I chuckled, slowly recovering from my shock. I needed to contact Dylan and thank him for this gift, but part of me still wasn't ready. I missed him so much, and I knew if I allowed it to happen, I'd lose myself in Dylan Grant. But losing myself before I'd even figured out how to live would do neither of us any favors. I had to be strong.
A quick text would work though.
Me: Your gift arrived. Thank you. That day meant a lot to me as well.
This was my new phone with a brand new number. I hadn't given the new number to anyone yet. Dylan was the first, and it was my way of gifting him something as well: an opening back into my life. If he wanted it.
Baby steps.
Dylan: Look outside.
Outside? There was a lot ofoutsideon this estate, but I headed for the front entrance first. When I stepped out the door, it was to find my second surprise of the day. In the driveway with a huge white bow on top of it, was a dark burgundy SUV—a familiar looking one, similar to the car Dylan had driven me to the hospital in.
Half in shock, I walked forward slowly and ran my hand lightly over the shiny front. A letter had been stuck under the windshield wiper, tucked into the exact same envelope that had come with the plants.
The car was so massive I had to get on tiptoes to reach it, then I dragged it back to me. Mary was at my side again, and she shook her head. "How did he get this delivered through our security gates?" She didn't sound impressed. "I need to get them reprogrammed again."
I didn't bother to argue with her, but I knew that nothing would keep Dylan out if he wanted in. After pulling out the expensive cardstock, I found a single line again.
For the worst day of my life, which led to finding out the best news of my life.
Jesus. I was actively crying now, tears streaming down my cheeks. For the most part, I didn’t want to remember when Ruth and Ben had died and I’d almost lost our baby, but I really did appreciate his acknowledgement that he was happy to find out about his child.
Right? This had to mean that.
Swiping tears from my face, I swallowed heavily and pulled myself together.
"He shouldn't have done this," I said with a sigh. "Not only do I not want his overly expensive gifts—I don't need them—but he can't just go trespassing whenever he likes."
Mary's brows rose at my rapid change of emotions, but she didn't disagree. Instead, she nodded and folded her arms. "Well, you’d better set some boundaries with him quickly, girl. I get the feeling Dylan Grant is fairly used to doing whatever the hell he wants, consequences be damned."
“You seem to have his personality nailed,” I said drily. I paused after that, giving her a chance to confess to me if she wanted.
She didn’t, shrugging like she’d just been guessing. I sensed the day wasn’t too far away when her past and present would collide—thanks to me and my baby daddy. I hoped it would provide a little closure or, maybe, a new beginning for both of them.
Only time would tell, but I'd be at her side no matter which way it went.
"Hey, how about we go shopping?" Mary suggested. "Your awful brother all but strangled the magic right out of Christmas these past few years. You're well overdue for some of the Christmas experience."
Her idea stunned me speechless for a moment, but she was right. My mom had loved Christmas, and the whole house had always been decorated like a Hallmark movie. But since her and Dad had died... Christmas had no longer existed in the Lawson household.
"Sounds great," I agreed with a wide smile. "I'll go change."
Mary nodded. "Excellent. I'll get those gates reprogrammed and meet you out front. We can take your new car."
My brows shot up in surprise, and she just shrugged.
"I know you’re confused about how to act—where to be independent and where to let yourself be cared for. Let me tell you that you can do both. I promise. You won’t lose yourself by allowing Dylan to treat you like the queen you are.”
I had to swallow hard again, my hormones in no position to handle this conversation dry-eyed. Mary was so right about how I’d been feeling.
She placed her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “In truth, your man bought you a very thoughtful, meaningful gift, if your tears are anything to judge off. It'd be straight up rude to return it. Go on, dress warm. I'll take care of things down here." She shooed me up the stairs, and I ran up, feeling like each step was made of clouds.
This was quickly turning into the best Christmas in history.
* * *
When I returnedback downstairs in a pair of jeans, a warm top, and flat boots, Mary was standing on the front steps with her phone to her ear. Her face was drawn, and her fingertip tapped nervously on the back of the phone as she listened and murmured the occasional sound of agreement.
