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Now that I’m alone, and he’s not watching me with those keen eyes, unpeeling all my defenses, I allow myself to enjoy the thoughts running through my head.
There is more to Gideon than meets the eye.
Taking me here, giving me my own room, and then the small things…
If he keeps this up, I’m going to be in so much trouble because it will be hard to leave this stuff behind. The reality is I can’t stay forever and when I go, so does all of this.
So does Gideon.
I’m pleasantly surprised to see that my bag is in my room. I don’t remember seeing it before, but I’m sure no one came in when I was showering because I locked the door.
Taking out my toiletry bag, I start my routine, and an hour later, I have a light dusting of makeup, and my hair is blown out soft and wavy.
When I slip into the buttery dress, my breath catches.
I’m a vision.
Not one to normally compliment myself, even I can’t deny that I look gorgeous.
The dress falls off my shoulders, showing a little skin—but not too much. It’s perfect.
It’s delicate and feminine and reminds me of a midsummer’s dream.
A knock on my door has me lifting my head up. I expect Gideon to stroll in like he owns the place, but when nothing happens, I walk to the bedroom door and swing it open.
There, standing in front of me, is the man who haunts my waking hours and is the lead character in my dreams.
He looks devastatingly handsome tonight.
His dark brown hair looks freshly tousled, like he just ran his hands through it, and his blue eyes look crisper when he takes me in. He’s dressed in a black sport coat, looking dashing. I realize it’s the first time I have seen him dressed up.
I like it. A lot.
“You look…” His Adam’s apple bobs.
“So do you,” I say, my eyes lowering to my feet because I feel too exposed at this moment.
Too raw.
He takes my hand, and I let him, neither of us saying a word the whole way as we walk together to the waiting car.
We’re seated and waiting to take off when I realize I haven’t thanked him.
“Gideon,” I start and then stop, trying to formulate the words before I speak them. “Thank you. For the clothes back at your place. For all this.” My eyes latch on to his. “For protecting me. Thank you.”
He nods, and I’m just about to command that he say more when he speaks. “You’re welcome, firefly. I’m happy to do all of it.”
I offer a smile, turning my head to look out the window, watching the sunset as we go. Before long, the car rolls to a stop at wherever he’s decided to take me.
“What is this place?”
“We’re in St. Paul, and this is the firefly arboretum.” He lifts his hand and points into the distance, and that’s when I see the arboretum and the garden of trees surrounding it.
As the last bits of sun fade away into the distance, the garden comes alive with the flickering light.
Standing motionless, I watch as the fireflies spiral up into the air, dipping and weaving in an intricate dance.
Their lights flash in unison, and for a moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the magic they create.
