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“This entire night has been a gift, Owen. Please, nothing else. Thank you for making Christmas Eve special, but I need to get to bed. I’m exhausted.”
I stand and walk toward the door, but he comes up behind me and catches my hand. His touch is light, a grip I can break easily, but I stand where I am, frozen as feelings course through me. Feelings of longing, regret, and guilt.
“Please, wait.”
I stay where I am as he grabs the poorly wrapped gifts from under the tree.
“Merry Christmas!” He holds them out to me in both hands, a shoe box sized gift on the bottom, with three small, oddly shaped gifts stacked on top.
It’s such a ridiculous sight. I laugh even as my heart breaks. “I thought Sadie wrapped those!”
A fake frown steals his smile. “Seriously? I spent a lot of time and tape to make thesepresentable.”
By the twinkle in his eye, he meant the pun. Honestly, the wrapping is perfect. Spencer would never go to the trouble to wrap gifts for anyone, and I both love and hate that Owen went to the effort to wrap these for me.
I grab the scarf from the end of the table, glad I brought it with me so I have something to give in return. “This is for you.”
He doesn’t have a free hand since he’s still holding my gifts. I lean forward and drape it over his shoulders as if it’s some sort of award. Our faces are inches apart. I want to burrow into his warmth again and forget about money and responsibilities and Nana. All that matters in this second is Owen.
No! I will never forget about Nana. She sacrificed so much for me and Mom. I will sacrifice for her.
I step away until my back hits against a chair.
Owen gives me space when he looks down at the scarf lying against his chest. “You made this for me?”
“Yeah. It’s just a scarf.”
He looks up, his eyes soft and sweet. “Nothing you make isjustanything. Do you know how jealous I’ve been of all the Brock Pine residents who have received something you’ve knit? You should hear them brag. Now I get to join in. Norman will be green with envy that I got a scarf from you, and he didn’t.”
My chest burns with pleasure. I had no idea anyone cared they had something made by me. It’s like Owen knows exactly what to say to make me feel extra special.
“Thank you, Layla.” His voice is soft, fervent. My skinpebbles in goosebumps. “It’s beautiful, and I will treasure it always.”
He puts the gifts on the table and picks up the largest one. “Open this first.”
There’s an uneven weight inside that makes a clunking noise when I give it a little shake. I tear off the paper and open the box. I’m unprepared to find a thirty-two-ounce bottle of ketchup.
I laugh, dispelling most of my yearning for Owen over the past few minutes. This is a friendly gift, even if it is amazing how much thought he put into it. Into everything tonight.
“Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
He smirks. “It’s a bottle of ketchup. I can get you more. They were on sale at the store, so it won’t set me back much.”
I slap his stomach with the back of my hand. Mistake. It’s firm and warm. Touching of any kind is off limits where this man is concerned.
“I mean everything, smarty pants. The food. The pickle.” A real pickle. A point to him for innovation. “The ketchup.”
“I can’t wait for you to open the rest of your presents if I’m met with so much appreciation for ketchup.”
The second gift is the angel pendant on a silver chain from the shop at the lighthouse. The one I stopped and stared at for a few extra seconds. Of course, Owen noticed. He seems to notice everything about me.
The third is a bar of peppermint scented soap. Now I can smell like a candy cane every time I wash my hands.
Nothing is extravagant, but it’s the thought he put into them. He knows me. He pays attention. He cares.
I realize for Owen, tonight is not about us being friends.He is treating me like a girlfriend. I love spending time with him, but it’s time for me to stop ignoring what’s going on between us. We have to stop pretending.
I lay the items out on the table next to the last wrapped gift. “Owen, I can’t accept these. I’m dating Spencer.”
