So much for thinking that she’d never see Gavin again. She hadn’t considered the reality that they were part of the same circle, now more than ever with her event planning business well off the ground. They were bound to run into each other under professional circumstances now and then.
They might even have to work together again—although she’d received an email from one of his other security operatives about the bachelor auction plans. Maybe Gavin was planning to dump her off on someone else if actual collaboration was required.
Coward.
Annoyed with herself at the uncharitable thought—because Gavin Knight was anything but a coward, even if he couldn’t face the reality of his own damned heart—Freya took a sip of hot cocoa and forced her attention to her laptop screen.
In the three weeks since the wedding, she’d rearranged her apartment and turned half of her living room into a small but organized office complete with a sky-blue scalloped desk and wooden filing cabinet, a bookshelf filled with binders of event details, a wall calendar, and a bulletin board pinned with notes and photos.
With a few stumbles, she had developed an efficient organizational system to plan both the anniversary party and the Cream of the Crop auction, as well as a Christmas wedding and a child’s tenth birthday party. Though she still battled nerves at the idea that people were actually paying her to plan and execute their celebration of once-in-a-lifetime moments, Freya was beyond grateful for both their trust and for everything that had led her onto this path.
Especially Gavin. Even before seeing him yesterday, not an hour had passed when she hadn’t thought of him and his pained, “I need you” that still echoed inside her. She didn’t want him to hurt—not anymore—but she didn’t want herself to hurt either. And given their totally different approaches to life and apparent lack of ability to collaborate long-term, hurt was unavoidable unless they parted ways romantically.
Although parting ways had proven to be more than just hurtful. It was a pain gnawing at her from the center of her heart. She was able to keep it at bay while she worked, not wanting to give her new clients anything less than her hundred-percent focus and attention, but alone at night her longing for Gavin bloomed sharp and jagged.
Nothing, not even ice cream for dinner and all-night Princess Bride marathons had mitigated the simple, unbearably complex fact that she still loved him deeply. Maybe she always would. If Granny were alive, she’d tell Freya that falling in love was the most powerful way of creating beauty that she could dream of. Because what was more beautiful than love?
Being loved in return.
Which Gavin, the big stupid lug, did not remotely understand.
With a groan, Freya rose from her desk and opened the curtains. A bright blue sky skimmed over the rooftops, and a gleaming golden sun rose over the horizon. Just another perfect fall day in coastal California that brought her own cloudy mood into even sharper focus.
At least she had a meeting this afternoon with a florist to go over ideas for the anniversary centerpieces—flowers always made life brighter. Until the petals fell off, and they wilted and died.
Good lord. Too much more of this, and she’d have to go Goth with dyed black hair, tragic black clothes, and heavy eyeliner. That would never do.
She poured herself a bowl of cold cereal and ate it in front of her laptop as she reviewed her tasks for the day. Her phone buzzed with a text from Jupiter.
Can you stop by Rainsville Wild Child around 9—Ramona is making a delivery and I’m in Indigo Bay, just need help with the counter for about an hour.
Since Freya’s first meeting wasn’t until one, she texted back: Sure. I’ll head over soon.
Jupiter’s reply came right away: Thanks! Also, can we have dinner Fri night, just you and me? Lotus Indian Cuisine? With all the wedding hoopla, we haven’t gotten together much the past few months. I miss you.
Relief and pleasure filled Freya’s chest. There was nothing she needed more right now than to commiserate with her best friend over fragrant curry and a bottle of wine.
I’d love that, she texted back. Call me when your shift is over.
Happy to have something to look forward to, she slipped her phone into her bag. She figured she could work the rest of the morning on her laptop at the Rainbow Palace after helping at the counter, then head to her meeting.
She dressed professionally in a pink pleated, tea-length skirt and tailored white blouse with a Peter Pan collar. She fastened her hair into a high ponytail and packed her laptop and necessary folders into her leather messenger bag.
She drove to the Rainsville branch of Rainbow Palace, housed in an newly refurbished building with brightly colored awnings and flowerboxes. There was always a morning rush for Declairs when the doors first opened at six, but by now the crowd had settled into customers who lingered at the round tables with their coffee and pastries, talking, working, and reading.
“Lifesaver!” Ramona bowed in front of Freya, her tattooed arms outstretched and her ponytailed dreadlocks swinging. “I can’t believe I forgot to put the delivery on the schedule. It’s a three-tiered cake for the anniversary of the hardware store. You’ll be okay alone?”
