Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
“At least he’s got one dad here though.”
His face went somber. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”
I’d almost screwed that up. “You’re not making me sad. I’m okay.” I stopped talking when Amos came back out, holding something in a Happy Birthday bag in his hand. I recognized it as the one that Jackie had given him his present in months ago.
He held it out to me. No warning, no explanation, no nothing. Just: here it is.
“You thought of me,” I said, even though in the back of my head I wondered if he’d run into his room to get something old he didn’t use anymore and regift it. But honestly, I wouldn’t care. I had just about everything, and if there was something I wanted, I could buy it. It was just rare that I did. I had traded in my car out of necessity; I hadn’t even splurged on buying the “right” winter clothes or shoes yet, despite Clara giving me a hard time when I complained about my toes being cold from my too-thin hiking boots.
I opened the bag and took out a heavy yellow leather notebook with an A on the front.
“So you can write new songs in it,” Am explained as I traced my finger over the engraved letter.
I swallowed.
My chest hurt.
“But if you don’t like it—”
I raised my gaze to his, telling myself I wouldn’t cry. I had cried enough in my life, but these tears wouldn’t be ones of grief. I wouldn’t mourn the words I had lost, the ones that had arced through my head for years, nearly endlessly . . . until they hadn’t.
Amos had no idea. Because I hadn’t told him yet. I had to. I would.
A tear pooled right at the corner of my eye, and I wiped it with my knuckle. “No, I love it, Am. I love it a lot. That’s so thoughtful of you. Thank you.”
“Thanks for my amp,” he replied, watching me closely like he was expecting me to lie or something.
“Can I get a hug?”
He nodded again and stood up, wrapping me up in the tightest hug he’d ever given me. I kissed his cheek and he surprised me by kissing mine back. Am took a step back, his face more than just a little bit bashful.
I almost cried, but I didn’t want to embarrass him. When I was able to, I bent down and handed Rhodes the two bags I’d gotten for him. “Merry Christmas, Tobers.”
He took them with a lift of his eyebrows at his nickname before saying in his bossy voice, “You didn’t need to get me anything.”
“You haven’t needed to do half the nice things you’ve done for me, but you did, especially today. It’s snowing, and dinner was so good, and we played dominos, and I think this might be the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had. But don’t be disappointed because your present isn’t as cool as Amos’s.”
Those gray eyes met mine as he shoved his hand into the first bag and pulled out a frame.
“I hope you like it. You’re both so cute. The other one I took off your Facebook page,” I explained.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he nodded. The first picture was the one I’d taken of him and Amos on the hike to the waterfalls so many months back. They had been standing close together at the bottom of the falls and had grudgingly agreed to let me take a picture of them being too cool to purposely be shoulder to shoulder. But still good enough.
“I didn’t know what to get you, and you don’t have any pictures of you two together in here.”
He slipped his hand back into the bag and pulled out a second frame. This one I hadn’t been sure about. I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries. It was a photograph of a young Amos with a dog.
Rhodes swallowed hard once, those eyes lingering over the photograph for a long moment. He pinched his lips together, then got up and pulled me up and into his arms so quickly and tightly, I couldn’t breathe.
“There’s a gift card to the shop too. I had to give the store your business,” I managed to mumble out around his sweater and pectoral muscle.
Then I stopped talking and let myself snuggle into that incredible body holding mine hostage. My cheek was against his chest, arms wedged against my body from his hold. He smelled just like his laundry detergent and clean man.
I loved it.
I loved him, this quiet man who took care of the people around him. In little ways. In little actions that meant everything. He had a heart bigger than I ever could have imagined. It wasn’t like it had snuck up on me. It didn’t hit me on the back of my head. What I felt for him had walked right up to me, and I’d watched it happen.