Chapter Sixteen #3
He laughed before he put his hand on the doorknob and stopped. “Are you going to the Christmas light festival on Christmas Eve when they close the street off. It’s a lot of fun.” Then he shrugged. “I’ve always gone with my parents. I’ve never had someone else to go with, so . . .”
“I think going together sounds like the boyfriend thing to do, don’t you?”
His grin was back and he nodded again. “Yes. Okay, I’ll . . . I should go. Please tell Ro I said thank you for dinner.”
“Anytime. Next time I’ll cook . . . or order takeout. Probably safer. But dinner again, yes?”
“Okay.”
“Drive safely,” I said. “I’m already looking forward to your poem tomorrow. No pressure or anything.”
He laughed. “I already know what it’s going to be.” With a grin and bright eyes, he ran out into the snow. I watched him start his truck before I closed the door, and when I turned around, Ro was standing there watching me.
I swooned. Actually freaking swooned.
“He is a bit cute,” she said.
I laughed. “Isn’t he just? Oh my god.”
Her smile was half happy, half sad. “You are so in love,” she said quietly.
“I think I am, yes.”
“I’m happy for you, Win.”
“I’m happy for me too.” I sighed dreamily. “Thank you for everything tonight. I’ll bring us home dinner tomorrow night as repayment.”
“Sounds good.”
“And you have to help me figure out what the hell I’m supposed to get him for Christmas.”
She gasped. “You haven’t gotten him anything yet?”
I grimaced. “Well, I have but . . . what I ordered for him doesn’t feel right now. I got him some noise-canceling headphones. You know.” I shrugged. “It can really help when he gets overwhelmed.”
“And now you don’t think that’s a good idea?”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I can still give them to him, but I don’t want him to think I’m trying to fix him.
Because he’s not broken. Now I understand him better.
He just needs reassurance. The headphones might still be okay as a side gift, but I need to get him something .
. . more. Something better. Something that tells him how grateful I am for every little line of poetry he sends me.
How happy he makes me, that tells him, shows him how I feel. ”
“It’s five days till Christmas, Win,” she pointed out.
I made a pitiful noise. “That’s not helping.”
She gave me a look that told me to stop being a whiny baby and let out a long-suffering sigh. “You really are the Winter of our discontent.”
I gasped, hand to my heart. “Ouch.”
But then we googled ideas. Did we find anything?
Nope. Not one thing.
I went to bed confused and a little deflated, but I woke up excited for his morning poem.
Unlike my ability to think of the perfect gift, he did not disappoint.
“To touch can be to give life.”
I had to google that quote, and boy, did he ever keep surprising me. Now he was quoting Michelangelo, and my heart . . . well, my heart was his.
“Good morning, Evie,” I said as she came into the store. “Ro, are you sure you’re okay to take these?”
She was juggling the online-order packages. “I got it all under control.”
“Yeesh, it’s cold out there today,” Evie replied. She then looked at Ro. “I can help you if you want. I’m not doing anything today. I’m free as a bird.”
“No, thank you,” Ro said. “It’s fine. I’ve got it.”
The door opened again, bell chiming, and in walked Toni.
She was the mail lady who came in every weekday at the same time, like clockwork.
She was a tall woman, big-boned, and handsome in a womanly way, if that was even a thing.
“Morning,” she said in her brusque voice, handing over my mail.
Which was mostly window envelopes, my very least favorite kind of mail.
“Morning, Toni,” Evie said.
“Hi,” Ro said softly, sweetly.
It made me stop and look at her.
Toni gave Ro a nod, looking at the packages she was holding. “Need a hand with those? I’m heading back to the post office now.”
“Oh,” Ro said, her cheeks blooming with pretty pink apples.
Uhh . . . excuse me? I beg your finest pardon . . .
“That’d be very helpful,” Ro said, voice soft. “Thank you.”
Toni took all but one package and Ro followed her out the door like a lost little lamb.
And I was left standing there . . .
Ummm.
What the hell just happened?
Evie laughed. “Your face.”
I pointed to the door. “You saw that, right?”
“Oh, yes. Your aunt Ro is so cute.”
“Cute?”
“Sure. In a hot and trendy sexy momma kinda way.”
I stared at her, unblinking. Not computing. “Uhhh. What?”
Evie laughed again. “It’s true. And Toni is a sweetheart. She has the mail run and owns a small ranch out of town. A bit rough around the edges, but maybe Ro’s into that.”
I think I need to sit down . . .
I slumped onto the stool behind the counter, my hand to my forehead. “I need answers,” I said, specifically not answers to what Ro might and might not be into. “Like what the hell just happened? And when? And why she never told me. And what the hell?”
Evie chuckled, seemingly unperturbed, gesturing toward the storeroom. “Are the boys here today?”
“No, they’re at home. It’s too cold, and Bright’s entered into his feral-gremlin era, I’m afraid.”
She sighed. “Then I do have nothing to do all day.” She looked around. “Need a hand with anything?”
And it struck me then what a great idea that could be.
“Yes. Evie, do you want a job?”
She stared. “Here?”
“Yes, here.” I nodded. “Casual, probably just for the rest of the holiday period, maybe an afternoon here or there in the new year. You won’t need to open or close the store for me, or anything like that, but it’s been busy and I have things I need to do, and I rely on Ro for far too much.
And you’ve been a great help at the center, Gunter speaks so highly of you, and you look after my boys—”
“Yes,” she cried. “Yes, I would love that! I leave for art college in Billings in the new year. So I need some money, and the experience, of course.”
“Perfect!” I clapped my hands together. “I will get some paperwork and forms for you to fill out.”
She did a happy, excited little buzzy dance. She was so cute. “Yay!”
“Okay, lemme show you how the point-of-sale system works . . .”
