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40
BRYNN
Brynn walked into the dark bedroom. The light switched on a moment later as Aaron’s masculine scent wrapped around her. Her spirit was light and free. Joy poured from her soul after such a memorable day. Her birthday usually passed with nothing more than a homemade card from Dani and a cupcake from Fred and Betty-Lou. Her gaze flicked to Aaron as he unbuttoned his shirt and headed for the bathroom.
“Your mom didn’t have to stay at Jasmine’s inn.”
He stopped in the doorway with his back to her. The room illuminated as he flicked the light on, his face turning to the side. He shrugged and pulled the shirt over his muscular shoulders before dropping it into the laundry basket.
“She wanted to give us privacy tonight.”
Because she thinks this is real.
“I can just sleep in Dani’s room since she’s at Aspen’s.”
Aaron spun around, stalking towards her. The energy in the room shifted. Brynn’s skin prickled as those dark eyes focused on her, intent and needy.
“I want you here, in my bed, where you belong.” His voice had taken on a possessive edge much like the day in the bookstore.
She shivered.
“Besides, I have another gift for you.”
“Another one? Aaron, this whole day has been more than . . .” She struggled finding a word that fit the magnitude of her gratefulness.
He took her hand, leading her over to the bed. He sat, tugging her arm so that she joined him on the mattress. “Told you it makes me happy to do things like this for you.” He reached into the side table by the bed, pulling out a box from the bottom drawer and handing it to her.
Brynn accepted the package, her gaze wandering over the silver wrapping paper and blue ribbon.
Aaron’s palm skidded up her back, rubbing up and down, soothingly. “Open it.”
Her hands trembled. She pulled at the ribbon tentatively.
“You’re killing me, baby. Just rip it open.” He chuckled, stealing some of her nerves.
She bit back a smile and tore the paper, revealing a cardboard box. Brynn pulled the flap open and stared inside at the bowl with glittery designs running through it.
Aaron took it from her, pulling out the beautiful pottery piece. “Do you know what this is?”
“A bowl?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Not just any bowl. This is made using kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery back together with gold.”
Her eyes widened. This was real gold?
“The idea is that broken pieces can be turned into something even stronger and more beautiful than their original composition by embracing the flaws.” Aaron handed the bowl to her. She carefully wrapped her hands around it.
Her eyes met his, emotion gathering in her throat, imprisoning her voice.
“I saw this and thought of you. I know you think that because of what happened, you’re not whole.” His voice softened.
She blinked, trying to keep the tears at bay.
His knuckles glided over her cheekbone before he cupped her face, tilting her head towards him. “But I wanted you to have a visual representation of what I see when I look at you. I see a woman who’s been through hell. Someone who’s faced more evil than any person should.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, her chest painfully tight. He saw all that? And yet still he was here beside her?
“I also witness your strength, unlike any other. The fight you have. It takes a fucking warrior to break the cycle. You’re not to be underestimated. And I hope you know just how amazing you are.”
