by Juno Rushdan
She was also thankful for the friendship she’d never expected. Maddox and Cole treated her like she fit in, belonged.
Maddox had loaned Willow her car. After she spent the day with her father at the hospital, she met with Maddox and Cole every night for dinner. Sometimes they went shopping, using a sorry-your-house-burned-down fund collected at the Gray Box, and Maddox even took her to a ritzy salon to get her hair dyed back to her normal color.
They never talked about Gideon, although he was always on her mind. No pressure. No questions. Just comfort. Space when she needed it. A patient ear when she was ready.
The evening she’d broken down, weeping uncontrollably, and had shared what her last night with Gideon in the hotel had been like, Maddox had been the best listener, crying too and plying Willow with wine.
A knock at the bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. “Yep.”
Maddox and Cole eased inside the room, their faces grave.
“Did the hospital call? Did something happen to my father?”
“No,” Maddox said. “Gideon is here.”
Willow’s lungs tightened. She clutched her throat and sat on the bed, needing something solid beneath her before she hit the floor. “What does he want?”
“To talk to you.” Maddox sat beside her and handed her a small, square box.
Willow took the present and stared at it, her chest aching with each breath.
“You don’t have to open it.” Cole leaned against the doorjamb. “I’m happy to throw it in his face and give him a beatdown for you. But what’s inside might sway your thoughts.”
“Why do men think they can buy us with jewelry?” Maddox asked.
“He’s not trying to buy her. He’s trying to apologize.”
Maddox rolled her eyes as she huffed.
“I’m on your side.” Cole glanced between them. “I’m on Willow’s side. Not his. I’m only saying he probably put thought into it.”
Taking a breath, Willow untied the white bow and peeled off the red wrapping. A velvet box tickled her fingers. She didn’t want jewelry but did want to know what was inside, so she opened it.
A necklace with a delicate chain. The pendant was a black bird made of darkened sterling silver, the intricate wings covered with pavé diamonds and a large diamond—at least a carat—set as the eye. In the bird’s breast, at the heart, was a single pearl.
It had a faint pink iridescence like her mother’s vintage choker, but it couldn’t possibly be the same.
“Wow,” Maddox said in a whisper. “Looks vintage.”
Cole peered over. “Looks expensive.”
“It’s a starling.” Hope bloomed inside Willow, but she was terrified to let herself expect anything other than an apology.
“His pet name for you from the boat. Awww.” Maddox put a hand to her chest. “Okay, he put thought into it. The pendant was probably tough to find, but it doesn’t excuse how he hurt you.”
Having Maddox and Cole in her corner warmed her with comfort she’d only known from her parents. And, for a moment, from Gideon.
“Why would he give me this?” We don’t fit. The words were nailed to her bleeding heart.
“I think he’ll tell you,” Maddox said, “if you talk to him.”
Willow pinched the back of her hand, debating. Gideon had hurt her like no one else. And he’d waited four days to see her. The gall.
What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do? Fall into his arms and pretend he hadn’t stomped on her heart?
“You can keep the necklace. Doesn’t mean you have to see him,” Maddox said.
Oh no, she wanted to see him. Clutching the bird in her palm, Willow strode to the closed front door. She hesitated, gathering her choppy thoughts, and opened it.
Gideon turned and met her eyes. Heat suffused her at the sight of his clean-shaven face and trimmed hair. Just being near him made her calmer, had her softening. But she refused to collapse into his arms, regardless of what he said.
“You changed your hair back to chocolate brown.” He smiled. “God, you’re beautiful.”
Her belly quivered like watery Jell-O. “The necklace is beautiful. But I don’t want it.” She extended her hand with the starling in her palm.
He edged closer. Awkward, hesitant, as if his guard was down. He cupped her trembling hand, wrapping her fingers around the bird. “Please, keep it.”
“Haven’t you hurt me enough?” She’d hit the crest of this roller coaster of suffering and had been on the downward slide to dark emptiness. Now this. “Why torture me?”
“The pearl is from your mom’s necklace. I picked some up from the street and managed to hang on to three. I found the bird in this little jewelry shop, and the owner only had time to work one pearl into the body. Rush job after I explained I was trying to make amends and said money was no object. I thought it’d make you happy, not torture you.”
The gesture left her speechless. No one had ever done anything so considerate. Or romantic. She didn’t know what to say, what to do.
His eyes met hers, soft and warm. “I lied. In the parking lot, when you asked about us.”
Her mind swam, her heart trapped in the heavy swell of hating him and loving him.
He lowered to his knees, slowly, wincing, and clutched her hips.
“What happened to you? Everyone told me you were okay. Are you badly hurt?”
“That doesn’t matter. I get hurt and I heal. What’s important is that I’m sorry I hurt you. I was an idiot and blinded by my past failures. I was afraid that you wanted me and terrified I’d disappoint you. You may never forgive me, but you need to know. It was all real for me too.”
Disbelief slid through her, but it quickly gave way to relief. Profound relief that made her tingle.
“You and I are a perfect fit. I don’t want to lose you, Willow.”
