“She didn’t knock it over,” Owen said, standing in the back of the store that was lit with the lamps Ava had acquired from some sale. She was using them for the party tomorrow but had clearly set them up already. Owen should probably consider keeping them as they suited the décor in the store, making it look slightly gothic and mysterious. “She just wanted to get you here.”
I looked around at the flowers, the bunches of hydrangeas and sunflowers in tall vases and urns, staged near the cases of books. I saw candles flickering and managed not to worry about them setting the store alight, knowing that Owen at least would have risk assessed everything. Then my eyes came to him. There he stood in front of me, arms folded, looking tense and expectant.
“This is for me?”
“For you,” he said. “It’s an apology.”
“I don’t need an apology.”
“I want to give one anyway. I’m sorry I upset you.”
I put my hands in my back pockets and felt vulnerable, as if he could read everything I had to tell even if I didn’t have the words. “I know you didn’t mean to. I’m sorry I’ve avoided speaking to you.”
“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice was gruff and tender, his honesty palpable. I realised he was scared that I’d reject him, that I’d tell him he’d blown it and I couldn’t let us try again, but that wasn’t my decision. I may get hurt in the future, things might not work out, but equally I trusted that this man would never intentionally hurt me and I wanted him. All of him, including his past.
I nodded. “I missed you too.” He needed to know, although I was aware my siblings had probably already informed him of this fact. And I had to let go of my fears and trust him not to crush my tender heart.
We stood, metres apart, watching each other.
“Do you want some wine?” He gestured to the glasses.
“No,” I said, stepping towards him. “I just want you. Let me have you.”
He caught me in his arms. “You can have me. As long as I get you in return.” I stilled for a second, letting his glorious heat seep through my clothes and under my skin, inhaling his scent, oaky and musty and male and then I moved back enough so I could start to undo the buttons of his shirt.
Owen groaned and held my hands to his chest. “Slow down, Payts,” he said, his voice muted and low. “Talk first.”
I raised my brows. “Really?”
He nodded. “I know I’m male but I have some degree of control. Unlike you,” he said, his chuckle echoing in the empty store. “It’s your birthday. I have presents for you. And words.”
He guided me over to the table and pulled out a chair, gesturing to the wine. I sipped at it, recognising it as one of the ones I’d pointed out as a favourite when we’d been at mine. He’d remembered, but that was him. He had no expectations for anyone other than himself, and remembering someone’s favourite wine was just the way he was made.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I said, slightly overwhelmed.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s me and…”
“I did it because it’s you and I want to make you feel special and do something to shows you that, although Ava and Claire did help. They knew you wouldn’t meet with me because you’d be too worried,” he said, putting three clumsily wrapped parcels in front of me and sitting down opposite.
“Claire was in on it too?”
Owen nodded. “Yeah. I wanted to cook you a meal but the logistics were a bit complicated, so we figured we’d get rid of the hangry first. Ava helped with the lamps and setting up. Claire was the folly. Will you open your presents?”
I looked up at him nervously. I felt uncomfortable opening gifts in front of the person who’d given them. My expression would give me away if I didn’t like them and I hated to hurt feelings.
“Payton, open them. I know you’ll like them.” His eyes were smiling and he held my gaze.
“Did my sisters help?’
“No. This is all me. Top one first.”
It was a simple white gold chain with a solid small coffee bean in the centre, easy to wear all the time. I went to put it on straight away, smiling, but not knowing what to say.
“Here, let me,” Owen said, stepping behind me and taking the ends of the chain with fingers I noticed weren’t steady. He was nervous. I was making this hulking, gorgeous man nervous.
Thumbs brushed the back of my neck, before hands rested on my shoulders, pressing down slightly and weighting me. I dipped my head to my left to softly headbutt his arm, then twisted to skim his skin. “Do you like it?”
