“The right person would be steady and dependable. A partner who sees you just the way you are and loves every tiny piece. They would need to be a lighthouse for you to come back to after you’ve braved the seas.” His voice slips over me like the softest velvet caressing my skin. “And they would need to be protective of you. Because you spend so much time protecting everyone around you that you need someone watchingyourback.”
A raw ache grips my throat as his words bleed with the truth of exactly how I feel.
I’ve been adrift for months. Cast out to sea, hopelessly floating and searching for land.
For a lighthouse to guide me home.
“They should know that you like to push people’s buttons sometimes,” he continues with a small smile. “But it’s easier to just roll with it.” A breathy laugh trembles through me, and his molten eyes dip to my mouth for a beat. “Also, they should love your tigerlike stubbornness and unpredictability,” he teases with a wry grin.
“Tame the tiger,” I add.
His expression sobers. “No, Lena. You don’t need to be tamed.” My heart leaps in my throat as his fingers graze my ear to tuck a loose strand of hair behind it. “You’re perfect just the way you are. Wild, free, passionate, warm.”
Each word lands in my chest like a promise.
Like they’re a vow he’s swearing his life on.
You’re perfect just the way you are.
Tears push at the edges of my eyes, and I try to blink them away. But one makes it past my lashes and tumbles down my cheek.
He has cut straight to the core of who I am and what I need, and it seemed effortless for him.
Like he has sliced right through the seventy-five layers of cellophane protecting my heart.
He’s just revealed who I am underneath all of it, and I’m breaking through. I’m gasping for breath.
I’m seeing things clearly for the first time.
I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be adrift.
I want to land in the arms of the person who sees me exactly as I am.
Gavin.
A shiver racks my shoulders before I ask, “Do you know why I took Brandon down that hallway three years ago?”
Breaking his gaze from mine, he pulls his hand away to slide it down his thigh. “No. Why?”
My throat feels coated in sand, but I force my answer out. “Because ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ came on.”
Recognition flickers over his face as he turns to me.
“And I asked you to dance, but you said no.” A scorching fire sears through my chest at the memory of that heartache. “Well, yourudelysaid no.”
The sound of his gruff words echoes in my ears like it was just a moment ago, shouting over Frank Sinatra’s voice.
“That’s an awful idea, Lena. No.”
He shakes his head and lets out a deep breath, a grumble mingling with the air.
“It broke my heart,” I tell him. “It kinda brokeme, I guess, and I wanted to get back at you. Or forget about you. I’m not sure which one. So I kissed Brandon.”
The couch dips as he turns his body my way, leaning a shoulder into the backrest. “Do you know why I said no, though?”
Trying to keep him from seeing my pain, I stare at the stockings on the mantel, eyeing his next to Penelope’s where she demanded it hang.
“It was just a dance. I wasn’t asking you to …” I drift off, letting the unclear end of that sentence hang between us before I add, “I danced with a lot of people that night, made a lot of good memories. But nothing stands out as sharply as your refusal.”
