Page 67 of The Christmas Blueprint

“Careful, slight step up here.”

Sophia tried not to be affected by walking so close to Killian, but that was a losing battle.

“Killian, I have a lot to do to set up.” She tried to put an edge in her voice more to break his spell on her than to actually get him to change his behavior. Killian was so often light-hearted and could easily take a mundane moment and make it fun like he had during the Christmas Walk.

He’d clowned around in an elf hat, helped customers in her store, going too far as to model several cashmere scarves for a woman’s sister who ‘had his coloring.’ He never seemed nervous or out of his element, and he’d taken care of her—insisting she take a break, and bringing her dinner to share with Harlow upstairs in her apartment—while he, Riley, and her small staff including the interns took care of the customers who wandered in.

“You can open your eyes now. Ta-daaaah,” his voice rumbled in her ear.

Sophia opened her eyes. Killian stood before her, latte in hand, which he pressed into hers.

“It’s the Jinglebell Mocha—the special for today,” he said. “And now for the surprise.”

He stepped aside. Immediately, she missed his closeness, but then she saw what he’d been hiding.

“Whaaa…how…when?” She nearly lost her drink, but his hand was there, under hers.

“What do you think?”

She heard a trace of nervousness in his voice.

“I…I…when did you… How?” She didn’t know where to look first—the large, gleaming rustic-looking tables on casters, the galvanized tanks with plants, the Christmas lights, the wood and copper metal dividers that carved up some of the vast room’s space and the two drop-down wagon-wheel chandeliers that hung above from the massive center beam above the tables placed near a temporary stage. And there was a wall of art—Elaine True’s.

“You sneak,” she breathed. “How did you get her to agree?”

“She said it was your idea.”

Sophia still felt dazed. “It all looks incredible,” she breathed. “But…”

“I spent my own money,” he said quickly. “Well, Riley and I did, and she and I did most of the labor, but it doesn’t have to be permanent. I meant it to be more like a sample, a visual aid, a…” He ran his hand through his hair, and now he looked more nervous than she’d ever seen him. “You hate it.”

“No it’s…it’s amazing. So simple and yet…you captured the feeling of what I envisioned.”

Harlow jumped up and high-fived him.

“I had a really good guide,” he said, encouraging her farther into the building.

“Wait, are those my drawings?” She felt the blood drain from her head and then surge back up again. “On display?”

“Yes,” Killian said, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as Sophia walked toward the collection of her six watercolor sketches of all the possibilities for the former grain storage building. “I framed them for you.”

“I see that. But these were rough. I know you said I should have them on display but I thought maybe tucked away in a notebook or on a table,” she said faintly. “Not so…so public. The sketches were…”

“Visionary,” Killian said. “Your sketches will help people see the potential of the Mill Market and the park and the riverfront path to downtown.”

“Killian.” Sophia’s mouth felt dry and she swallowed hard. “I appreciate—”

“You’re welcome,” he said, holding both of her hands with hers. She knew she should speak, but she couldn’t think of any words when he was touching her.

“You believe in me,” she looked into his beautiful green eyes.

“Always,” he said quietly.

“This is you busting out.”

But it was so much more than that. “This is us busting out of our own as well as other people’s expectations.”

“This is us,” he said solemnly.

---