24. Wren

I ignored the buzzing, unable to drag myself out from under the blankets. It felt like I’d been run over by a truck, and clearly, a wrecking ball was doing a number on my lower back and uterus.

Most women hated this time of the month, but for me, it was absolute hell. While most could stand and move around the day aunt flo arrived, often, I couldn’t. And today was one of those days. I’d taken multiple medications and even had a few procedures, and still, I was miserable too often. Even the Depo shot, which the doctor ensured me would help, didn’t seem to do much.

The doorbell buzzed again. Dammit. All I wanted was to lie on a heating pad and suffer in peace. But it was probably some poor Door Dasher with food Avery had ordered trying to cheer me up. Hopefully it was ice cream. Though were any ice cream shops open today? I wasn’t even sure my regular grocery store was. If Chris’s dad hadn’t been at my parents’ house with them, my bestie would have left to come here. But she couldn’t leave her future father-in-law, so the unfortunate person at my door had been lured out to do her bidding. The least I could do was answer.

Holding my breath, I stood. Then I shuffled across the apartment. I braced myself on the door I’d pulled open a few inches, wincing at the shock of pain tearing through my abdomen .

“Baby girl.”

The sound of his voice snapped me out of my misery. Tom? He stood in the hall, holding a blue cup dotted with snow in one hand and a large box at his side.

“Is that a peanut butter cup Blizzard?” I shouldn’t be surprised that he’d once again plucked my favorite thing out of my brain.

He tipped the cup so I could see the red spoon sticking out of the ice cream mixed with peanut butter cups.

“I can’t believe they were open on Christmas.” Pushing the door open farther, I stepped back to let him in. As he passed, I took the cup and shoved a spoonful into my mouth. Instantly, the cool cream chilled my insides and soothed me.

He took off his shoes in the entry, then carried the rectangular box into the living room, leaving the spicy scent of his cologne in his wake. By the time I’d locked the door and turned around, the box was propped up against the sofa and he was standing in front of me.

He pressed his lips to my forehead and tucked me in close. “Of course I found an open one. And I brought a cooler, so it should still be mostly frozen.”

A cooler? Damn, that meant he’d driven God knew how far just to find my favorite ice cream on Christmas. This man, who normally hated to waste time, didn’t seem the least bit bothered.

“How you feeling?”

“Happier now that you’re here.” The words slipped out before I had time to consider them, and for a heartbeat, I wished I could take them back. Before I could backtrack, though, he squeezed my arms and hummed contentedly.

“Me too. I’m happier when I’m with you.”

A sharp ache radiated through my back, and I winced. My instinct was to pull my legs to my chest, but that was impossible while standing. Tom flattened a hand against my back and slowly rubbed firm circles, dulling the pain.

“You should lay down,” he mumbled against my hair.

I worried my lip and assessed him. If I did, would he leave? “Will you stay?”

“If you want me here, then there is nowhere else I’d rather be.” He scooped me into his arms, pulling a squeak from my lips. “Bed or sofa? I’m fine with either.”

“Bed.”

He stepped into my room and stopped, taking in the space. When I painted the wall behind my bed a blood red, Avery and Jana had doubted my design skills. But after I’d added the black furniture and white bedding, along with pops of red on the opposite wall and dresser, they had to admit it was killer.

“I expected the room to be overly feminine, I guess, but this fits better. Sexy.” Arms tightening around me, he swallowed. “Let’s get you as comfortable as we can.”

He tucked me into bed, and I snuggled into the mountain of pillows and willed my body to unclench.

He tossed his jacket onto the chair in the corner, but rather than climb in beside me like I expected, he strode out of the room. I blinked at the empty doorway, confused, but before I could make sense of what was going on, he was back with a wrapped package. He set it down next to the bed rather than handing it to me.

“Is that not for me?” I tried not to pout, but I loved a present.

He chuckled. “Who else would it be for?”

“So are you just teasing me with it?” Giving up the battle to remain unaffected, I frowned and set the half-eaten ice cream on my side table.

“Are you up for opening it now? If you want to just lay here and watch TV, I’m good with that.” He glanced at the flat-screen on the wall over my dresser and rolled his eyes. “Of course you’re watching Neil Caffrey.”

“You know how much I love this show. Although.” I played with the edge of his cream cashmere quarter-zip. “I think I’m starting to find that a dependable older man is much more sexy.”

Growling, he cupped my cheek, his warmth radiating through me, and dropped his lips to mine. Rather than sexual, it felt like peace. Like finally finding the place I belonged.

In the past, a kiss could turn me on or fire me up. But never had it settled my soul and made me think I’d found home.

He pulled back .

