"I thought my new bike was my Christmas gift."
"That was just a decoy," I reply with a grin, "to make this a surprise."
When I walk inside, I'm immediately met with the warm scent of freshly baked cookies.
"Cookies?" I say, inhaling deeply.
"Your mom gave me her recipe," she says with a playful smile. "She said they’re your favorite."
"She must really like you," I say, raising an eyebrow. "She doesn’t share her recipes with just anyone."
The table is set for two. There are lit candles, cloth napkins neatly folded into gold napkin rings atop elegant place settings in a soft cream with gold edges.
"What's for dinner?" I ask, slipping out of my coat and placing it on the back of the couch.
"Roasted chicken with a butter herb sauce, baby potatoes, and fresh-baked rolls."
"So not only are you drop-dead gorgeous," I say, wrapping my arms around her, "but you're also a great cook."
She smiles, her eyes glimmering with something deeper. "I've always loved cooking. When Beth and I were in our last foster home, I’d cook for the whole family."
"You were fourteen!" I exclaim in surprise.
She shrugs. "It was either I cook, or we didn't eat," she says with a small smile, the weight of the memory passing through her like a shadow.
She looks away for a moment, as if trying to shake off the memory, and heads toward the kitchen. "I wasn’t cooking four-course meals back then," she adds, "but I learned the basics when I was twelve. Our foster family back then was an older couple—empty-nesters. They were kind, and Mrs. Patton loved to cook, so she taught me as much as shecould while we were there. It was the best seven months we had."
She pauses, her hand resting on the counter as she exhales softly. "Her husband had a heart attack, though, and they couldn’t continue fostering. So, off we went to the next family."
"I'm so sorry, Elle."
"Don’t be," she says, meeting my gaze. "It’s all behind me now. I’m here with you, with Beth and Hannah. Being separated from Beth was a living nightmare, so to say I don’t wish things could’ve been different would be a lie. I wish your family had adopted both of us. My reality would be different now. But what I have here, with you, is something I never want to give up. I love my reality, and I love you."
Chapter 29
Danielle
"I love you, too," Cal whispers, closing the distance between us. His lips find mine, and a sweet, delicious cocoon of passion, love, and need wraps around us, creating a warmth that pulls us closer, until there's nothing but complete surrender to this moment.
"I thought dessert was supposed to come after dinner," I say, my eyes lingering on his as the kiss ends. "I'm sure the cookies are delicious, but nothing could ever be as good as the way you kiss me."
He responds with another kiss—long, sweet, and intense.
Pulling away, he smiles. "You might change your mind after you taste the cookies," he teases. "They're really good."
I laugh out loud. "I highly doubt it."
As we sit down to eat dinner, I decide to ask something that's been on my mind, unsure of how to approach it.
"Cal," I begin. "Hannah's gift, the necklace... it’s something that really touched me. But I feel like an imposter. I’m not her mother."
Cal smiles gently, nodding as if he understands exactly what I’m getting at.
"I took Hannah shopping for her mom a couple of weeks ago," he replies, leaning back in his chair. "We found the mother-and-daughter necklace, which she loved. I agreed it was a great gift. When we got ready to pay for it, she looked up at me and asked, 'What about Elle?'"
He smiles softly as if recalling the memory.
"I reminded her," he continues, "that we had already agreed on getting you that cashmere sweater you’d loved the last time we all went out. Remember?"
