“YOU GOT ME a Christmas tree.” Josie stood outside the theater house and touched the pine needles on the tree strapped to the top of Theo’s car. Inside, she melted at the gesture. “Why?”
“You needed one.” His half grin softened one side of his mouth.
Josie found that entirely too appealing. He’d given her even more reasons to be grateful for him. The gift he’d given Shanna… Josie’s breath had evaporated and dissolved into the hushed air around them. Her own hands had been shaking. It wasn’t even Josie’s wedding day.
Now if only she’d stop wanting to kiss him. And, worse, stop thinking about hand-holding, slow dancing and connections beyond business.
“I also brought you special ornaments.” Theo lifted the Coast to Coast Living shopping bag. “They’re the misfits.”
She peered inside the large soft-sided bag. “What are those?”
“The ones that can’t be sold on the store floor,” he said. “The imperfect ones. The reindeer with one antler. A noseless snowman. The chipped star. Nutcracker that doesn’t crack.”
“You thought I’d like the broken ones?” She searched his gaze.
“I thought we could fix them together.” He shifted the bag to his other hand. A hesitancy drew through his voice, lengthening his words. “Add a feather for a missing angel wing—that kind of thing.”
Once again, Theo took Josie’s breath away. Theo took the pieces of her broken heart and made her feel whole. “Make them our own.”
“Yeah.” His smile flared in his gaze and stretched across his mouth.
“I love it.” I love… Josie wrapped her arms around his neck, held on and muted her heart.
What she felt for Theo was simple gratitude. He’d reopened her eyes to the joy of the holiday season. The past week, she’d collected moments. Found inspiration and discovered her laughter. Gratitude was not love.
His arms curved around her waist and he pulled her closer. Cars passed by. Children chased one another along the sidewalk. Families shouted goodbyes to each other. Josie’s heart raced. Her pulse pounded. And still she held on to Theo.
He pulled away and grinned at her. “Ready to decorate?”
“Definitely.” Josie took the shopping bag from Theo and climbed into the car.
An hour later, a line of injured ornaments and proposed treatments waiting on the kitchen counter, Theo stretched his arms over his head and walked across the living room. The Christmas tree filled the corner of her apartment, its branches brushing against the couch and the window as if it intended to embrace the entire small space. The tree lights faded in and out, and the star on the top sparkled. Josie slid glass beads onto a copper brass wire, creating a new tail for a wounded unicorn, then she glanced at Theo.
He added several more Christmas balls they’d rolled in glitter to the tree and examined his decorating skills. “Our misfit tree is pretty perfect.”
Josie swiveled around the stool. “It’s the best tree I’ve ever had.”
Theo set his hands on his hips. “This can’t be the only tree you’ve had.”
“The first here,” she admitted.
Theo scowled.
Josie laughed and held up her hand. “But all my foster families put up Christmas trees. Every year. Every tree was different. The decorations over-the-top or subtle. But I remember feeling that each tree and every decoration transformed their houses into homes.”
“How are you feeling about your place?” Theo moved around the couch.
“Like it’s happier.” Josie picked up her wire cutters and concentrated on the unicorn. Theo made her happier. “That I’m a little more at home.”
“Since you’re feeling so relaxed, you won’t mind if I look around.” He stood inside her junior studio apartment, near her walk-in closet.
The three-quarter wall dividing the bedroom from the living area allowed for the junior designation. They both knew there wasn’t much room to look around. Josie propped the unicorn against a teacup, her movements slow, cautious. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Trying to get one up on Mia.” Humor and hope spiraled around his suggestion.
A grin twitched across her lips. She concentrated on the unicorn’s tail, as if the crystal beads granted her a glimpse into the future. “Why do you want to see my designs?”
“Curiosity.”
Perhaps. But it was more. Today Josie had proven to Theo the value of vintage. Proven to him that old could be new again. Old could be cutting-edge and breathtaking. With the proper adjustments, alterations and edits. But she hadn’t convinced him that his Grandmother Pearl’s dress was the one for his sister. She hadn’t even tried.
He’d offered her a segment on his company’s TV show—a show intent on transforming Josie and her business. She should be even more grateful for the opportunity. Their relationship would truly become colleague-to-colleague if she agreed. A strange sense of loss shifted over her. Business was supposed to be her only focus.
Gratitude was not love.
Now he wanted her to reveal another part of herself to him. He wanted her to trust him. She wasn’t ready. Would she ever be ready?
“I spent my entire first day as the CEO of Coast to Coast Living in my office chair and watched the door. I was convinced someone was going to claim I was unqualified. And call me out for being a fraud.”
She swiveled the stool toward him. “What did you do?”
“I called a meeting. Laid out the company’s daily goals, then the one-year and five-year plans. Sweat soaked my dress shirt. I rambled on about mission statements and visions. All the while I waited for the inevitable vote of no confidence.” He paused as if lost inside his first day again. “At the end of the meeting, no one spoke. No one questioned me. I think I’d stunned them into silence. Or convinced them I would bankrupt the company before year-end.”
“No one believed in you?” she asked.
“No one admitted they didn’t believe,” he corrected her. “Nobody told me I couldn’t do it. So I did.”
