I didn’t have time to dwell on anything because with those words, he dipped his hand in his pocket and came out with a little gift box.
“Here, open this.” He opened my palm, placing the gift there as he spoke.
My hand trembled. What was it? Jewelry?
I mumbled, “You didn’t have to,” and pulled the ribbon off in a swoop. It went fluttering to the floor like my heart had done less than twenty-four hours ago.
Carefully, I opened the box to find a silver key ring inside. It was a large circle with a few charms hanging off of it—a Labrador, a B, a snowflake—and an unknown key.
“It’s beautiful,” I said with a lump in my throat.
I leaned against the counter and AJ moved in again, but this time he didn’t cage me in. He stood in front of me, keeping his arms at his sides, and leaned in so he could speak in a hushed tone by my ear.
“I got it at the mall,” he said. “Picked the charms by myself. That’s the key for my place, so you can come by anytime you want. Morning, noon, or night, because you never have to ask. I always want to see you.”
The breath whooshed out from my lungs. It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to me, and I felt slightly tingly, but more prickly from guilt than happiness—guilt over feeling more tingly last night with Lane.
And not melting at the words just spoken to me.
I told myself I had to do something sweet in return, so I grabbed AJ and pulled him in for a hug, sealing my lips with his. Asking for open passage with my tongue, I swept it through his mouth and hoped to feel those melty feelings I thought I should be feeling.
Then my doorbell rang, and Brooks immediately went nuts. My quiet corner of the country had never been so busy.
I yelled, “Who is it?”
From the other side of the door, I heard, “It’s Oscar from the resort, Bess. I have a delivery.”
“What?” I mumbled to myself, and then called Brooks away from the door.
When I pulled the door open, Oscar from shipping and receiving stood out in the cold with a medium-sized box in his hands.
“Hey, Oscar. What’s this?” I asked while beckoning him to come in from the cold.
“I don’t know,” he said as he stepped inside. “Management asked me to run it over.” With a shrug, he handed the box to me.
Taking the package, I noticed the red ribbon dusted with silver sparkles and the small gift card on top. As I turned it over in my hands, assessing its weight and trying desperately not to shake it, I said, “Oh. This is strange, but thanks.”
Oscar stepped back, opened the door, and crossed the threshold as he called out, “’Bye,” but I didn’t really notice or care.
Because I was pretty certain I knew who the box was from, and I was equal parts scared to death ... and dying to open it.
