Page 82 of Just The Way You Aren't

"You look..." I start, but there aren't words for how stunning she is. How she manages to be both sophisticated and utterly herself at the same time.

"Like I might actually belong at The Plaza?" She smooths her hands down the dress nervously. "I keep checking the mirror to make sure it's really me."

"You look like you belong anywhere you want to be." I step inside, careful not to touch her yet. If I start now, we'll never make it to the fundraiser. "The committee chairs are going to be very disappointed."

"Why?" Her brow furrows with worry, and it’s fucking adorable.

I reach out and gently touch her cheek. "Because every donor is going to be too busy staring at you to bid on anything."

She laughs, and I realize that bright sound has become essential to my day. "Smooth talker,” she says, lightly smacking her palm against my chest. “I’ll bet you say that to all the nervous nonprofit directors."

"Nope. Just one." I pull the Tiffany box from my jacket pocket. "Speaking of which, I have something for you."

Her eyes widen as she sees the unmistakable blue box. "Damien, you already bought me this dress and these shoes that cost more than my rent?—"

"This is different." I open the box, revealing the pearl and diamond necklace I spent three hours selecting earlier today. Not because I couldn't decide, but because I kept imagining how each one would look against her gorgeous skin. "These are for tonight, but also... for you. For everything you do."

She stares at the necklace, then up at me. "I can't?—"

"You can." I move behind her with the glimmering gems. The necklace settles perfectly against her throat, the pearls luminous against her skin. I fasten the clasp, letting my fingers linger on the velvety nape of her neck. "Do you know what amazes me most about you?"

"My ability to avoid getting pet hair on this dress?" She's deflecting with humor, the way she does when she's overwhelmed.

"Your dedication." I gently turn her to face me, keeping my hands on her shoulders. "I've watched you spend hours making sure Mrs. Baumgartner gets to her doctor's appointments. Seen you stay late because Mr. Callahan neededsomeone to talk to about his late wife. You gave up your lunch break last week to help Mrs. Steinburg fill out Medicare forms for her son, Kevin."

"That's just doing my job?—"

"No." I cup her face, forcing her to meet my eyes. "That's who you are, Willow. You see people others ignore. You make everyone feel valued. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"

Her eyes shimmer. "You're going to make me cry and ruin my mascara that took me twenty minutes to get right."

"Can't have that." I brush my thumbs under her eyes, catching tears that haven't fallen yet. "Though you're beautiful either way."

Tiny chooses that moment to barrel into my legs, nearly knocking me over. He's got what looks like one of Willow's shoes in his mouth.

"Tiny, no!" Willow lunges for him, but he dodges, tail wagging furiously. "That's my backup pair! Don't laugh, this is a crisis!"

But I am laughing as I corner the dog against the couch. "Drop it," I command in my best boardroom voice.

To my amazement, he does. I shoot a shocked look over my shoulder at Willow. “I think I’m getting the hang of this pet thing.”

"My hero." Willow retrieves the slightly damp pump. "I swear he has a shoe fetish."

"At least he has good taste." I scratch behind Tiny's ears, getting enthusiastic face licks in return. Six weeks ago, this would have sent me running for hand sanitizer. Now it's just part of being in Willow's orbit.

I play a quick game of tug-of-war with him using one of his rope toys while Willow does a final mirror check. Spike waddles over for attention too, and I find myself sitting onher couch with both dogs vying for ear scratches. Before I know it, Mingo and Rufus have joined us, one cat prowling the back of the couch behind my head, the other forcing its way onto my lap between Tiny and Spike.

Willow emerges from the bathroom and breaks out with a laugh. "I can't believe Damien Langley is sitting on my secondhand couch risking his tux to make my little herd of wild animals happy."

"It's just a tux." I give them all one last pat and stand, brushing off the worst of the fur. "Besides, they say dog hair is a fashion accessory in some circles."

She arches a brow at me. "What circles would that be?"

"The only ones worth being part of." I offer her my arm. "Ready?"

She takes it, not even wobbling a little bit on her high heels. "As ready as I'll ever be. Thank you, Damien. For the necklace, for everything. For letting me be part of your life these past weeks."

The words hit strangely. She's thanking me for letting her intomylife? She's got it completely backward. "Thank you for completely disrupting mine," I say, meaning it as the highest compliment.

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