Page 107

The honesty of it made her flinch, but he did not let her look away.

"But I was always watching you," he continued softly. "Side-eyeing you when you were busy. When you thought no one was paying attention." His thumbs brushed lightly over her cheeks. "There was no one else I wanted to look at.”

Her breath caught at the truth in his words.

"You were distracting," he admitted, a faint, rueful smile touching his mouth. "When I was home, I got nothing done. If I let myself watch you too long…I knew I wouldn't leave."

His forehead rested briefly against hers.

"So I let you think I had to get away," he murmured. "Not because I didn’t want you, but because I wanted you too much.”

Her teasing expression returned, and he glanced down at the page again. "He will bring me flowers." He lifted a brow and continued, "Specifically tiger lilies, and orange blossoms."

Her cheeks warmed.

"I remember you liked the colour," he said quietly, surprising her by remembering. "Said they looked like fire."

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I do not know where I will find tiger lilies in the winter," he muttered, "but I will try. Maybe build a greenhouse?"

He turned another page.

"He will learn to brush and braid my hair." He looked up with fire in his eyes as if eager to start before he continued, "He will bring almond cookies whenever he returns from the city."

He gave her a sideways look. "You appear to have defected to rice cakes now."

She laughed softly despite herself.

"I can adjust," he said gravely. "Rice cakes it is."

He flipped further.

"He will help with household chores. He will scrub the pans, which are black because I burned them."

He snorted faintly under his breath.

"You wrote an entire paragraph about firewood." He chuckled while flipping pages.

She groaned, remembering. "Don't."

He ignored her.

"He will chop the firewood without being asked. And he will clean out the fireplace because I hate it."

He looked up at her again, his expression steady. "I will chop the wood. And I will clean the fireplace."

Her throat suddenly felt full of tears.

He continued reading. "He will surprise me with gifts."

He paused.

"Not expensive ones," he added. "You underlined that twice. 'Small things that show he was thinking of me. He will not think I am foolish because I need lots of hugs.'"

"I cannot promise perfection," he said quietly as he closed the book. "I will forget sometimes." He lifted her chin gently with his fingers. "But I can promise I will do my best." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I can promise that I will try to be the man fourteen-year-old Fae imagined."

Her eyes burned and her nose felt stuffy.