Page 96 of The Scent of Happiness

“What do you want?” she asked. “Because I think that’s where we left things.”

“You,” he said, his voice thick. “I want to be with you, Brooke. You matter so much to me. I know that now. I never want anything to come between us. I hope I never screw up this badly again. I know this won’t make up for what I did, but…um, I’m going to stop talking now because I’m not sure I know what I’m saying anymore, and…well…here.”

He let go of her hand and thrust the journal into it, then took a step back. What did he just say? He’d rambled on, giving her vague generalities. Could she piece it together and understand what he was trying to tell her?

Brooke’s eyebrows came together and she cautiously opened the journal. Theo brought a hand to his chest to check on his heart because he hadn’t felt it beating in quite some time. Was it still there? Would it fail him now?

Brooke turned one page, then another. She lifted her head with a gasp as she realized what he’d done. “You made this?” she whispered.

“It’s all there,” he said. “Every recipe. I just put them in order. Several orders. See? Tabs.”

She let out a delighted squeal. She turned the pages faster, brushing them with her fingertips. She flipped back and forth, going from section to section, whispering the names of her soaps like they were long-lost friends.

“Brooke?”

She closed the journal and hugged it to herself. “I’ve always wanted this.”

“I know.” Theo could feel his heart now. He was alive—more alive than he’d ever been, as his heart threatened to beat right out of him. He didn’t need to walk his hands up his body because he knew the words now. All he had to tell her was the truth.

“I wish you could see the way your eyes shine so bright when you talk about making soap. The way you smile when you mix a fragrance. The way your whole body radiates delight when you smell something new. I would love to see that every day. To stand in your presence, to witness you doing what you do best, hoping that sometimes, that smile or that delight could be for me. Because I did something to make you that happy.”

“You do. You do make me happy.” Brooke put the journal on the table, wrapped her hands around his neck, and pulled him toward her so forcefully he almost lost his footing. But he found steady ground as his arms went around her. She pressed her lips to his with such passion it took his breath away. It was a kiss that felt like flying, and he never wanted to land.

“I was awful to you, and I’m sorry,” Brooke said. “You were right about me. I’m too impulsive.”

“No,” Theo said. “You lead with your heart.”

“I’m too scattered.”

“You have multiple important things in your life, and you love them all.”

“I love you,” Brooke said.

The world tilted for a moment and then righted itself. Love. Brooke loved him.

“I love the way you think,” she said. “I love the way you’re careful with your words. You’re smart and you’re funny and hot damn do I love your abs. You take good care of yourself. And I like the way you take care of me. It’s incredibly nice, the way you buy me tea and bring me food. And ice cream. I don’t know how you found that dairy that makes the ice cream. You know, the strawberry cheesecake one? Is that a local brand? Can we get more?”

An image popped into Theo’s head. Those days they’d seemed trapped in Brooke’s apartment. He’d do anything to feel that trapped again.

“We only had one date,” Brooke said. “But it was the best date I’ve ever been on. I’d love to have more dates. Real ones. We can do that now, right? Museum? Balloon ride? Because I want to make up for lost time and show you every day, every minute, how much you mean to me. That ice cream was just the beginning of—What?” Brooke glared at Emma, who had nudged her in the ribs.

Brooke turned back to Theo and covered her mouth with her hand. “Ugh, I’m doing it again,” she said between her fingers. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“Why would I?” Theo asked. “Those are the most beautiful digressions I’ve ever heard.”

Brooke shook her head. “My brain.”

Theo laughed and kissed her forehead. “It’s what I love best about you.”

Brooke giggled. “I’m going to stop using my words now because I can’t use them to explain how I feel. But this will.”

She scrambled under the table and pulled out a glass bottle about the size of a beer bottle. It was tied with a blue-green ribbon and inside was a thick liquid. Soap? Lotion?

“Bodywash,” Brooke clarified as she handed it to him. “I made it for you. Everything I feel for you—for us—is in this soap.”

“Wow,” he said. “Everything?”

She exhaled a shaky breath. “God, I hope I got it right.”