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“That will require additional negotiation.”
“What a hardship.” She puffed out her bottom lip in a pout before returning her attention to the picture. “And then what?”
He walked her through the rest of their Christmas tradition. “We stay up late, drink and eat too much before going to bed and waking up to open presents the next morning.”
She rubbed her hand over the frame again, and when she spoke, her voice was longing. “It’s like a Hallmark card. What’s it like to grow up like that?”
He thought of her parents, giving her a roof over her head but no real home to latch onto. How must that have been for her? Especially in contrast to her best friend’s big, loving family.
He put his arm on the mantel, and looked down at her. “It was really awesome.”
“You’re lucky, I hope you know that.”
“I do.” There were shadows hidden in her eyes as he asked her, “What did you do for Christmas?”
She put the frame down and shrugged. “Nothing. My parents thought Christmas was too commercial and didn’t want to support the consumerism economy. Usually, if they weren’t hosting some sort of hostel for strays, they made me go to a soup kitchen and help the poor.” Her smile quivered in the corners. “So at least I was doing something good for humanity.”
He scowled. “They didn’t give you anything?”
“Only handmade gifts we were allowed to spend zero dollars on.”
He shook his head. “That explains some of your shopping habits.”
Some of her tension lightened and she batted his arm. “I’m a girl. That explains my shopping habits. But it wasn’t too bad. Once I got older and had a job, Penelope, Maddie, and I exchanged gifts, and Mr. and Mrs. Donovan always let us come over late on Christmas. So I got to experience the holidays by proxy.”
He looked down at this tiny slip of a woman who’d thrown his entire life for a loop, and he wanted to give her everything. He leaned down and kissed her. “You deserve a proper Christmas.”
She shrugged. “It was fine.”
It wasn’t, but he could tell she wasn’t comfortable talking about it any longer. So he let it go. “When we go to Chicago, are you going to show me your pictures?”
Her face lit up. “Do you want to see them?”
“I want to know everything about you, Sophie.”
Her eyes grew bright, as though it surprised her. “Okay.”
Deep down, two things hit him at once.
Sophie was surprised because she’d never had someone want to know all about her before. Yes, her friends loved her, but her foundation—her parents, who clearly put their own ideology before their daughter’s happiness—she had no idea what that was like. The only boy she’d ever loved had manipulated her and abandoned her. She had no real concept of something he’d been given so freely and unconditionally he’d taken it for granted. He wanted to change that for her.
His mom was right.
He was in love with Sophie Kincaid.
