” I heard yelled over the rain and wind.

And it wasn’t Dad-not-Dad.

It was Loren.

I was going to look over my shoulder at him when, instead, I stopped dead because his fingers wrapped around my upper arm pulled me to a halt.

“Get in the house,” he ordered.

I blinked up at him through the rain. “I’m taking care of the horses.”

“Get in the house,” he repeated.

I pulled at my arm. “The horses need to be taken to the stables.”

He dipped his face right in mine, like, an inch away, and I didn’t have a chance to process how sexy his lashes were when they were spiky with wet as he barked, “Get in the godsdamned house!”

Oh no he didn’t.

I yanked my arm from his grip. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

I then turned, and as fast as my tight skirt would allow me, I ran toward the carriage.

This was not fast, and I was probably moving like a geisha, so, unsurprisingly, he caught up with me.

When he did, what he didn’t do was drag me to the house.

He picked me up.

Yes, me and my rather generous ass.

He then pretty much tossed me high into the driver’s seat of the carriage.