Page 124 of Revelry
My eyes popped open. Staring down at the treasure he’d placed in my hand, the object grew blurry as I took in what it was and my eyes watered.
“Tate,” I choked and shook my head.
He gripped my hand. “Live your dream, please? For me?”
I stared back down at my hands, shaking my head. The cream-colored rectangular cards with stylish embossed black writing readLiving The Cream Ice Creamery, a small illustrated ice cream cone in the corner. It listed a website and, on the back, had my name and email address.
He’d made me business cards.
I pressed my hands to my eyes, feeling overwhelmed. All I’d thought about the last few weeks was taking the space from Cathy’s gallery and turning it into an ice creamery. And this felt like the biggest sign of all. Tate believed in me, had always believed in me and fostered my passion, not scorned it and triedto get me to bury it like Gary had. He wanted me to live my dream and had invested in me.
“Too much?” he asked, gently coaxing my hands away from my face.
I shook my head, giving him a wobbly smile. “Perfect, it’s always perfect with you.”
He unsnapped my belt and pulled me onto his lap, brushing my rebellious curls back from my face.
“You can do this. You can do hard things.”
I nodded. He was right. I would never know unless I tried and although it had only been one event, the fair at Redemption Ranch had been a success. I’d spent my whole life feeling beaten down by others and it was about time I started living for me. Tate had faced his biggest fear and conquered it. He’d taught me how to fight for myself and now, it was my turn.
“Okay,” I replied.
His eyes widened. “Okay?”
“Okay!” I cried, laughing.
He chuckled, his silver eyes swirling with delight as he kissed me again.
I pushed him away. “I don’t have time for kissing, I have a business to set up! Take me home, I need to do research on what to do. And investigate this website you got me!”
My knee bounced with anticipation the entire way home and he kept glancing over and chuckling the whole ride home. When he pulled onto the driveway, I went straight to his house, not mine. I didn’t want to be apart from him. I wanted to be in his home, taking up space in his life because now I knew; hewantedme there.
I tossed myself down on the couch before I noticed something.
“God, Tate. Why do you still have this?” The Christmas tree couldn’t possibly look any deader than it did. The tinsel hanging limply and glowing in the light.
“Honestly?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, couldn’t bear to throw it away.”
It was sweet, he was such a sweetie really. But still.
“It’s gross, isn’t it? Yeah, okay, I hear you, I’ll get rid of it,” he said, immediately removing it from the living room.
While he did that, I was on my phone researching what to do. The website he’d bought was a shell, so it was ready for me to go and design it which gave me a thrill unlike anything I’d ever known, my creative instincts flaring to life.
I wasn’t sure how long I was playing around until I could feel him hovering beside me.
“What’s up, sugar?” I asked.
He was leaning against the door frame, his hands tucked into the back pockets of his dark jeans, his sweatshirt making him look so damn snuggly.
“I know you have so much to do and it’s super exciting. But I wanted to show you something and I can’t wait any longer.” His eyes lit with a fire I had missed, awareness sizzling down my spine and anticipation flooding my veins.
I slowly uncoiled myself from the couch, his eyes running lazily over me, heating and he held his hand out to me. I slid my palm into his and he led me out of the room. But when he walked us right past the stairs, I faltered.
“Tate?” I asked, confused as he led me into the kitchen. We stopped in front of the countertop which was lined with mixing bowls and spoons, an ice cream maker and different types of storage containers. Ingredients littered the space too, like a mini ice cream store that he’d made just for me.
“I grabbed some bits to help you get started. Is this everything you need?” He gestured to what he’d prepared. I looked at theingredients and utensils, then at him, standing there looking sheepish, his glasses perched on his nose, his dark hair mussed and kissable lips pulled into a frown.
