He nestled his face into her neck. “What’s wrong?”
Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to stay cool. But how could she? They both knew she was being weird about dressing in front of him. Usually, she didn’t think twice. “I’m getting a little nervous about seeing everyone, okay? But I’m handling it.”
He didn’t release her. Instead, he nodded against her neck. “Me too. Want some help?”
“If you’re thinking another round of sex will do it, we’re really going to be late.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to tell me why you were stomping around in here.” He tightened his arms around her. “I’ve made a study of all things Madison Garcia, and Pierre helping you dress is new as far as I can tell.”
She wanted to hang her head, so she stomped her foot. “Nothing was looking right for today. I mean… You’re dressed so nicely, and suddenly all my clothes looked wrong. And I hate that. I told you I wouldn’t change for you, and now I am. My problem. Please don’t get upset, okay?”
He rocked her in place. “I was nervous about my clothes today too, and I never question my choices. I was like, too casual? Trying to be too normal?”
Turning around, she studied his face. “You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said, the sincerity in his eyes underscoring the word. “I won’t lie to you, Mad. Ever.”
Her heart started hammering in her chest as she sank back onto her bed. “Maybe we forget clothing. Go over naked with fig leaves on. Everyone can laugh at us being in our Adam and Eve phase.”
He sat next to her on the bed. “Dean would love that idea, so I have to veto it on principle.”
She snorted out a laugh. “True. So let me sit here for a sec by myself and pull my shit together.”
Taking her hand, he caressed her palm with his thumb. “I have another suggestion.”
She eyed him warily. “What is it?”
“Hang on.”
When he left the room, she flopped back on the bed. Pierre flew over and landed beside her shoulder, making one of his assuring clicking sounds.
When Kyle came back in, he had his hands behind his back. There was a tight smile on his face. “We’re about to get really weird. If it’s too much, let’s set it aside. I will walk out of your room and meet you downstairs.”
She sat up warily. “Sell it, Kyle. Jeez, what did you do?”
He came forward finally and held up a black cotton shirt. “I was Christmas shopping and thinking of you, which I do all the time, so I went and looked for some shirts that were known for being really soft and practical. I bought you one—of course I chickened out about giving it to you. I thought—Never mind. It’s yours if you’d like to try it. But again, you don’t need to feel any obligation.”
“Kyle—shut up a sec.” She reached for the shirt and nearly sighed at how soft it was. “The fabric feels like it’s been washed a hundred times.”
“I think that was in the description,” he joked, but his blue eyes were tight at the corners.
“Doux,”Pierre squawked after rubbing his face against the fabric.
She tugged it over her head and pulled at the sleeves to adjust them. “God, Pierre’s right. It reallyissoft. And stretchy. I like shirts that have some give in them but aren’t too loose. When you cook, you don’t want anything catching on fire.”
He blanched. “Not an image I want in my head. I’ll add that consideration to the top of my list for any further purchases. If you’re cool with me buying you gifts…”
He stood there, stiff as a board, as she continued to run her fingers over the fabric. Gifts…
No one had ever given her gifts before. The recipe card from Thea sprang up in her mind, theNew Realitypart flashing bright. This would be a part of it. Hadn’t Kyle already started giving her things? Outfitting the kitchen in this house came to mind.
He was always giving people what they needed. Sometimes tangible items people would call gifts, like Sawyer’s studio. Other times it was the way he listened or helped you with a problem. He needed to be helpful. She realized it made him happy, and that aspect was the part of Operation Kyle she was starting to understand.
Giving was his way of showing how much he cared, and to make a gesture like this when he knew how independent she was, how closed off?—
She hopped off the bed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “This was brave.”
“Oui,”Pierre agreed, bobbing his head.