“Sure.” Freya took a minute to admire the elaborate cake—meticulously decorated with fondant hammers, saws, wrenches, and screwdrivers.
As Ramona loaded the cake into the van, Freya pulled on a purple Rainbow Palace apron and set about restocking the baskets in the glass display cases. She always enjoyed working at the bakery’s front counter. Jupiter, who knew all about creating warmth, had turned the bakery into a delightful, welcoming place with bohemian décor and local artwork, not to mention delicious pastries.
Freya bustled around, refilling teacups, packaging cakes, filling éclairs with cream, and chatting with the regulars. She set a tray of vanilla cupcakes on the counter and loaded a pastry bag with strawberry buttercream. As she started to pipe the frosting onto the cakes, the wind chimes over the door jingled, signaling a customer.
Focused on finishing the perfect buttercream swirl, Freya didn’t immediately look up. Then a deep male voice spoke, one that she would recognize in her dreams.
“I’ll have a caramel-chocolate mochaccino with extra chocolate, a shot of toffee syrup, vanilla whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles,” he said.
Freya straightened, her heart thumping so fast it was either about to take flight or burn out. Gavin stood on the other side of the counter, unbearably beautiful in a gray suit and tie, his dark hair gleaming and his gaze fixed on her.
“Plus a Declair,” he added. “Please.”
Her throat tightening, she couldn’t get any words out. She didn’t have any left. She’d said all she could possibly say to him—at least, until he gave her some words in return.
She went automatically to the coffee machine and started to steam the milk.
Wait… what?
“You want a caramel-chocolate mochaccino?” She turned to him in disbelief.
“With extra chocolate, toffee syrup, vanilla whipped cream, and rainbow sprinkles,” he said. “The Freya Special.”
“What happened to black coffee, no sugar?”
“Black coffee is getting dull,” he said. “And I’m starting to like sugar.”
A tiny hope nudged at Freya’s heart. She tried to suppress it as she turned back to the coffee machine to make him her creation. She’d spent well over a year hoping for something to happen with Gavin. And when it finally had, she’d hoped even harder that it would last. Maybe, like words, she’d also used up all her hopes.
Except—who was she kidding? She was made of hope. Even in her darkest hours after Granny died, Freya had clung to the belief that her grandmother was now painting the stars with bright colors and glitter. Even sitting in her claustrophobic cubicle at the insurance agency, she’d drawn smiley faces on the reports in the hopes that they’d brighten someone’s day, especially in the face of an insurance claim.
She’d hoped for Jupiter’s relationship with Josh to work. She’d hoped the Rainbow Palace would succeed. She’d hoped the best for her friends as they started new jobs and got married. She’d hoped her favorite Indian restaurant would start taking reservations, and that the dry cleaner would get the wine stain out of her blue floral skirt.
And for Gavin, she still hoped. Desperately. But that didn’t mean she’d let down her guard, especially not the one she’d built around her heart.
She swirled whipped cream onto the mochaccino and decorated it with rainbow sprinkles before placing it on the counter in front of him. She fetched a Declair from the secret stash in the walk-in fridge, placed it on a plate, and set it next to the coffee.
“Five fifty,” she said.
He handed her a twenty and waved away the change. He picked up the mochaccino and took a sip. To his credit, he didn’t wince as the sweet-enough-to-hurt-your-teeth concoction hit his tongue. He merely set the mug down and nodded.
“Tasty,” he remarked, with a slight cough.
Freya gestured to his mouth. His beautiful, well-shaped mouth that could produce such a gorgeous smile, and that she so loved to kiss and lick…
Down, girl.
“Whipped cream,” she said.
Gavin reached for a napkin. Before he could bring it to his mouth, Freya wiped the cream off his upper lip with her fingers. Shivers raced clear up her arm. A hint of stubble abraded her fingertips, his breath touched her skin, and a thousand memories flooded her of all the delicious things he could do with that mouth.
Seriously. Down, girl.
His blue eyes flared with a light closely resembling the one that had flickered to life inside her the second she saw him standing there.
No. Heart guard.
She stepped back, shoving her hands into her apron pockets.
“What are you doing here, Gavin?”
“Hoping for a third chance.”
She drew in a breath and looked at the strawberry-frosted cupcakes to conceal a surge of anticipation.
“Why?” she asked, managing to keep her voice steady.
