Page 113 of Hero for the Holidays

“Why the seventh?”

“I don’t know. I was being dramatic. A little inferno reference goes a long way. But I can’t actually be expected to remember what all the levels were.”

“Yeah. Sounds boring.”

She laughed. “But seriously, what a dick.”

“Yeah. Well, your mom too. Like, I get it. I get wanting to maybe get your kid to focus on something that feels a little more realistic. But there’s a way to do that without implying that they aren’t special. There’s a way to guide without... At least I think there is? I wouldn’t really know.”

She touched him. “You do a good job at that.”

They looked at each other, and she knew a moment of pure regret. That this wasn’t her life. That they weren’t lying together in a bedroom intheirhouse. That they hadn’t raised their daughter from the cradle. Because maybe it would’ve been this? Maybe? That they could never know.

She felt tears threatening, and she shoved them back.

“You did better than your dad,” she said. “You’re a cowboy, you’re expanding King’s Crest and you’re a good father. So I guess you have your dream too.”

“In a fashion,” he said. Then she knew he was thinking the same thing. It was on the tip of her tongue to say maybe they wouldn’t be so toxic now. To say maybe they should try. But it felt so high stakes. If they tried and they failed, then Lila would be wrapped up in that failure. And she knew how awful that was.

Landry went and bought snacks and drinks down in the lobby, like they might need fuel. And they did. They didn’t talk much for the rest of the night. Instead, they seemed desperate to burn impressions of themselves into each other’s skin. As if they hadn’t done that already. As if that wasn’t so much of who they were.

And why they hurt so damned bad. But being together was good. It made her want to ignore the ways they were dangerous.

Tonight, in this hotel, maybe she could just embrace the flames.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THENEXTMORNINGthey ordered room service—or what passed for room service at that particular hotel, which was basically a bundled-up version of the continental breakfast—and ate in bed together.

It was a luxury. Being together like this.

Landry had never spent the whole night with a woman. He had never wanted to—other than Fia, that was. He had dreamed of it when they were younger. When he’d held her after they’d made love, and he’d stroked her hair, he’d imagine waking up in the morning with her, the sunlight streaming in and making that red gold hair light up.

And this morning he had it. And her. She was naked, with the sheets around her waist, clutching the cup of coffee in her hand.

She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“The shelter opens at nine,” she said sleepily.

They hadn’t slept very much. He didn’t regret it. Not a single hour they’d spent clinging to each other.

“So we have a little time.” He leaned in and kissed her. She put her coffee down, and he proceeded to push the limit of the time they had left before they had to leave.

They both dressed slowly. He got them both some coffee to go from the little dining room before they headed out to the shelter.

When they got there, they walked through the front door. “I’m Fia,” she said to the person sitting at the front desk. “I called yesterday.”

“We spoke on the phone,” said the girl with piercings sitting at the front desk. “You’re the ones who are here for Sunday.”

“Yes,” said Fia. “We’re here for Sunday.”

Sunday was the most beautiful dog he’d ever seen. She was big and happy, her tail wagging wildly the minute she saw Fia.

“I think you look like someone she knows,” he said.

“Stop,” she said. When she looked up at him, her eyes were full of tears. And he was pretty sure that he loved her.

Yeah. He was pretty sure he had. All this time.

---