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“Holidays here?” My gaze travels the roofline before looking at him again.

“Of course. Where else?” He laughs, but no humor is heard. “So much has changed. I’ve been staying here while you were away.”

“Staying here? Where I live?”

He chuckles again. “Yeah, where else? Figured since I’ve been working so many late nights that it only made sense to start staying here. Cuts the commute. And since you weren’t here to take care of the place, I stepped in.” His hands go out in front of him as if that will put me at ease. It does the opposite. “Only while you were gone, though. We can talk about it, though. You might like having me here full time. I should hope, considering . . .”

I’m afraid to ask for fear it might mean exactly what I think it does. I’m not ready for relationship confirmations, not yet anyway.

I’d planned to hold my amnesia close to my chest. But I still have no idea who he is, and this will get awkward if I don’t reveal the truth soon. I ask, “Who are you?”

With a wide grin, he laughs, but it favors mockery this time. “Who am I? What are you talking about, Céline?” I catch a slight annoyance flicker in his eyes before the grin is adjusted in place again.

Hrm. Not good. And since I don’t have a reasonable explanation other than the truth, I detour, and ask, “Do I get to come inside, or do I have to stand in the cold all day?”

The most authentic expression finally settles on his face, one that tells me he recognizes this version of me. One corner of his mouth rolls higher, and the blue in his eyes brightens, finally making me feel welcome. Grabbing my case, he opens the door wider and steps inside because I guess he goes first in this world. Noted. “Can’t keep you out of your own home.”

This is my home? My heart could argue otherwise.

Taking a deep breath, I stomp my shoes on the mat and enter, hoping to have answers the moment I step inside. Though I’m greeted with a huge staircase in an expansive foyer where light floods in from the windows above the door, colorful landscape paintings line the walls while beige carpet trails the stairs themselves, that doesn’t happen.

The interior is not as traditional as I first suspected when I saw the outside and the architecture. Surprisingly bright and airy, the decor has a modern beach house vibe due to the soft palette, despite the massive size of the entrance.

Céline has very good taste.

With each step echoing, it must be hard to sneak around on these marble floors. He closes the door and sets my case down near the stairs. I bend to the side to take in the grand room ahead, where a Christmas tree twinkles next to a fire crackling in the white stone fireplace. The house is cozy despite its size and even smells of cookies.

Although the creature comforts of an old-fashioned holiday decorate the home, making it pretty enough to be on a greeting card, I feel out of sorts.

He says, “I can’t believe you’re home.” I turn back to him, gripping the handles of my purse even tighter. His palm hugs his forehead as he stares at me.

Home . . . Why does he keep saying that? Each time feels like the twist of a knife. “Me either.” The absolute truth.

“I hoped you wouldn’t be gone long.”

“How long has it been?” I slowly ponder out loud, willing him to fill in the blanks.

His gaze hardens as he looks at me twice. “Well, since September. You’ve already forgotten? It was a pretty eventful exit. One I’ll never forget.”

“Just slipped my mind.” If he only knew . . .

He leans on the railing and gives me a once-over. “You look tired . . . and different. Long journey?”

Tired and different? I look down at my jeans and sweater. The photo of Céline comes to mind. I should have considered how I used to dress before arriving, but I wanted to be comfortable for the drive. Now I have regrets.

“Yes.” Be brave . . .

Besides the memories of my past, I’d almost forgotten how Loch told me, very nicely, that I wasn’t having a good day—aka being rude—before the mugging. That’s who Céline is. I need to play that part. I hold my chin up and look around nonchalantly as if this isn’t the most beautiful house I’ve ever been in.

Grabbing my free hand from behind, he spins me around abruptly and brings me into his arms. “I missed you.”

Petrified, I lean back, but I swear my heartbeats echo off the walls like my footsteps did. I pull myself together and fix my eyes on him. “Why did you miss me?”

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