Page 69 of The Holiday Makeover

That we could make this work.

We could.

Right?

I shoved my phone in my pocket and went to find Rory.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Rory

Iwaved at Tate on the VIP float rolling through the parade before the ceremonial lighting of the town square Christmas tree—not that he could see me wedged three people deep in a sea of puffer coats, toddlers on shoulders, and enough holiday cheer to power the entire western half of the United States.

The air was sharp and stung my nose, and every exhale came out in a little white puff. Christmas music blasted from somewhere behind me, a marching band butchered “Jingle Bell Rock” a few floats back, and the smells of kettle corn, hot cocoa, and diesel fumes somehow mingled into one very festive Aspen Lake perfume.

Beside me, Lily and Shay bounced Jamison and Jasper to the music, and the twins were bundled so tightly that only slivers of their round, adorable faces peeked out from their hats and scarves. Their little smushed smiles said they were loving every second of it—the lights, the noise, the waving townspeople, the cheerful floats creeping by in a Christmas traffic jam.

There Tate was, all six foot two of his demigod perfection in a dark wool coat and scarf, giving his best Prince Charming wave while riding ten feet in the air with the mayor like he was Aspen Lake royalty.

I supposed he always had been. He’d just forgotten it.

Judging by the crowd cheering for him—and the two women who had the audacity to shout their phone numbers at him like we were at some kind of holiday-themed dating auction—no one had forgotten him.

The camera crew trailing his every move was no doubt loving the footage of Tate and the adoring public.

I kept having to remind myself that this was a good thing. I wanted Tate to love Aspen Lake again. To remember that the people there loved him. That it was safe for him to come home.

And what exactly was I supposed to say when he had come to me three days earlier with Quinton’s offer, which felt a whole lot like an ultimatum? No, sorry, you shouldn’t save your show because I’m emotionally fragile and the sight of a camera crew gives me trust issues?

I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be the reason he lost something this important and then have him resent me for it all over again.

Besides, he was right. This was our chance to prove we could make our lives fit together. That his spotlight didn’t have to bulldoze our personal lives.

I just hadn’t expected the spotlight to come calling quite this soon.

Not when I was grieving Coco so much that at times it hurt to breathe. Not while I was planning her celebration of life and, let’s not forget, trying to fulfill her last request. A request, mind you, that had thrown me headlong back into Tate’s life. Tate’s arms. Arms I’d never stopped wanting, no matter how hard I’d tried to. And now that I had them, I never wanted to let go again.

Tate had promised me Quinton swore I wouldn’t have to be part of the filming of his little homecoming journey, even though I was the reason he’d come home in the first place. He’d promised the renovations would still get done. That I’d hardly notice his absence. That this was all going to be great.

It could be. Right?

We could do this.

“Are you okay over there?” Lily yelled above the crowd. “I could boo him loudly if you want me to.” She said it playfully, but I knew she meant it.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled that I was giving Tate another shot. Especially now that I found myself smack-dab in the middle of the fame I’d once rejected. A rejection I was finally starting to see Tate had taken personally. Like I was rejecting him.

But I’d taken it to mean he was rejecting me.

Ugh.

What a mess we’d made of it.

And I wanted to undo that mess.

I wanted us both to have what we wanted—needed. I knew that meant compromise on both sides. It just sounded a lot easier than it actually was.

“Yep, fine,” I said, trying to sound convincing while watching the love of my life literally float by with women—and even a few men—clamoring for him. “And for your own safety, I wouldn’t boo him. I’m pretty sure I just heard that woman over there offer to have his children.”