Page 92 of Goode Tidings

He startles, the laptop swaying. He rights it and looks up at me. Exhaustion pulls at his eyes, visible to me even in this dim light. Still, he runs them over me. Slowly. I turn ninety degrees, and wiggle my ass.

A hiney greeting. He laughs.

Settling beside him, I say, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

He presses a kiss to my temple. "You didn't. I mean, you did, but it's ok. I was focused on"—he glances at the screen—"a project."

"A project? In the middle of the night?"

"The middle of the night was a while ago. I'd call this early morning. "

He's right. The time in the upper right corner of his computer reads 5:28.

"Have you been up all night?"

He nods. "Let me show you what I've been working on."

"Did you solve world hunger?"

"I wish," he answers, pressing a shortcut on his keyboard. A website shows now. "This is a prototype. Not nearly what it could be. I just wanted to show you what's possible." The background is petal pink. A banner across the top has different clickable words. The center of the screen reads Eden Paper Co. Est. 2026.

My shock chases away any lingering tiredness. I lean back so I can look at Callum. His tired face sings with hope.

My palms rise, pressing at my chest. "You built a website for me?"

"It's not published. This is the preview. But, yes."

I look back at the screen. I can't form words. If I had them, I don't think I could move them up from my throat. I tap on the trackpad, navigating across the banner and clicking on the word Shop. A new page opens, and several images load.

Each one is accompanied by a clickable word. Luxury paper. Wax seals. Digital products.

"Digital products was just an idea," Callum hurries to say. "A non-physical item. An instant download file. No shipping."

I'm still quiet, and I don't mean to be. I'm too stunned to speak. I'm not sure I'm even breathing properly. I click on Wax seals. The page it takes me to is filled with photos of my wax seals, the ones from my Devonport chocolates tin.

"Terrible photos, I know," he says in a rush, as if he's worried I won't like what I see. "I took them with my phone."

I want to sob.

My gaze turns, capturing this handsome, kind, thoughtful man working so hard for me. Foregoing sleep. Firelight licks over his skin, flames flicker in his eyes. "You don't have to love it. I don't mean to put pressure on you, so⁠—"

He falls quiet when I shake my head. Carefully, I take the computer from his grasp and stretch to place it on the table. He must know my intent, because he grips my waist and hauls me into his lap.

My hands find his cheeks, my thumbs stroking his rough stubble. His bleary eyes are still bright with the anticipation of sharing his hard work with me. My mouth finds his, showing him my gratitude with a long, wet kiss. His head tilts up, hands digging into the crease at my thighs, and I love it. Mouth drifting over his, I whisper, "This is the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me."

"It's not a big deal," he murmurs, dipping in for another searing kiss.

"You lost sleep over it."

He toys with a strand of my hair. "Tonight is not the first time I've lost sleep over you."

My hands pause their roaming over his chest. "You've lost sleep over me?"

"Consistently since you arrived."

"Why?"

"A beautiful brunette barged into my life dressed like an Andes Mint and set my world on fire. That's the type of reckoning that'll make a man sit up and figure himself out."