Page 66 of Fake It Till We Fall
I shed my own parka and boots by the door and wandered to the tree, inspecting the delicate ornaments when she returned with two glasses.
“The tree looks beautiful, Harper. Willa must love it.”
“She does.” Even in the dim light, Harper’s smile was bright. “I can’t thank you enough, Grayson. And not just for the tree. For…” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly.
“You don’t need to thank me for anything.” I led her to the couch. “You know I’d do anything for you, Harper. And for Willa. You don’t need to?—”
“I know.” She stopped me. “But this…you…you’ve gone above and beyond.”
I slipped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “And I’ve enjoyed every second.”
She chuckled and shook her head. “It has been fun.”
And then the laughter disappeared, as she tilted her head toward mine.
My hand cupped her cheek, leaning in close.
“Stay,” Harper whispered. “Stay tonight.”
My chest tightened. I wanted to. More than anything, I wanted to spend another night with Harper. But the sound of the door downstairs and the creaking on the stairs made us both jerk upright.
Willa bustled in, looking more spry than I’d seen her in weeks. Her cheeks were red from the cold, her scarf half undone, as she hummed a carol.
“Don’t mind me, you two.” She winked in our direction and set her purse on the table. “Pretend I’m not here.”
Harper laughed. “How was your night, Grandma? You look like you had fun.”
“I’ll tell you,” Willa started. “The senior center is a lot more fun than you might expect.”
“Oh, yeah?” I sat up.
“Absolutely, Grayson.” Willa turned to me, the smile brightening her face. “Those ladies know how to have a good time. And the homemade Irish cream that Tilley brought was delicious.”
Harper burst out laughing. “Oh, I see. All thefunat the senior center is booze fueled.”
“Harper Bennett.” Willa put her hands on her hips and pretended to look offended. “I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with having a few festive drinks to celebrate the occasion.”
“Oh, Grandma.” Harper put her arms around her grandma in a big hug. “You know I’m teasing.”
“The real question is, did you bring any of that Irish cream home with you?”
“You know I did, Grayson.” Willa winked over Harper’s shoulder in my direction. “Are you staying?”
Again, I felt the flash of need, but it didn’t feel right. Not yet.
“I want to,” I said honestly. “But I think I should probably get home. I promised Quinn I’d make the cinnamon buns for brunch, and I need to get them ready tonight or they won’t be raised enough.” It wasn’t a lie. Traditionally, I had been in charge of the overnight cinnamon buns for our family Christmas brunch. Which was why I’d prepared them before heading out earlier. “But I’ll see you both tomorrow afternoon for dinner.”
I kissed Willa on the cheek. She gripped my arms and looked me in the eye. “Merry Christmas, Grayson.”
“Merry Christmas, Willa.”
I slipped away, with Harper following me to the back door. “You’re sure you don’t want to stay?”
Nothing sounded better than spending the night in a single bed, the love of my life in my arms. Except maybe knowing that it was finally real.
Finally forever.
My hand slipped into my pocket, my fingers wrapping around the ring box.
