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She glanced behind her at the shelf he’d had installed. When they returned from LA, she had been mentally exhausted. Losing two of the people she’d loved most in the world, learning that one had betrayed her, and had almost gotten her killed more than once, and then almost losing Liam had put her in an odd state of numbness.
When he’d opened the door to their bedroom that first night back, a smile had lit up his face. “They’re here.”
Wondering what he was talking about, she’d peeked inside the room and had been surprised to see a stack of boxes in the corner.
“What’s that?” she’d asked.
Liam had dropped onto the bed. His face had been pale and she’d known the trip had exhausted him more than he wanted to admit.
“Grab one of the boxes, bring it over here, and let me watch you open it.”
Puzzled, she’d done exactly what he’d asked. She’d grabbed one of the boxes, and as he reclined against a stack of pillows, she’d opened up that first box.
In it had been a doll. A doll just like her father had given her.
“How did you know?” she’d breathed.
“Eve told me that out of everything that was destroyed at your house, losing the dolls hit you the hardest. She knew of a man and woman who restores dolls.”
“You mean these are the originals? This is the doll—” She’d glanced over her shoulder at the stack of boxes, swiftly noting there were twenty-one of them. The exact number of dolls her dad had given her. “All of these are the originals?”
“Of course.”
She hadn’t been able to speak for several seconds. The fact that he had gone to such lengths for her went well beyond her ability to express her appreciation. Liam had understood. Instead of waiting for her to recover, he’d settled deeper into the pillows and said, “Tell me their stories.”
So while he’d rested, she had opened each box and shared the memory of what year she’d received the doll and what she remembered about the event. It had been one of the sweetest moments of her life.
After that, their days and nights had been filled with laughter, passion, and the sheer joy of being together.
They hadn’t talked about the future. Her career was in limbo. Until she could figure out a way to make her documentaries without putting anyone in danger, she would work on them by herself.
S
he had thought she was doing fine. Even her nightmares had disappeared. But then Liam had done something that had brought everything to a head.
They’d just come downstairs to prepare breakfast when, instead of heading to the kitchen, Liam had led her to a window at the far east corner of the house.
Standing behind her, he’d put his hands on her shoulders and said, “I think that’s a good place for the pool, don’t you?”
“Pool?”
“You had one at your home in Florida, and I know you were on the swim team in high school. We’ll figure out a way to enclose it during the coldest months so you can swim all year.”
Somehow, inexplicably, that had been her breaking point. Tears had filled her eyes, and she had turned into his arms with an anguished sob.
He hadn’t asked why. He had known. She hadn’t yet cried over Becca or her uncle. She hadn’t yet cried after almost losing Liam. Except for the dolls Liam had had restored for her, she had lost all her possessions and possibly her career. None of those events had broken down her defenses.
Until then.
Tears she had needed to shed for weeks had come forth like a flood from heaven. Even now, when she thought about that day, her eyes grew misty. This time though, the tears weren’t from sorrow but from the memory of Liam’s tenderness. He had understood where they’d come from, and he had just gently held her and let her cry.
After that, she’d felt a cleansing and freedom she hadn’t expected. Whatever happened in the future, she had her Lion, and that was all she needed.
The doorbell rang, bringing her out of her reverie. Wiping the dampness from her face, she went to the door and peered out. She saw footsteps in the snow, but no one was around.
Cautious, she opened the door and found two boxes waiting for her. Since they were addressed to Cat, she knew they were from Liam. Only a select few—her OZ family—knew about that name.
Picking them up, she carried them inside and placed them on the coffee table. The rectangular box was taller and much heavier than the square, flat one.
