by Dawn Atkins
“We’ll survive. Fletcher came unglued, of course, but Dad’s decided to semiretire, so Fletcher will have his hands full for a while anyway. Once he read the PriceLess offer, he saw the revenue potential. He’ll adjust.”
“This is so hard to believe…. We have to tell everyone at the party.” She fumbled for her phone.
Chase stopped her hand. “They know. I swore them to secrecy so I could tell you myself.”
“No wonder they were so cheerful!” She laughed, then threw her arms around him. “This is wonderful.”
“I’m assuming you still want the GM job?”
“Of course. It’s been my dream….” She swallowed the knot in her throat.
“Good. There’s one more thing to work out. Us.”
“Us?” She wanted to sink into his dark eyes, now flaring gold just for her.
He took her hands. “As you so wisely noted, love is nice, but it’s not enough. You need a solid foundation, something Thor might provide.”
“But when I said that I meant—”
He raised a hand. “Hold on. Let me finish. So, with that in mind, I ran the numbers on my Thor potential, like I did with the mall. And frankly, I didn’t look too good. I mean, I travel a lot, work all the time, don’t own a home or a dog.”
“That’s true,” she said, but her heart beat hard with happy anticipation.
He squeezed her hands, his palms warm. “So I threw that out. See, it’s kind of like you and the Black Friday promotion. We’re going to have to take a chance on projections here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Some good intentions. Some hopes. For the first time in my life I want to stick around. I want to build a life with you, Sylvie. Just you.”
“Chase, I—”
“I realized I’ve been so restless because I wasn’t who I wanted to be, doing what I really wanted to do. Let me show you.”
He reached for his laptop, clicked the touch pad and revealed an architectural drawing of a house. It was modern, with lots of wood and burnished steel and windows.
“Working with Jake Atwater got me fired up about architecture again, so I started drafting a house I would want to live in. Just to kill the time while I was missing you.” He clicked into the details of the sketch.
“One of the rooms I lined with a bunch of shelves and a workbench with skylights for tons of light. I figured I’d use the cork for the countertops in the kitchen like you liked, and some of Captain Bean’s wooden shelves and I realized what I was building was a house for you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. And I wanted to live there, too. With you.”
“How lovely, Chase.” Her heart was filling up and spilling over.
“So, I’m going to stick with Home at Last a while, try to expand the project if I can. And I’m going to architecture school. At night, at first. If things go well and the timing’s right, Jake Atwater will take me on as an intern.”
“That’s wonderful, Chase.”
“And I want to be with you, Sylvie. Here. So what do you think? Have I got Thor potential?”
“Forget Thor,” she said. “Thor’s not the whole story. I know that’s what I said, but I want passion, too. I want a man who’ll sweep me off my feet and adore me and…”
“Watch you sleep and call you ten times a day to ask how your day’s going?”
“Yes. Someone who wants my opinion on the Middle East…”
“And whether this tie goes with this shirt, and which diapers stay the driest?”
“Now you’ve gone too far,” she said. “No matter how much you change, Chase, you’ll never care about diaper brands.”
“Good point.”
“And you might as well know I’ll never skydive.”
“Never say never.”
She laughed, then got serious. “I want someone I can count on, who’ll be there, thick or thin, who won’t lose interest in me when I have pablum in my hair, when I put on ten pounds, or laugh too loud at a client dinner.”
“You’ve got that and more, Sylvie.” He squeezed her hand.
“You’re taking a chance on me, too, Chase. I’ve held back so long, protecting myself, making my world into a dollhouse, I don’t know if I can let anyone that close.”
“Sure you can. I’ll help you. And you’ll help me. You with your green eyes that never let me hide.”
“Oh, Chase.”
He stood, taking her with him, and kissed her, long and slow, his arms warm around her, friend and lover, worth the risk for all the love he offered her.
Dasher barked for attention.
“Find a chew toy, guy,” Chase said. “We’ve got scary stories to tell, Nerf guns to shoot and marshmallows to roast. Where do you want to start, Sylvie?”
“Sleeping bag,” she murmured, reaching up to capture his mouth again.
“I’m with you,” he murmured back.
“This feels a whole lot like Christmas to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She had every gift she could want. A new relationship with her mom, Starlight Desert to manage, Dasher to care for and, best of all, Chase and the love he offered her. It was a lot like Christmas. And so much more.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-7525-0
A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2010 by Daphne Atkeson
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