Page 59 of Can't Help Falling in Love
“I should tellyou: I think you’re so much more than you see yourself as.”
She turned, water sloshing as she faced him. “I like the way you see me.”
He couldn’t stop his gaze from roaming her body or the hunger that lodged in his chest. She was stunning.
Needing to lighten the moment, for both of their sakes, he gave her a smirk. “Me too. Especially right this minute.”
She laughed into their kiss and he was pretty sure they got water everywhere. At the moment, though, he couldn’t have cared less. All that mattered was the woman in his arms. The one who was quickly becoming someone he cared about a great deal.
Seattle Times
LOCAL
• Art festival needs further funding. How can you help?
• William Grand’s fiancée is a former all-star track athlete. What’s got themrunningfor the aisle so quickly?
• Restaurant pavilion to open in Queen Anne District
ENTERTAINMENT
• New brewery backed by hometown hero
• Grand family celebrates 50 years in business
Twenty-five
When Lexi got home Sunday afternoon, her mom was awake and working in her office. Leaning against the doorjamb, she watched as Gwen hunched over her worktable, a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose as she used tweezers to glue a tiny vase of pink flowers to a small table with a red-and-white-checkered cloth. If she took away the fact that this was how her mother buried her grief rather than facing or dealing with it, they were quite exquisite creations.
“I can feel you watching me,” Gwen said without looking up.
“That wholeeyes in the back of the headthing is no myth,” Lexi said, walking into the room and taking some time to peruse the displays.
Scenes from so many books her mother loved. There were little place cards in front of each. She added new ones all the time: Lyssa Kay Adams, Helen Hoang, Melissa Foster. Lexi hadn’t read most of the books her mom created scenes for. Not because she had anything against romance books—she loved reading—but she had more varied tastes. And didn’t want to plant unattainable wishes in her own head. But maybe the books were actually helping her mother find herself.
Gwen put down the items and turned, a grin blooming on herface. “Hello, my darling daughter. How was your night? And your morning?”
Lexi didn’t blush but she did laugh and dart her gaze away for a quick second. “Pretty spectacular, actually.”
Gwen walked close, pulling Lexi into her arms. “That makes me happy.”
Wrapping her arms around her mother, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and absorbing the moment. She just wanted her back all the way. But did a person every truly return to themselves when they’d lost someone who made them whole?
She didn’t want to feel that for Will. For anyone. It scared her that she knew, in the depths of her brain and heart, that she could become Gwen. She could fall in love so hard she never recovered.
“You okay?”
“I am. I love you, Mom. I hope you know that.”
Gwen squeezed, reminding Lexi how frail her body was. “I do. And I love you back.”
Lexi pulled away, grinned. “I brought apples.”
Gwen nodded. “I promised you pie. But I’m working on this.” A little flush of guilt washed over her mother’s cheeks.
“It’s okay.” Races weren’t run without laying the groundwork. Her mother still planned to make a pie. That was a good sign.
Lexi turned back at the door. “I’ll run out and get the stuff we need for piecrust. Should we do one of those already-made ones?” This conversation on the heels of an amazing night almost felt normal. The kind of normal she’d forgotten existed.
