Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
AUbrEY
The entire city feels different today. The holiday season has officially arrived.
Garland wraps around the black iron lampposts lining the sidewalks, oversize red bows flutter in the chilly breeze, and every store window seems to be competing to outdo the next with sparkling lights and elaborate holiday displays.
Even the air smells different as I walk by roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate stands.
I smile to myself as I glance down into Liana’s stroller.
“Someone’s going to steal the show today.”
She blinks up at me, completely unimpressed.
Her tiny reindeer onesie has little brown antlers sewn onto the hood and the cutest red nose embroidered right over her tummy. She keeps grabbing one of the antlers and trying to shove it into her mouth, making me laugh every single time.
“That outfit is way too expensive for you not to appreciate it.”
She responds with a happy squeal.
“I’ll take that as a promise that you will not destroy it.”
My phone vibrates in my coat pocket as I steer the stroller around a family admiring the giant ornaments hanging outside Macy’s.
Dean: How’s my favorite girl?
I grin as I type back a response.
Me: Which one?
The typing bubble appears almost immediately.
Dean: The tiny one.
I shake my head, laughing quietly.
Me: Rude.
I snap a quick picture of Liana sitting proudly in the stroller with one mitten halfway in her mouth before hitting Send.
A few seconds later, my phone rings.
I answer with a smile. “Hi.”
“What”—Dean pauses dramatically— “is she wearing?”
I glance down. “A reindeer.”
“I can see that.”
“She needed a Christmas outfit.”
“Rudolph had better be careful.”
“Why is that?”
“She will steal his spot as the cutest reindeer on Santa’s sleigh.”
I laugh playfully. “I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”
“You know me, babe. I make everything a competition.”
I smile so hard that my cheeks hurt. There’s something about hearing Dean laugh that never fails to brighten my day.
“We’re heading inside Macy’s.”
“Oh?” he replies softly.
“I’m taking her to meet Santa.”
“You’re what?”
I pull open the heavy glass door with one hand, carefully maneuvering the stroller inside. “I thought it’d be fun.”
“You were just … going to do that without me?”
I stop walking. “Maybe?”
“Aubrey.” His voice has that fake offended tone he’s perfected over the past few weeks. “My daughter is meeting Santa for the first time.”
“I know.”
“And you didn’t think I might want to see that?”
“I honestly didn’t think about it.”
Another dramatic sigh. “Don’t move.”
“What?”
“I’m leaving for lunch.”
I fiddle with my necklace. “You are not.”
“I absolutely am.”
“Dean—” I reply.
“Stay in line. I’m serious.”
He hangs up. I stare at my phone before bursting into laughter.
“Well,”—I glance down at Liana— “I guess your dad has strong opinions about Santa.”
The line snakes halfway through Macy’s holiday village. Children bounce excitedly beside their parents while Christmas music drifts softly through hidden speakers overhead. Artificial snow sparkles beneath twinkling lights, and somewhere nearby, someone is handing out tiny candy canes.
Liana seems fascinated by all of it.
Her little head turns back and forth so quickly that I’m surprised she doesn’t make herself dizzy.
“You’ve got a lot to look at.”
She kicks both feet enthusiastically.
“You like Christmas already?”
The line inches forward. I adjust the hood over her little antlers.
“So cute,” I tell her as I admire her outfit again.
“I know.”
The familiar voice comes from directly behind me. I spin around.
Dean.
His charcoal overcoat hangs open over a navy sweater, and there’s still a little crease in his tie, like he loosened it while rushing over.
He’s slightly out of breath.
“You actually came.”
“I told you I was.”
His attention drops immediately into the stroller, and then his entire face melts.
“Oh my God.” He crouches beside Liana. “Look at you.” His voice becomes impossibly soft. “What are you wearing?”
Liana immediately reaches both arms toward him.
He laughs, lifting her out of the stroller without even looking at me. “My little reindeer.”
She grabs his nose but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“I mean …” He shakes his head. “I wasn’t prepared.”
I smile up at him. “I told you.”
“No.” He grins as he looks at her. “You severely undersold this.”
He kisses one chubby cheek, then the other. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this cute.”
His eyes travel over me for the first time. They stop, then slowly make their way back up.
A grin spreads across his face. “Oh no.”
My forehead creases. “What?”
He points at my sweater. “You matched her.”
I glance down at the Rudolph sweater I threw on that morning. “I did.”
He laughs. “You two planned this.”
“We absolutely planned this.”
His smile grows even wider. “I can’t decide who’s cuter.”
For a few seconds, he just … looks at me. The kind of look that always makes my heart beat a little faster.
His smile softens while his eyes linger long enough that I almost forget where we are.
But they dart away to the families around us and the people standing in line before coming back to me.
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
I tilt my head. “What’s wrong?”
He hesitates, then steps just a little closer. Close enough that only I can hear him. “I really wish we weren’t in public.”
I blink. “Why?”
His eyes meet mine. “So I could kiss you.”
Warmth spreads through my chest for just a second. Then something else settles in beside it—disappointment.
Not because he wants to kiss me, but because he won’t. Not here at least, where anyone might see.
I glance around us. No one is paying the slightest bit of attention to us. Still, Dean keeps a careful inch or two of space between us like we’re just friends.
My smile stays in place, but it feels a little harder to hold.
We’ve gone so far beyond casual. He falls asleep with me almost every night. We’ve spent countless mornings making breakfast together.
He trusts me with the most important person in his world.
The first time he got jealous—on our date—he closed the partition in the back of the SUV, kissed me until I couldn’t think straight, and made me look him in the eye.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
I still remember the intensity in his voice, the possessiveness radiating off of him, and the relief that washed over his face when I whispered back that I was his.
Behind those closed windows, he had no problem claiming me. Out here, he won’t even hold my hand.
I know why.
He’s protecting me, protecting his company … protecting us.
But standing here beneath thousands of Christmas lights while the man I love looks at me like he wants to kiss me … and chooses not to… I can’t help wondering how long we’re supposed to keep pretending.