Two hours later, she’d filled out all the paperwork, served some customers, restocked the shelves, and straightened and tidied everything, and had a pile of flyers for our first book club meeting in her hand, ready to be mailed out.
She was a gem, and I wish I’d thought of asking her if she wanted a job sooner.
Like I wish I’d thought of a lot of things sooner.
I took out my phone and shot Ro a text.
I just gave Evie a job over the holidays, and she’s crushing it
That’s great news
Then it got the better of me . . .
Okay so you’re going to tell me everything about your crush on Toni because watching you blush like a schoolgirl has been burned into my brain
Her reply made me roll my eyes.
I know not to which you’re referring, kind sir
I will have details, all of them, young lady
I didn’t blush like a schoolgirl by the way
I scoffed at that.
Do I need to remind you that I have camera footage in the store?
Winter Theodore Atkins
I grimaced at my phone, because getting full-named was never good.
I need to ask a favor
Ask away
I want to ask Deacon if he has any free time this week and I’ll need you to look after the store for me. That okay?
Of course. Doing anything exciting?
I’ve thought of the perfect gift idea
Oooh, spill the details
You first
Winter
Theodore
Atkins
I laughed and typed out a reply.
Let me check with Deacon. It might not be able to happen yet
Sigh. Fine. Remember dinner tonight. Pizza sounds great
Done
Then my phone beeped with a text from Deacon.
Dad reminded me that our clinic is closed Christmas Eve, so I have the day off. I know the store will be busy so I can help if you need
I could have hugged my phone.
Yes please and thank you! You’re the sweetest boyfriend ever for offering. I really appreciate it
Then without thinking, I added a heart emoji and hit send before I could stop myself.
I mean, it was just an emoji. It didn’t have to mean anything . . .
Except it did.
I wondered how he’d take it. I wondered if he’d overthink it, just as I was overthinking it on my end.
“What’s wrong?” Evie asked. “You’re staring at your phone in horror. Is everything okay?”
“I sent him a heart emoji,” I whispered. “By accident. He’s seen it but hasn’t replied.”
“Is it a lie?” she asked. “I mean, I send heart emojis all the time. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but if you love him . . .”
“I do,” I said.
“Then don’t revoke it. If he questions it, tell him.”
I grimaced; my impending spiral was imminent in three . . . two . . .
My phone beeped with a message.
From Deacon.
I may have let out a high-pitched keening sound that concerned a customer enough to look at me.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”
I turned my phone around for Evie to see, and she grinned when she saw the heart.
Then, for some stupid reason, my eyes burned and I wanted to cry. “I’m fine,” I said again, waving my hand in front of my face. “Totally fine.”
Thankfully I had customers to help, which was a great distraction, and I managed to get a lot done in my office while Evie manned the service counter.
I kinda lost track of time when there was a quiet knock on the door.
I looked up to see Deacon standing there, smiling, nervous, cheeks flushed.
He was wearing that blue coat again with a sweater underneath, his hair tousled, no doubt from the beanie stuffed into his pocket.
My god, he was so handsome.
I stood up. “Oh, hey.”
“Hello. I seem to be making a habit of stopping in unannounced. I apologize if it’s inconvenient.”
“No, it’s perfect,” I replied, breathless for some reason. “I’m always happy to see you.”
He swallowed hard, fighting a smile. “My dad told me to finish early. I was unhelpful, again, apparently.”
“The heart emoji?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I sent it by accident but I’m not sorry. I mean, I panicked at first, but like Evie said, if it’s true, then don’t tell him it was a mistake.” I shrugged. “Because it is true.”
He grinned at me, then at the floor, then at the wall, then back at me.
I went to him, not touching, but close, and with a courage I didn’t even know I had, I held up my palm.
He stared at it, then ever so slowly traced his finger across my palm and then my fingers. He blinked a few times quickly, then slid his hand across mine and threaded our fingers.
I didn’t even dare breathe.
It was wonderful and beautiful, and . . . it was everything.
I wanted to tell him in actual words how I felt.
Not just an emoji, not what the heart represented, but my actual heart.
But then he pulled his hand free and opened and closed his fist a few times, then wiped his palm on his sweater. He laughed. “Makes my skin feel all funny.”
I chuckled too. “Same.”
He swallowed hard again, still grinning. His eyes were the most fantastic blue. “I want to get used to it.”
My eyes did that burning thing again, and I tugged gently on a button on his coat. “You can practice on my hand any time you’d like.”
So he took my hand again, holding it in both his. He pressed our palms together again, sliding our fingers through, but then he scrunched his nose up in the cutest way that told me he might have had enough hand-holding for now. But then he linked our little fingers.
“Pinky promise,” I whispered.
He chuckled. “I’ve never . . . I’ve never pinky promised anyone anything before.”
I grinned at him. “Then let’s make it your first. What do you want to promise?”
His eyes met mine ever so briefly, a flash of striking blue, before he stared at our hands again. “I promise to try.”
“Try what?”
He winced. “To be a good boyfriend. To try and hold your hand. To try and make you happy. I won’t always get it right, but I will always try.”
Oh, my heart.
“Deacon,” I murmured. “I don’t want you to change a single thing. I want a boyfriend who is just like you, just the way you are.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“I want to hold your hand. I want to do that.”
“Then we’ll work on it together,” I said gently. “If it’s what you want.”
He nodded. “I do.”
“No rush though, okay?” I said. “We have all the time in the world. To me, you’re already the greatest boyfriend ever, so everything else is a bonus.”
His eyes met mine and held my gaze, so intense and honest it made my heart squeeze. “Okay.”
“My pinky promise to you,” I said, holding up our hands, still joined by our pinkies. “Is to make you as happy as you make me.” Then I remembered. “Oh, and about our Christmas gifts. I had an idea.”