Page 62 of The Holiday Makeover

I tugged her toward me until she was flush against me and I could smell her mint shampoo. “I don’t mind being on his naughty list.”

She stilled, holding her breath for a beat before clearing her throat. “Uh, you should definitely expect coal this year.”

As long as I got the girl, I didn’t care what Santa brought me.

“I look forward to it.” I led her to the blanket in front of the fireplace. Being as gentlemanly as I could, I helped her get settled, making sure she was comfortable, propped against pillows. I nestled next to her—close, but not enough to crowd her. I’d leave it to her to close the distance. She knew I was her willing victim whenever she wished to claim me.

“This looks amazing. Thank you.” Her head fell on my shoulder.

“Are you ready to be blown away by my culinary masterpiece that I may have stolen from an Instagram reel but am still taking credit for?”

“Dazzle me,” she laughed.

I handed her a pre-made skewer with brie and folded prosciutto. “All you have to do is roast this to perfection and then place it between two toasted slices of baguette with apricot jam. Toasted and spread by yours truly. And let it be noted that I remembered apricot jam is your favorite.”

She took the skewer from me. “I think I might love you, Tate Ryder.”

I was counting on it.

We roasted and ate little sandwich after little sandwich, washing them down with sips of Château d’Esclans Garrus.

When our stomachs were happy and full, Rory snuggled closer to me, threading her arms through mine, her head resting against me as we listened to Dean Martin croon and the fire pop and crackle as the wood slowly burned into red and orange embers.

“Tate,” Rory whispered. “You looked happy today at the hardware store talking to your fans.”

I tensed, not expecting the conversation to turn in this direction. But I should have guessed she would want to talk about it. I had wondered if that moment bothered her. If it made her doubt reentering a world she didn’t love—my world.

“If I said I was happy, would that upset you?”

I had to be honest with her. The reception I’d received at the hardware store had pleasantly surprised me. But it also made me feel foolish. All this time I’d been running from home, afraid of the perception people had of me. When in reality, it was only my parents who cared that I hadn’t lived out the life they’d scripted for me. The one I’d bought into.

The one I still bought into.

I’d liked the attention today. I always had.

Did that make me a bad person? Foolish, even?

Constantly putting my worth in the hands of others probably made me unwise. Coco had warned me against it in her letter.

“No. I want you to be happy. I just don’t know how to be happy with you in those moments, but I want to be.” Rory’s sweet voice interrupted my thoughts. “But I don’t want that to be our relationship either. Does that make sense?”

I placed a hand over hers, trying to think of the right words to say. Words that would convey she was safe with me. That I wanted her in my life more than anything I’d ever wanted, even more than the roar of the crowd.

I just didn’t know how not to crave that sound. The adulation.

“Rory, I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like my love for you was tied to our show. Or that it was just my brain adjusting to yours or whatever the hell that article said.”

“That would be adapting,” she sang.

“Whatever,” I fake grumbled. “My brain adapted to yours long before puberty came calling. I mean, I used to comb your Barbie doll’s hair.”

Rory giggled. “And she always appreciated how gentle you were.”

I couldn’t help but smile. The things Rory used to talk me into. I should have realized a long time ago that she owned my heart. “Yeah, well, I still don’t want those secrets of ours getting around.”

“I will take it to the grave that you are an amazing Barbie hairstylist,” she swore.

“I appreciate that more than you know. But as I was saying,” I gently redirected. “My heart obviously took longer to adapt than my brain. And I know that hurt you. And it didn’t help that it took us working together for me to finally get a clue. But, Rory, I love you,” I said as emphatically and as heartfelt as I could.