It’d been real. She wasn’t wrong; she hadn’t misread him. Hadn’t misconstrued what they’d shared. But she was pissed.
“Stand up, Gideon. I never wanted you on your knees. I wanted you at my side. Why wait four days to make it right?”
She helped him up from the floor, wanting to hug him, but held back, waiting for an explanation.
“I needed to be sure.”
“Of your feelings?” They’d only been together a handful of days, yet she’d been sure of her heart.
He ran his hand over her hair. “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment I fell in love with you, but I’ve been certain since the boat. I love you.”
For a moment, she forgot to breathe. “Say that again.”
“I love you, Willow Harper.” He caressed her cheek, and it was as though her heart sprouted wings and fluttered in her chest. “I needed to be sure that if you felt the same and I asked you to build a life with me, it would be the right thing.”
“How could it be wrong?” Build a life with him?
Dazed, she let the words sink in, petrified he might not mean what she thought.
“You know how hard and dangerous this job is. I didn’t want you wasting your life worrying about me out in the field, fretting, unable to sleep at night.”
Smiling, she pressed her hand to his smooth cheek and brought his lips to hers. “Loving you would never be a waste, no matter what happens. You think I’m fragile, but I’m not weak.”
“You’re strong and courageous. I just didn’t want to put you through that. You deserve a sweet man who does sweet things. Works nine to five. Leaves lovey-dovey notes in secret places for you to find. Plans surprises. Brings you flowers.”
“I’ll worry less knowing the details of your missions. I don’t work nine to five, and I’m sometimes on back-to-back assignments. Why hide notes? I’d rather you tell me to my face what you feel.” She held up the necklace. “This is a surprise. And for the record, I’m allergic.”
“To diamonds?”
“Flowers. Sneezing, watery eyes. Same with perfume.”
He cupped her jaw. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, you are. I don’t want a sweet man who does sweet things. I want a strong man who’s sweet on me. I deserve honesty and passion and the freedom to be myself, at ease with the right guy. With you.”
“You need to know upfront what you’re getting with me. I don’t have a good track record when it comes to making others happy.”
She grinned, suppressing a laugh at how the man could be so smart yet so clueless. “The point of loving someone isn’t to be made happy by it. The point is to be better because of it. It’s not your job to make me happy—that’s mine.” She’d learned a lot about love watching and listening to her parents. “And I’m happier with you than without you.”
“You make me want to be worthy of you.” His breath caressed her mouth.
How bizarre to think that the most amazing, beautiful man was worried about not being good enough. He might look like a god and have the powers of one, but he was mortal and flawed. And she loved him. “Gideon, you already are worthy.”
“If you’re right, then one day, I hope you’ll consider marrying me.”
She tensed, but he pulled her flush against him. The heat from his powerful body comforted her, seeping into her skin, her bones. Deeper.
“You don’t have to promise me anything,” she said.
“Yes, I do.” He brushed his lips across hers and kissed her with such raw tenderness that her belly somersaulted. “I can be disagreeable sometimes and a bit of a control freak.”
She nodded. “I know. But we both have issues.”
Pressing his forehead to hers, he stared in her eyes. “I swear to give all of myself. Not hold back. I’ll never leave and never push you away again.”
The solemn words thundered through her, sealing something precious between them. She knew he meant it. They belonged to each other.
“I don’t do plants and pets,” he said, “but if you want kids down the road, I’d like a family with you. No rush. I think I might have daddy issues to work through first.”
Willow had never known if she’d ever have a real boyfriend, but she’d always wanted what her parents had. Love. Trust. Unconditional acceptance. A family.
“I love you, Gideon, but I’m a package deal with my dad.”
“Goes without saying. I’m already hatching a plan to smuggle in cheeseburgers and sneak him whiskey.”
She slapped his chest. “Don’t you dare.”
“How about we start with sorting out living arrangements? I can help you find a new place with your dad. Or you two could move into my townhouse. I can make it handicap accessible. Or we find something new together. Whatever you want. No pressure.”
She melted against him. This was happening. Gideon Stone loved her and wanted to build a life with her. Living with him was worth braving her father’s wrath.
“I want a fresh start. Let’s find a house for the three of us, something close to work.”
“Done.”
“I want you to let go of the past. And the Jeep.”
He pressed the alarm button on a remote key. A faint horn tooted. “Done.”
She chuckled. Wow, he’d been busy. “And I want you to learn how to dance.”
Sighing, he tightened his arms around her, squeezing. “You’re a tough negotiator. But anything you want that’s in my power to give is yours. Consider it done.”
“Who is going to square this away with my dad? He’s old-fashioned. He’ll give us a hard time about living together.” Her dad would go on a tirade. Every single day. Maybe twice a day.
“I’ll handle your father. As long as he’s not holding a baseball bat.” Gideon laughed. The husky sound lit up her heart, and she smiled.
He kissed her, squeezing her body to his, lifting her feet from the floor. Her lungs burned from the lack of air, heart pounding, skin on fire from the sweet heat of his touch.
Side by side, they’d survived the worst—stronger together than apart.
This love was worth everything, and neither one of them would ever let go.