“That’s the difference.” Josie ran her hands over her jeans, slid off the stool, paced into the kitchen and back out. “They told me I couldn’t. Expected that I wouldn’t make it.”
He pointed at the closed closet, but his gaze locked on Josie. The insistence in his voice reinforced his words. “But you did it, anyway.”
Was it that simple? Did a closet she’d filled with clothes she’d designed and sewn together between shifts, more often on sleepless nights, prove she’d succeeded? Prove the critics wrong? Prove she was good enough?
Theo rested his hand on the glass and brass handle of the closet door. He wanted to view Josie’s collection. Wanted to see the clothes she hid from the world. And with the door closed, from herself. She had no real defense against him.
She walked to the closet, flipped on the outside light switch and opened the door.
Theo whistled. “You have several collections in here.”
“Most of it isn’t current,” she said.
“But you could make it fashion-forward again, if you wanted.” He pulled out a suit. “Where exactly did you plan to wear this?”
Josie grabbed at the hanger. “I didn’t plan to wear it.”
Theo stepped away from her. “But you designed it and sewed it. You had a vision for this particular garment.”
“I had a silly game I played with Mimi.” She crossed her arms over her chest. One she still indulged in. “Mimi showed me how to imagine a different life for myself. I created that world in clothes.”
Theo walked into the closet, hung the pantsuit on the rack. He never turned around, kept his attention on her clothes. He sorted through the skirts and blouses. Touched the jackets and scarves. Skimmed a hand over the dresses and gowns. Every garment was a piece of herself. Part of her story. He seemed to recognize that. He was gentle, courteous, tactful.
Finally, he tugged on a hanger and freed a cream-colored dress from the others. “It’s a sweater, but longer.”
“It’s intended to be worn as a dress with knee-high boots.” Josie fixed the slouchy hood. She’d watched one too many winter romance movies and designed the dress late one night.
Theo held up the garment. “The hood makes it ideal to wear outside on a cold night.”
“I let you see my clothes—aren’t you satisfied now?” Josie walked into the living room. She wouldn’t allow him to belittle Mimi or their game. “It’s for a ride in a horse-drawn carriage.”
“I can’t arrange a horse-drawn carriage,” he said. “But I’ve been told there’s a holiday boat parade that isn’t to be missed.”
Josie turned around. Theo stood within hand-holding distance. “What are you saying?”
“You have the perfect outfit.” He handed her the dress. “And I have a promise to keep.”
Josie curled her fingers around the hanger. “You want me to wear this to the boat parade?”
“Yeah.” He tilted his head and watched her. “I want you to accept my invitation. I want you to wear your clothes in this world. With me.”
With me. Her mouth opened and closed. He was asking her to stop hiding. Telling her he’d be by her side. With me.
“You should probably hurry.” He tapped his watch. “The parade starts soon, and I have a feeling Jin and Helen will be on the lookout for us.”
Josie walked into her bathroom, closed the door and gripped the bathroom counter. She envied Shanna’s courage. Channeled Shanna’s bravery. Josie created dresses for women to wear and discover their inner beauty, their confidence—whatever it was they thought they lacked. Now it was time to follow her own lessons. Apply the same theory to herself. She pushed off the porcelain counter. No more hiding.
Josie changed out of her clothes and slipped the sweater dress over her head. The merino wool lowered to her knees, fitted and comfortable. The hood dropped around her shoulders, as she’d envisioned. But she’d never envisioned wearing the dress into the city with Theo.
She tugged on her boots, trying to tug her pulse back to steadiness. I’m grateful. Grateful to Theo. Nothing more. A handful of steps brought her into the living room. Theo waited beside the tree.
His gaze drifted from her face to her boots and back. A slow smile of appreciation took over his features. “I’m glad you never took that carriage ride.”
“You don’t like horses?” she asked. Her fingers twitched, her legs, too. She wanted to pace. To hide.
“I don’t like sharing.” He moved closer to her. “And whoever took you on that carriage ride in this dress wouldn’t have let you go.”
Her heartbeat quickened. Her pulse crowded her throat. “It’s just a plain and simple off-white sweater dress.”
He reached out, touched her cheek. “There’s nothing plain about you, Josie Beck.”
And there was nothing simple about his caress. Nothing straightforward about how so very safe her name sounded in his mouth. Josie edged into his space and reached for him. Their lips met. And what was complicated became simple. And so right in his arms.
The kiss lasted seconds, minutes, hours. Josie wasn’t certain. She lost herself in Theo’s embrace. Was certain that only her heart would never be the same. And with Theo beside her, she never wanted to hide again. The kiss slowed. Her feet returned to the ground. Her breath streamed back into her chest.
“Should we take that stroll to the wharf?” Theo asked. The rasp in his voice hinted that his own breath hadn’t quite returned. “We don’t want to miss the parade.”
Josie nodded and took Theo’s hand, seeking balance. But that we lodged in her chest, squeezed and twisted.
There was no we. We implied there was more between them. We implied relationships and commitments. But she’d only ever committed to herself. Only wanted to commit to herself, didn’t she?