Page 97 of Charm
“You’re right. She’d be damn proud of us.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants. “We grew up.”
“You grew up,” I point out. “I’ve always been the more mature one.”
His right hand escapes his pocket just before he darts his middle finger in the air.
I huff out a laugh. “My point exactly, James. That’s mature.”
He steps forward to wrap his arms around me. “I love you.”
We don’t say it often enough, but I’m working on changing that. “I love you, too, James.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
Greer
It’ssurreal to see Holden Sheppard standing in the foyer of my townhouse. He’s holding two flower bouquets. They’re both dotted with multi-colored roses. One is larger than the other, but that’s the only difference between the two.
“I hope you like roses,” he whispers before he leans closer to kiss me softly on the cheek.
His gaze scans the main living area off to the right and the staircase to the left. I know exactly who he’s looking for.
“Olive is upstairs making something for you.” I smile. “It’s a surprise.”
It’s a friendship bracelet to add to his collection. This one will spell out his first name. She asked what his favorite color was, and since I don’t have a clue, I told her to surprise him. She said the beads would look like a rainbow when she’s done.
“A surprise?” he questions with a perked brow. “Give me a hint.”
Shaking my head, I wave a finger in front of him. “Not a chance.”
He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I had to try.”
“You’ll see the surprise soon enough.” I motion toward the hallway that leads to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water, soda, wine, beer…”
“A glass of water would be great.” He shoves the larger bouquet toward me. “These are for you, Greer.”
I take them and inhale the soft scent of the roses. “They’re beautiful, Holden.”
His gaze rakes me from head to toe. “You’re beautiful.”
I know he’d tell me that regardless of what I’m wearing. My look tonight is courtesy of my daughter. She chose our outfits. Mine is a pink sundress with a scoop neckline. Olive’s dress is frilly with pink polka dots. She insisted that I help her fasten the gold chain with the four-leaf clover charm around her neck. She kissed it before she tucked it inside the neckline of the dress. She said she didn’t want it getting in the way of the polka dots.
She doesn’t fuss much about her clothing, but when I told her that a friend of mine was coming for dinner, she insisted on wearing something special.
“Follow me,” I say with a smile. “I want to put these in water.”
Holden’s response is a brisk nod.
The sound of his shoes on the hardwood taps out a steady beat as we cross the narrow hallway until we enter the expansive kitchen. This room is one of the reasons why I purchased this home. It’s a welcoming space with more than enough room for at least a dozen people to gather.
When I first looked at it with my real estate broker, I made a comment about picturing Olive and a group of her friends hanging out here together after school. A few do come by regularly for playdates, so it’s always fun to see them sit at the table, sipping lemonade and drawing pictures.
“Your home is wonderful,” Holden says from behind me.
I love this house. I’ve worked tirelessly to make it into a home that I feel comfortable and safe in. I want Olive to feel that, too. I hope she always does.
“Thanks.” I turn to face him. “Have a seat while I put these in water.”
He nods again, but this time follows it up with a heavy exhale. “Okay.”
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