Page 99 of When You Were Mine

Chapter Fifteen

“You havegotto see this,”she called.

Trevor hauled the last couple of bags from the elevator and joined her in the top-floor suite.

“Isn’t this incredible?” she asked.

He knew she meant the three-hundred-sixty-degree windows, the fluffy white comforter, and the rustic wood furniture, but he was captivated by her.

The way she smiled so unreservedly undid him. Because it meant she was no longer encumbered by anger and resentment.

It meant she truly forgave him.

And that threw the door open to the possibility she’d take him back.

“What do you think?” She gestured around the circular room.

He was distracted by a fierce need to reach for her, kiss her senseless, and tumble her onto the bed, but she wanted an answer, so he paid attention to his surroundings.

Maybe he’d expected a nautical theme for an oceanfront guesthouse because he was surprised to find a treehouse. A fabricated tree took up one corner of the room, and plate glass windows let in the night sky. The snow covering the skylight muffled sound and created a cozy sense of well-being in the middle of a raging storm. “It’s nice.”

“Wait, look inside.” She showed him the knot holes in the tree, all of them glowing with a buttery light.

Each held a different scene in a fairy’s life. “That’s cool. My grandkids would get a kick out of this.” In one, a fae with translucent wings wore an apron and held a rolling pin, flour dusted on her cheeks. In another, a family sat at a table sharing a big meal. A dog had a whole turkey in his mouth, and the dad chased him.

“Here.” The moment she relieved him of some of the bags, she got busy setting up a picnic on the café table. “Wow, she thought of everything.” She held up napkin-wrapped cutlery. “She even wrote little notes telling us what each dish is. This is smoked lamb.” She pulled more cartons out. “Peas, cabbage, and this is flatbread.” Unwrapping it, she showed him the lattice-work design of the round, thin bread. “It’s so pretty.”

Overcome with happiness, he could only nod. To be alone in this tiny space, to have her relaxed and warm and…sweet… It was almost more happiness than he could bear.

She continued pulling out food. “Pickled herring. Ginger cookies. And look. Christmas ale. I hope she gave us a bottle opener.” She rooted around the depths of an insulated bag. “Got it. I should seriously hire this woman. An hour ago, she found out we were stranded, and she pulled all this together. She’s amazing.”

He realized he was just standing there, watching her, and that kicked him into gear. He set their purchases on the bed.

“You ready to eat?” she asked.

“Sure.” He joined her at the table.

“I’m going to have a little of everything.” She bit into the flatbread. “Mm. This is great. Oh, look, there’s a note. It says, ‘This is leaf bread. It’s an Icelandic Christmas tradition.’ Here.” She handed him a piece. “Try it.”

He took a bite but barely tasted anything. Wind battered the windows and whisked the snow this way and that, and even though they were insulated and safe, the storm kept up a threatening roar outside the walls of their tower.

“Are you okay? You’re being awfully quiet.” She set down her fork. “Look at me so focused on myself and my plans, I didn’t even think about yours. Are you supposed to be with Darby and her family tomorrow night?”

“No, I’m good. I have nowhere to be. I’d planned on spending Christmas with my son, but the kids are sick. In fact, that’s what prompted my engagement.”

“I’m not connecting the dots.”

“Eh.” He waved a hand. “Long story.”

She sat back in her chair and folded her hands across her stomach. “You won’t believe this, but I’ve got absolutely nowhere to be for the foreseeable future.”

He laughed. “True, true. Okay, well, I told you I retired so I could be a better father and grandfather, but it’s not going as well as I’d hoped.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just say I’m not sure of my place in the family.”

“You’re the grandfather. That pretty much makes you the Big Kahuna. The top dog.”

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