Epilogue
McLean, Virginia
Three months later
Willow flipped pancakes on the griddle and spooned scrambled eggs from a pan into a serving bowl. Every time she strolled into the lavish gourmet kitchen, she was reminded of Gideon’s generosity and love. He’d found this house, venturing above their price range since nothing else they’d seen had been right for them.
It was bigger than they needed, but they’d both agreed they’d grow into it.
The wraparound porch led out to a picturesque fenced yard she could see from the large kitchen windows. There were five bedrooms, a finished basement, and a second master on the ground floor that was perfect for her dad. She’d fallen in love with the space, abundance of natural light, and proximity to work but fretted over the cost.
Gideon had pushed for a speedy close. He’d rallied the troops to help him install a ramp at the front of the house, make her father’s bathroom handicap accessible, and knock out a wall to open the family room to the kitchen, working everyone to exhaustion to get things done quickly.
Hand in hand, they’d picked out the Carrara marble for the countertops, new appliances, furniture, and paint colors. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was a symbol of the life they were building together. As partners.
Gideon came up behind her, swiping a piece of bacon, and nipped the junction between her neck and shoulder.
“Two minutes.” She kissed him, enjoying the taste of his mouth. “Then we can eat.”
“I’m starving,” her dad said from the spacious family room off the kitchen. “And prepare yourself, Warden. I’m going to have three slices of bacon. Don’t give me a hard time.”
Shaking her head, Willow sighed. “One slice, if you agree to try the vegan sausage.”
“I’m the senior citizen, but I’d swear you’re the one hard of hearing. I said three.”
Gideon roped his arms around Willow’s waist, his broad hands teasing her stomach. “Two is a nice compromise. Plus one fake sausage.”
Her dad grumbled. “Fine. And coffee. Supersized, with cream.”
Gideon squeezed her, his head against her hair, then took an oversized mug from the glass-front cabinet and poured coffee.
“A splash of cream,” Willow whispered, plating the pancakes.
Smiling, he nodded. They had an unspoken code of conduct. Gideon was her dad’s ally, slipping him treats and the occasional sip of whiskey, negotiating deals, but he never crossed the line to excess.
Hannah, Gideon’s surrogate mom, laughed, pouring the fresh-squeezed orange juice into a pitcher. It had been nice having female company in the new house for the past week and hearing pleasant stories about Gideon as a child. Hannah lived less than two hours away, but when Willow had suggested she stay over for a few days to spare her the drive, Hannah had eagerly agreed.
Her dad took to Hannah immediately, the two bonding over music and movies.
“After getting to know your dad,” Hannah said, “I’m surprised he hasn’t griped about you two living together.”
“Oh, at first, he did.” Willow took out the waffles from the built-in warmer drawer. It was extra work making both pancakes and waffles, but Gideon preferred the former, her father the latter, and she didn’t mind. Besides, Gideon was on dirty dishes duty and would grill dinner later.
“Every day.” Her dad wheeled into the kitchen. “I reminded that boy of three things: be good to my daughter, I want a ring on her hand, and I’m not too old to use my baseball bat.”
Hannah’s laugh deepened. “Well, Gideon, you did an outstanding job with the engagement ring. Absolutely gorgeous.”
Willow
held up her left hand, admiring it. A rose-gold band sat on her finger with two pearls surrounded by an infinity loop of diamonds. Perfection. “The pearls are from my mother’s necklace. I used to wear it all the time. The only thing of hers I had left, but it broke.” She put a hand to her throat, touching the jeweled starling, and refused to dwell on the bitter memory. “But Gideon found three.”
The pearls gave the ring a special meaning, as though her mother was part of everything.
“Incredibly sweet, Gideon.” Hannah patted his shoulder.
“I had to ask the jeweler to rush the custom order,” he said. “Her dad made me sleep in the guest room in the basement and demanded Willow promise—”
“No boys in her room until the engagement was official,” her dad finished.
Willow cringed from embarrassment. With her dad camped out in the bedroom on the main floor and her in the upstairs master, he had patrolled throughout the night and slept during the day, like a vampire, to ensure Gideon didn’t get past him.
Little had her dad realized that Gideon could’ve gone upstairs at any time, stealthy as a grim reaper, but he hadn’t, out of respect.
They’d still found creative ways to be together outside the house. A loophole, Gideon had called it, and sneaking around had been fun.
“I’m glad you two found happiness together.” Hannah grabbed the eggs and veggie sausage from the gleaming counter and helped Willow set breakfast on the table. “And I’m grateful you’re letting me share in it.”
Willow was the grateful one. With Hannah being a retired nurse an easy drive away, she agreed to help with her father whenever needed, pitched in cooking, and showed her fantastic healthy recipes. Even her dad thrived from Hannah’s jovial presence, complaining less and laughing more.
Gideon and her dad exchanged a weird look and nod. Hannah sat, smiling brightly, as Willow’s dad hit a button on the universal remote.
Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” played on the surround speakers. Willow still missed the things that had been destroyed in the fire, like her dad’s records, but the loss hurt less and less each day.
