“All grumpy and broody and a hard-ass.”
“News flash—thisis who I am, baby. Like it or don’t.”
“Fine, I’ll take the ten minutes, but I need this to be over. I need to be able to make phone calls and use my own cell and live like a normal human being. Willow can’t even text me recipes, or tell me when she’s popping by here. This is getting ridiculous.”
“I know.” He seems to deflate. “I agree. They’re not telling me much, so I can’t tell you how much longer this might go on. I’ll get you a burner phone so you can at least talk to me and Willow. I didn’t expect it to go on this long, honestly.”
“Okay. I need a shower.”
I go to walk to the stairs, feeling frustrated and dejected, but he takes my hand and pulls me against him, into one of those perfect hugs that always melt me.
“I’m sweaty and gross.”
“You’re never gross. Before you get in the shower, I have something to show you.”
I frown up at him, and then he’s guiding me through the house. But he doesn’t lead me upstairs. Instead, we walk down a hallway, and he stops in front of a closed door.
“Go ahead.” He gestures to the door, and I frown up at him. “Open the door, Lena.”
I turn the knob and push the door open, and then feel my jaw drop, and I haven’t even walked across the threshold.
This used to be another guest room, but now it’s ...not.
The windows in here face the lake and the mountains, and all the coverings have been removed. There’s a big desk with all my art supplies in front of it. Against one wall is a small couch with fluffy pillows and a throw blanket. It’s colorful and beautiful, and I turn to Gideon.
“What is this?”
“The beginning of an art studio,” he says, looking inside. “It’s too cold for you to sit outside to sketch. I know you still do in the morning, but it has to stop until spring, baby. I don’t want you to get sick. This way, you can still work and look at the mountains, but I know you’re safe and warm.”
He gave me an art studio.
“I know you’ll want to hang stuff on the walls and finish furnishing it the way you want, so I kept it simple for now. You’ll have exactly what you want in here.”
I turn into him, bury my face in his chest, and hug him close.
“Thank you,” I mutter, the sound muffled by his impressive muscles.
“You’re welcome.” He presses his lips to the top of my head. “I want you to be happy here.”
“Iamhappy. Now, I’m even happier.”
His chest rumbles with his laugh, and I turn away to run my hand over the desk.
“This is beautiful.”
“It was my mother’s.”
I spin around and find him smiling softly at me.
“It was in their office. She always had a desk in front of the window so she could work on things while Dad was at his desk. There was so much space in that house, she could have had her pick of a room for an office, but she wanted to be with Dad.”
I swallow hard and blink back tears.
“You don’t have to let me use—”
“It’s yours. You’re not using it, Lena. It’s yours to keep.”
I shake my head slowly, but he walks to me and tips my chin up.
