Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 21

Twenty minutes later, I shuffled down the stairs only to be met with two very conflicting scenes.

On one hand, Eleanor is splayed out at the dining room table, paperwork strewn about all around her laptop in a half circle, dressed immaculately in perfect business casual. It's odd not seeing her in a pencil skirt and pumps, but she still manages to pull herself together flawlessly. On vacation, no less.

On the other hand, you had Anne and Gemma in the kitchen, dressed in adorably cheesy holiday sweaters and casual PJ bottoms that barely covered their sockless feet, who were pulling out ingredients to commence what I can only assume will be baking cookies. Their outfits make me feel so much better about my ratty old college hoodie and ripped leggings.

Nick and Harry were sitting at the kitchen island across from Anne and Gemma, chatting easily over the gigantic spread of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. Both men look almost like twins, adorning simple black hooded sweatshirts and jeans. Nick has already started on his pancakes, while Harry is still shoveling the eggs in his mouth slowly, savoring every bite as he chews deliberately.

I couldn't help but pause to inhale, letting the homey scent of maple syrup fill my lungs, my stomach rumbling loudly in response, which unexpectedly announced my presence to the rest of the room. Everyone turns to look at me, while Harry just smirks.

"Mornin' Al!" he chimes gleefully. I can't help but give him a condescending smile as I close the distance, slipping up onto the barstool next to him. "Weather for today?"

I groan, looking around at the rest of the room and their confused, yet expectant faces. "Uh...cold?"

"Oh, come on! You can do better than that," he remarks, nudging my ribs with his bony elbow before shoving the rest of his eggs into his mouth.

"Fine," I groan, whining slightly like a torrid teenager. "Overcast today, high of sixty. Chance of flurries around midnight. That better?" I smirk. I'm pretty proud of myself for having checked it before coming downstairs.

"Oh, come on!!" he whines, matching my tone from earlier. "Do the voice!" He drops his fork onto his plate, the clatter startling everyone as they watch our exchange.

"No!"

I could feel my cheeks heating up, knowing everyone is watching us now in bewildered amusement. This was our inside joke, and judging by their faces, I'm not sure that everyone else got it.

"Come ooooooooon," he begged, slowly reaching up and starting to poke me in the side repeatedly until I had to slap his hands away. "You always do the voice."
He got one more poke in for good measure.

"Harold, don't be obnoxious," Eleanor chimes in, but her voice was distant. You could tell she was not paying attention. Harry ignored her.

"What voice?" Gemma asks, looking at both of us in confusion. I just sighed.

"Her weatherman voice," Harry chimes again, a huge smile on his cheeks, showing off those dimples of his that were quickly becoming my favorite feature. Come to think of it, his smile in general made me happy, and I had been seeing a lot more of it lately. He pokes me again with a smile. "Do it."

"I'm not doing it..." I reply, trying my hardest not to smile. It was impossible with Harry, though. He was just so damn adorable with that face he made, the half smirk full of mischief that he was always trying to half hide, but always failed. It got me every time.