“If I give you your gift, will that inspire you to be nice to me?” I teased, planting my hands on the mattress so I could get up.

Gently, he gripped my wrists, holding me in place. “Don’t get up. What do you need?”

“There’s an envelope on my bar with your name on it.”

He pushed to his feet and stalked out of the room. A moment later, he reappeared holding a white envelope with Daddy Wilson scrawled across it.

He dropped to the mattress next to me and flipped it between his fingers.

“Open it.”

Obediently, he slipped a large finger under the flap and ripped it open. As he pulled out the small stack of papers, his forehead scrunched and his lips parted.

“Is this a contract to buy the Homer?”

I nodded. “I can’t afford to buy it for you, but I figured you’d be okay footing the bill for the painting at the top of your wish list. And I got him to agree to sell it for a hundred thousand less than you were willing to pay…”

He blinked at me, his mouth still hanging open.

My stomach flipped and my hands shook. Dammit. I was sure he’d love this. Had I been wrong? “I just thought?—”

Before I could finish the thought, he pressed his mouth to mine.

“You’re amazing,” he mumbled against my lips.

I was breathless when he finally pulled back.

“Pat and Larry have been trying to get this guy to bite for four years.” He shook his head. “How?”

I shrugged. “I know the seller. He’s like you. He wants works of art to be appreciated, not hidden away. If you approve the contract, you’ll be required to display it in a gallery for at least twelve out of every twenty-four months.”

“Not an issue.” He smiled.

Like every time he graced me with one of those rare smiles, my heart skipped. I should have been terrified of falling so hard for this man, but when he was near, all my fear evaporated.

“Your turn now?” He tipped his head toward the wrapped gift .

I nodded, thankful that he’d come. Normally, I preferred to be left alone in my misery, but all I wanted now was to snuggle and laugh with the man next to me.

He pulled the twelve-by-sixteen-inch package onto the bed. It was wrapped with a precision I’d never achieve but was Tom’s signature style.

One tug of the paper, and I caught sight of a canvas covered in what looked like snow.

My breath caught. “No way.” The words were barely a mumble as I gently removed the paper. “Oh my god.” With a hand clapped to my mouth, I blinked back tears. “ Bridge of Snow .”

It was as beautiful as I remembered. Every stroke was thick with emotion.

I looked up at him. “You—but—we weren’t…” I forced myself to take a breath. “You got this for me?”

How was it possible that I’d become the lucky bitch?

“The moment you told me about it, I knew it should be on your wall. Art should be cherished.” He smiled. “This piece deserves to be loved as much as you deserve the opportunity to love it.”

“Thank you.” I leaned over to kiss him, but before I could make contact, my abdomen spasmed painfully, and I gasped.

With an arm around me, he eased me back into the pillows. “Rest, baby girl. I hate seeing you hurting, especially when I can’t do anything to help.”

My heart panged at the sincerity in his tone. “You being here helps.”

“Then I’ll always be here.”

I chuckled. “My periods aren’t as bad as they used to be, but I still end up in bed for a day most months. As much as I appreciate the sentiment, there’s no way you can keep that promise.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

I shook my head. “You do remember you travel with a baseball team, right?”

Jaw locked, he rubbed his thumbs lightly against my lower back.

I sighed in contentment. I could handle any kind of pain as long as he was by my side .

“Can I ask you something?”

I nodded.

“Is the endometriosis the reason you don’t want kids?”

I sighed. “That’s part of it. It doesn’t mean I can’t have kids.” Over the years, doctors had assured me that I had options. “A lot of people do, though it’s not always easy and can come with a lot of stress and disappointment along the way.” Many people willingly took on that emotional rollercoaster because they wanted children that much. “I’ve never felt like I needed to have kids of my own to be happy. I can admit that I’m kinda selfish. I like spending money on shoes and going out on a whim and living in a tidy apartment. I want to travel, see the world. I don’t want to be tied to one place. Other people’s kids are fun, but the best part is knowing I can give them back.” I leaned into his shoulder.

His chest moved up and down, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’m excited for the day my friends have kids, and I love my nieces. That’s enough for me.”

He smiled down at me. “It’s a good answer. And it’s a relief to know that being past the kid raising stage of my life won’t affect your dreams. Because I want to give you everything, not take it away.”

“You don’t need to give me everything, Tom.” I swallowed and let him have a scary truth. “But maybe together, we could have everything we ever needed.”

He pressed his lips into the top of my head as the bigger words I couldn’t say yet hung in the air around us.

As the night went on and we snuggled and watched White Collar , it became pretty clear that this had been my best Christmas in a long time. It was terrifying, how right the world felt with Tom at my side, because the moment we went public, it could all go wrong.