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“Thank you, but I was talking about the cabin.” He winks at me, then leans in for a sweet kiss. “Really, I’m glad you like it. We’ll have to come up here more often. That is, if you want.”
I really need to stop crying. But I’m so fucking happy that my heart just wants to burst and flood my eyes with the love I’m feeling and seeing and…gawd, I’m a mess.
“I do,” I manage to whisper. “I really do.”
“Good.” He nuzzles me, then steps back and smiles down at Willow. “I saw a trail going through the woods when we pulled in. Should we go check it out?”
Willow looks uncertain. But she’s been breaking out of her shell in leaps and bounds since this morning’s fiasco, and it’s a hundred percent due to Demyen’s positive reinforcement.
So I step back and gesture gracefully to the door. “Shall we?”
She nods.
It’s a response. Communication.I’ll take it.
Baby steps, right?
23
CLARA
We crunch our way across the gravel parking area and toward the opening of the path that very much leads into the deep, dark woods. Mako and his men stroll at a reasonable distance, but they remain visible to us at all times.
It doesn’t really matter to Willow. She stops at the beginning of the path and stares fearfully into that lush green void.
Demyen holds her hand tight. I take her other hand and give it a reassuring squeeze as well.
I take a step onto the path. So does he.
Willow hesitates. She’s shaking. I’m going to call this off?—
But then she takes that first step.
Demyen winks at me.
She’s still shaking. Still fearfully glancing around. But she sees Mako, and the others, and she glances up at Demyen and me.
I smile and nod to the path to encourage her.
She steps again. And again. And again, until she’s walking at a slow but steady pace along the pine needle path. Her eyes dart around and I’m ready to assume she’s afraid, but then I realize she’s looking at the birds. The squirrels. The pinecones and dancing sunbeams.
It’s only when the tiniest smile plays across her lips that I can finally breathe again.
We walk for a while before we come to a small clearing in the woods. It’s just big enough for us and the guards to sit comfortably for a break—which, apparently, was the plan all along.
Because there’s an actual, literal, teddy bear picnic spread out over the grass.
I gasp.
So does Willow.
And before I can register the sound she just made, she breaks free from our grasps and beelines to the ring of plush teddy bears sitting around an elegant tea party. Without a single word, she tucks her legs under herself and immediately spreads a tiny, lace-trimmed napkin on her lap, carefully grabs the teapot, and pours herself a cup of what looks like juice.
I don’t know what to stare at: the picnic or Demyen.
So I choose him. Because, let’s face it—I will always choose him.
I’m sure it’s a play of light dancing on his face that makes it look like he’s blushing. He shrugs and slips his arm around my waist.
