Her stomach gripped, and so did a place much lower, but words were impossible. She could only stare at the man as he slid one heel off her foot. The sensation arrowed straight up the tendon of her leg and found every nerve along the way. He removed the second shoe with the same care and set both neatly beside the chair.
Her chest gave a heave she couldn’t control. He didn’t move a muscle to move away or stand.
They looked at each other too long.
He didn’t seem broken. Quiet, sure. Guarded. But nothing like the man who’d arrived months before, eyes hollow, his shoulders carrying more than muscle.
He was better.So muchbetter. It was almost weird, him still being here. And she forgot—for that thundering heartbeat—that therapy was the reason.
She forgot the role she played and lines she had to keep.
The thud of footsteps in the hallway saved her from falling further into that thought…or into Decker’s earthy brown eyes.
“Delivery!” someone called from the hallway.
“I’ve got it.” Willow popped up faster than she should have without shoes. Decker stood too, as if staying with her was only natural.
Outside the doors of the dining hall, a young man from the florist held two big boxes and a long cone of paper wrapping. “Order for the baby shower?”
“That’s us.” Willow accepted the boxes—centerpieces, she hoped—and handed them to Decker, who stacked them in one arm with ease.
The delivery guy held out the long cone last. The open top revealed a single long-stemmed rose, deep crimson against the winter light spilling into the hallway.
“Thanks.” She blinked at the rose.
“Have a good day.” The delivery guy walked away in a faint echo of footsteps.
Warmth curled in Willow’s chest as she cradled the rose. “Aww. I bet this is for the expectant mother. Carson is such a doting husband. He’s going to be agreatfather too.”
Decker’s posture changed, just the tiniest shift, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop a degree.
“Your name’s on it. It’s for you.” His voice was tight.
No. No, we’re not doing this today.
There was no space in her head for it, no space in herlife.
Her hands weren’t just full—they were spilling over. She was thesolutionaround here, not theproblem. She wouldn’t be a person who required…handling.
“It’s probably a shower thank-you,” she said lightly, setting the rose on the closest table without opening the card tucked inside. “Or from one of the vendors. People do kind things.”
Decker looked at the long-stemmed rose like it was a tripwire. “You need to open the card.”
“Later.” She lifted the top box from the ones he still held and pretended her fingers didn’t shake.
Before he could pursue things further, she got back to work, not even seeing the beauty they’d created so far. If she ignored the gift, it would go away.
It had to.
Without glancing at Decker, who followed her to one of the long tables, she opened the box to find tissue paper cocooned around three gorgeous centerpieces—sage eucalyptus, white roses and winter berries. Perfect.
“Willow.”
“Baby shower first.”
She kept moving. After all, she was down to the wire on time. She unpacked the second box and found the wreath for the gift table, ignoring all the questions pushing into her brain.
If she didn’t ask, it wasn’t real. If she didn’t say the worry out loud, it would dissolve into the bustle of the day. It was only a rose. Only honey. People sent nice things sometimes. People meant well.
