Chapter 33 Dane

Chapter 33

Dane

Leaving Tinsel was the stupidest thing I’ve done in my life.

I don’t want to be in San Francisco. I don’t want to go to work. I don’t want to walk my dog in my neighborhood. I don’t want to swim laps in the pool on the roof.

I want to be where Amanda is.

I want to ask her to give me a chance—a real chance.

The pictures of her from the town party last night that everyone kept sending me—her halfhearted smile, the way she was crying while she hugged Lorelei, one of her staring at her bare left hand when I’m sure she had no idea anyone was watching, much less photographing her—I was an absolute asshole to leave her.

Especially in the midst of feeling so guilty.

How was she feeling? How much support could I have offered her instead?

I’m fixing it.

Today.

Instead of heading into the office, I’m packing and getting ready to leave for the airport.

Chili’s giving me heavy side-eye from his spot in his doggy bed beside my bed.

“It’s a nonstop flight,” I tell him. “And we should land the same time Amanda does.”

He lifts his head and woofs once.

I think that’s approval.

Not entirely certain.

He’s been cranky with me since we hopped on the last flight out of Michigan and back home to San Francisco two nights ago.

Or maybe I’ve been cranky with myself.

My phone dings, and I drop everything to dive for it on my nightstand.

Not a friendly text from Amanda like the few I got last night.

It’s a sign when my heart sinks this low at the sight of my sister’s name in my messages.

I’m never disappointed to see Lorelei’s name light up my phone.

But she’s not Amanda.

How much of a sign is that as to how much I need to take this leap?

Winona needs to know how big you want the statue of you to be.

I stare at the message from my sister.

Stare harder.

And then I call her.

“What the hell?” are the first words out of my mouth when she answers.

“You’re basically a superhero at home now,” she replies. “They’re asking Amanda the same. I think I heard your snow globe will be the centerpiece for the statue they’re putting up of the two of you in Reindeer Square.”

“I don’t need a fucking statue.”

“Too bad. They’re making one of you anyway. It’s not every day people fake Romeo and Juliet to end a generations-long family feud. This is the best thing to happen to Tinsel since they renamed the town in the sixties.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t want a statue.”

“Take it up with the mayor. Who, by the way, is Grandma’s new favorite person. Oh! Did I tell you I got a new job? Vicki Anderson herself stopped me at the party last night to ask me if I’d be interested in working at the Gingerbread House. She’s retiring, basically effective immediately, which we all knew, and Kimberly Anderson had already asked me, but having the Big Grandma’s approval is cool.”

“You did not just say the Big Grandma .”

“I did. It’s my new nickname for her. How’s work? You get that emergency all sorted?”

She knows there wasn’t an emergency. “Yep,” I lie.

“Good. You were missed at the party last night.”

I missed the party too.

I’ve never been sad to miss social events. They’re things I do, but they’re not things I look forward to or miss when I can’t make it.

But last night, I wanted to be at that party.

I wanted to be there with Amanda, watching her sparkle and shine and listening to her tell the story of our fake engagement.

Listening to her tell everyone that she fell hard for me the same way I fell for her.

No idea if she would’ve. But it’s what I want.

It’s what I want to believe in.

We had something. I know we did.

“I do have to get to work,” I tell Lorelei, which is yet another lie.

I’m not going to work.

I’m flying to New York.

“You don’t want to hear details about the party last night?”

“We’ll catch up this weekend.”

“I might forget a lot by then.”

I blow out a breath.

My sister rarely frustrates me, but I have a plane to catch. “I’ll make a list of questions and send them to you so you remember.”

“Dane, before you go . . .”

My heart stutters. Does she have something to tell me about Amanda? “Yeah?”

“Thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say thank you enough, but thank you . I really like Kimberly so far, and I can’t even tell you how excited I am to get to bake all day, and this wouldn’t have happened without everything you did last week. And I know how big of a risk it was. And I know it had to be hard in a lot of ways too. I’m joking about the statue. I am. But I will forever be so, so grateful for what you and Amanda did for Tinsel and our families and for me. Expect the best Christmas presents ever from now through eternity from me, okay?”

Fuck. My vision is going cloudy and my throat is getting thick. “You don’t have to do that.”

“You pulled off a miracle and changed everything for the better. I won’t be the only one getting you the best Christmas presents.”

“Gotta go, Lorelei.”

“I know. You hate the mushy stuff. Love you. And thank you.”

We hang up. I finish tossing the last few items into my suitcase, zip it up, and then grab Chili’s leash. “About time to call a ride. You ready?” I say to him.

He grunts and lumbers to his feet.

“If all goes well, this time tomorrow, you could be getting walked around Manhattan by Amanda. With new friends. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

He gives me the look of if you didn’t fuck it all up already, dumbass .

Yep.

I’m projecting.

Because that look doesn’t usually come with a little tail wag and a happy pant, which is actually what he does when I say Amanda’s name again.

We head through my condo to the front door, Chili moping along while I pull my suitcase.

And when I open the door to step out into the hallway, I find myself facing a mirage.

Has to be.

There’s no way Amanda’s standing at my doorway, arm raised like she was about to knock.

Her mouth forms an O, then morphs into a smile.

A very hesitant smile.

“Hi,” the mirage says.

I blink once. Then again. Then a third time.

She’s still there.

So I do the only logical thing I can think to do.

I poke her in the shoulder.

The woman of my dreams is standing at my doorstep and I just poked her in the shoulder .

And now I’m blurting, “You’re real.”

