The long game is the only play.
So I go and stare out the window at the glittering downtown street, pretending I’m not going to be completely unproductive today while I count the seconds until she’s back in my arms.
When she finally walks in,the house smells like rosemary and roasted chicken—the chef left half an hour ago.
"Gabriel?"
Her voice echoes through the foyer.
"Kitchen," I call back.
She walks in. Cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes bright.
Her bag drops on the counter and she walks straight to me. Arms wrap around my waist, face burying in my chest. She breathes me in while I hold onto her like I haven’t seen her in a year instead of just a few hours.
Fuck, I hate being away from her.
And she seems to hate it just as much if the way she’s clinging to me is any indication.
"I’ve got good news," she says, voice muffled against my shirt.
My arms wrap tighter around her, trying to absorb her into me. To make us one. Cold air clinging to her hair fills my lungs.
"The coffee shop meeting?" I ask.
She pulls back, looking up. "How did you... oh. Jaxon told you I left."
"The house tells me when the door opens, Blair."
"Right." Annoyance doesn't register. Just excitement. "It’s a local boutique chain. They want to do a holiday pop-up series. It’s perfect. It fits the new brand."
"I'm proud of you," I say.
And the words are true.
"It feels good," she admits, taking the glass of cider I offer her. "To make something happen on my own. To know that Ryder didn't destroy everything. To know I’m building up the legitimate side of the business to give cover for the other things we discussed."
She takes a sip.
Her throat works as she swallows and my hand moves up to lightly wrap around it so I can feel her pulse and the movement.
Bit by bit, I start to relax. My irrational fears retreat into the background again. It’s clear she doesn't know. She doesn't know about the marriage. How could she? She doesn't know about the baby that might be growing inside her. She doesn't know that I watched her meeting on surveillance cameras today because the thought of losing her makes me physically ill.
"He can’t destroy you," I say. "You’re too incredible for that. My son just cleared the way for something better."
She smiles. "For you?"
"For us."
Dinner happens at the island. She talks about the project, about her ideas for this but also for the Savage Society. She hasn’t signed anything official yet, but after the holidays I’ll make it happen. Listening is easy because she’s so passionate. Her whole aura lights up like a star.
Later, in bed, she curls into my side.
Darkness fills the room outside of the glow from the Christmas tree.
Sleep takes her quickly, and while I don’t know for sure there’s a baby, she’s starting to sleep more. But I stay awake.
My arm wraps around her waist, hand resting flat on her stomach.
