Page 89 of Goode Tidings

"Um." Eden toys with her earring as she thinks. "Maybe? I'm not sure yet."

"What's making you sound like that?"

"Sound like what?"

"Hesitant."

Her bashful gaze meets mine. "I've sort of been thinking about what you said at the coffee shop, about starting my own business." She shrugs and looks down. "It sounds crazy. Who's going to buy luxury wrapping paper from a brand they're not familiar with?" She fiddles with the corner of the blanket. "Blossom is safe. Blossom already has a share of the market."

It sounds like she's trying to talk herself out of wanting more. If that's what she believes is best for her, then I'm all for it. But I have the feeling it's not. With two fingers under her chin, I urge her gaze up. "Blossom doesn't have custom wax seals."

A soft smile curls her lips. So often over the past two months she's given me that smile, and I could only bask in the warmth of it. Now, I can touch her, and I won't miss the chance.

My rough hand cups her soft cheek. "Most of all, Blossom doesn't have Eden Madigan. They need you, not the other way around."

"No," Eden immediately refutes my statement, her head moving ever so slightly in my hand. "There are other artists on staff. Other artists clamoring to work there. I'm sure they've replaced me with someone great."

"They've likely hired someone to fill your role. But they haven't replaced you. You're irreplaceable."

Eden lets her head lean into my hand, heavy. "Why do you believe in me the way you do?"

"I've spent too much time being confronted with the ugliness of life. People need more beauty around them. Someone once told me that sometimes, the point of beauty is simply for it to exist, not for it to be used. But if you don't share the beautiful things you make with the world, how will the world know it exists?" Her hair falls forward, brushing over my palm. "I've seen what you can create, Eden. Your talent is special."

"I wouldn't know where to begin. It's dizzying to think about."

"Lucky for you, you love a good list."

"Did you see⁠—"

"Your No More Sad Man Hermit list? Yes. It was out on the dresser." Lying there with a pen beside it.

She grins wryly. "I suppose I can retire it now."

"Do you consider me soft-launched?"

"I'd say yes. You've faced your ex, stepped out of your comfort zone, and started going into town."

"And I've spent time with a woman."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "That wasn't on the list, unless you're referring to the date I was supposed to find you."

I smirk. I took the liberty of using the pen lying beside the piece of paper, but she doesn't know that yet. "Then I suppose you were successful. I still don't want to make small talk with Marie Claire though."

"You don't have to." She glances at the computer. "I should write Angelique back. Tell her I'll take the weekend to think about it."

I nod, and Eden grabs the computer. Her fingers graze the keyboard, and a minute later she closes the screen. "Done," she announces. She sits back, lighter now that she's delayed this recent development.

"Good. What do you normally do at night?"

Eden narrows her eyes and pokes me in the chest. "My grandma hobbies."

"Do you want to show me?"

"You want to watch me knit?"

"Sure."

She gives me a look that says she doesn't believe me, but she gets up off the couch and leaves the room. She returns with a bag that says I knit because punching people is frowned upon.