Her smile shifts from hesitant to full-on blinding. “I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I missed you. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t want to say goodbye. And I thought, what would Amanda do , and since I am Amanda, I decided the best thing to do was hop on a plane and come see you.”

Chili’s circling her, rubbing his body against her legs. No luggage. Just a backpack.

She really did spontaneously fly out here to see me.

“I don’t want to be friends,” I say.

Her brows lift in surprise.

Fuck. That came out wrong. “I was on my way to the airport. To come see you. To be more than friends. If you want. Because I want. I want you. And I—”

I thrust a hand through my hair.

I was supposed to have five hours on a plane to figure out what to say to her, and instead, I’m a stuttering, stammering mess.

“I want,” she whispers. “I’m here because I want.”

It’s not real until she steps into my space bubble and goes up on her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around me and pressing a kiss to my lips.

The feel of her against me jolts me back to reality.

And this is reality.

She’s here.

She’s solid and warm and she smells like cinnamon sugar and tastes like dreams come true and she doesn’t have to be here for any reason beyond wanting to be here.

“I wanted you to be at the party so bad last night,” she whispers between soft kisses to my lips and my chin and my jaw. “It felt like I was missing half of myself. The better half.”

A shudder ripples through me.

Relief? Overwhelming joy? Love?

All of it?

I boost her up into my arms, and she wraps her legs around my hips, kissing my face while I push my suitcase back into my apartment, pull my dog inside, and shut the door.

And then I take charge of the kissing.

All my awkwardness melts away, leaving me with nothing more than a feeling of utter adoration and desperate need for this woman who came to get me before I could leave to go get her.

She wants me.

She’s here. She wants me.

And I’ll leave zero question in her mind that I want her too.

I almost trip on my dog as I turn to carry her to my couch, but he grumbles and scoots out of the way, barely avoiding the backpack Amanda drops on the floor, which lands with a clunk .

“Your cookies,” she gasps.

“I’ll give you cookies.”

We don’t make it past my couch before Amanda’s tugging at my shirt and I’m kneading her ass.

Clothes have to go.

They’re unnecessary.

So is the tie in her hair.

I’m not smooth, but there’s nothing clumsy about my motions, either, as I help strip her out of everything from her shirt to her shoes, leaving her bare for me to just stare at as she tugs me toward the couch by my open pants, which are the only clothes I have left on now too.

“Last week was the best week of my life,” I tell her as I shuck the pants and climb onto her on the couch.

“Mine too,” she breathes as she runs her hands over my chest. “I didn’t want it to end. I was so mad at myself when I told everyone we were fake. You weren’t fake to me. Not how I felt about you. How I feel about you.”

“You’re not just a girl I had a crush on in high school.” I press a kiss to her jaw beneath her ear, loving the way her breath hitches. “You’re a kind, fun, beautiful, smart woman who has absolutely captured my heart.”

“You’re the only man who could convince me my life is better with a relationship. Only a relationship with you. Only you.”

“I’m sorry I left you without saying goodbye. I don’t ever want to leave you again.”

“I get it.” She squeezes my ass. “I do. It was overwhelming. You needed space. It’s okay. It’ll always be okay if you need space.”

I stare down at this remarkable woman telling me everything I’ve always wanted the people in my life to say but have never heard.

It’s okay to need space.

She doesn’t need space, but she gets it.

She understands.

“I love you,” I whisper.

“Oh, my heart, I love you too,” she whispers back.

Everything inside me glows warm and happy as I touch my lips to hers again.

This.

This wasn’t my plan. It wasn’t my goal. But being with Amanda—this is everything.

It’s so easy to fall into kissing her until I don’t know if she’s breathing for me or if I’m breathing on my own. To stroke her soft skin, knowing that this isn’t temporary this time.

It’s not a situation we’ve thrown ourselves into.

It’s not a thunderstorm making us lose our minds. It’s not stress. It’s not pressure.

It’s simply right.

Perfect.

Easy in that way that says this is meant to be.

With every stroke of her hands, every nip of her lips and teeth against my mouth and my skin, every sweet little noise and every arch closer into my body, she sets me on fire. It’s the most natural thing in the world to thrust inside of her, feeling her slick heat envelop me as she matches the rhythm of my hips, pulling me deeper and deeper into all of her.

Her body.

Her soul.

Her heart.

And I’m giving her mine with every stroke while my body tightens in anticipation.

“I love you,” Amanda gasps as she wraps her legs tighter around me, her pussy clenching around my cock, and I’m done for.

“I love you,” I groan into her neck as I come fast and hard, holding her as tight as I can while she squeezes me to the point that I can barely breathe.

And it’s perfect.

So damn perfect.

My throat clogs and my eyes get hot as my body shudders with every pulse of my release until I’m spent. Amanda’s body goes limp beneath me as I flop against her side, both of us panting.

She touches my cheek and watches me with heavy lids. “I love you.”

“I can move to New York. We have an office there.”

Her eyes go shiny. “There are dogs in San Francisco.”

“We can try both places. See what we like best. After your first play is a resounding success. I want tickets for every night.”

“And this is one more reason why I love you,” she whispers, softly kissing my cheek.

“I can’t count the reasons I love you. There are too many.”

Chili nudges my bare hip with his wet nose, then snorts on me.

Amanda’s peal of laughter brightens the gray and blue tones all over my apartment, and I smile again.

She makes my world brighter.

We still have things to figure out, but she’s here.

We’re doing this together.

“Promise me something,” I murmur to her as I pet Chili, silently promising to take him out soon.

“Anything.”

“No more faking anything, ever again.”

She beams at me. “I think you’ve just proved there’ll never be a need.”