He didn’t respond. Ramona strode in from the kitchen, dusting off her hands and announcing the hardware store owner was thrilled with the cake.
“Thanks for helping out,” she told Freya.
“No problem.” Freya glanced at Gavin, knowing he wouldn’t want to have a private conversation in such a public place. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No,” he said. “I can say what I need to say right here.”
Ramona lifted an eyebrow, looking from Gavin to Freya and back again. She crossed her arms and leaned against the counter.
“Go for it,” she invited.
Gavin bent to take something out of a paper bag resting at his feet. He set a ceramic pot on the counter in front of Freya. A few green shoots topped with brownish seed pods emerged from a layer of dirt.
“This is for you.” He gestured to the pot as if he were presenting an elaborate floral bouquet.
Freya peered at the curved little shoots. “What are they?”
“Sunflowers,” Gavin explained. “You can start them indoors and then plant them outside, so I figured it would be good for your apartment.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.”
“I wanted to get you something that would grow and bloom, so I didn’t get cut flowers. And it’s a flower that’s like the sun, which reminds me of you.”
Her hope flourished a little harder. The bakery had gone oddly quiet, as most of the customers had turned their attention to what was going on at the counter. Thankfully there was no one in line behind Gavin to interrupt him.
He reached into the bag again and produced a stack of her granny’s coloring books, which he set beside the flowerpot. Freya picked one up and leafed through it. Every last one of the illustrations was meticulously colored, the images leaping from the page into bright, vibrant life.
Freya’s throat tightened. Granny was smiling down on them from the rafters.
She set the book back on the pile, knowing the entire stack was colored in the exact same way.
“Is this how you’ve been spending your spare time?” she asked.
“When the rom-coms got a little too much for me,” he admitted.
She smiled. Behind his glasses, his eyes warmed, though a hint of caution remained. He walked around the counter to approach her, closing his hands on her shoulders. His touch was like an anchor, a homecoming.
“I’m sorry,” Gavin said, a shadow passing across his face. “I’m sorry for every single second I pretended to ignore you. Every instant I did or said something that hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner what an incredible gift you are. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you every chance I had that you made my heart come back to life. That because of you, I can see a future that isn’t only focused on work.
“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner how you’d turn my life around, fill it with everything good. I’m sorry I didn’t know I was the luckiest bastard on earth to have caught the attention of Freya Donovan, the girl who creates beauty in the world just by existing. I’m sorry I didn’t do everything I could to hold on to you forever. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit sooner that I love you, that you had my heart the minute you looked at me.”
Although Freya was well-versed in French romantic poetry, no sonnet or rondeau could compare to hearing those words from the man she still loved wildly. Light and air filled her whole body, lifting her heart like a balloon. In front of her, Gavin’s face went all blurry behind her sudden sheen of tears.
“I know all that now.” His throat worked with a swallow. “And I want to be with you, to give you everything you need. If you still want to be with me.”
A heavy, expectant hush fell over the bakery. Freya didn’t respond right away, not because she wanted to keep everyone waiting but because things with Gavin had hurt. Maybe she’d gotten a little huffy when he’d ignored her flirting, but that had been nothing like the pain at the realization that their differences would drive them apart. She didn’t want to feel that kind of pain again.
He slid his hands down to hers. His hands were so big that hers were engulfed in his grip. Just one of the many things she loved about him—the fact that he could wrap himself fully around her.
“What changed your mind?” she asked.
“You did. You changed everything. My mind, my heart, my soul. You showed me what a future with you can look like, if I let it. Turns out I like hot cocoa and the color pink. And that Princess Bride movie isn’t bad.”
“Hmm.” She narrowed her eyes, even though her heart had most definitely taken flight and was now soaring over fields laden with sunflowers. “Isn’t bad might not be enough for me. We’ll have to work on that, maybe with a Princess Bride marathon and ice-cream sundaes.”
“As you wish.”
Well, that did it.
She closed the distance between them and slid her arms around his waist as applause burst around them. His eyes crinkling with a smile behind his glasses, Gavin slipped his hand under her chin and lowered his mouth to hers. Freya’s whole being flared with anticipation, but the instant before their lips touched, a raucous noise broke through the air.
Her heart jolted, her arms tightening around Gavin. She jerked away from him to stare at the customers, all of whom had risen to their feet and were blowing noisemakers and horns, and firing off party poppers.
Rainbow confetti and streamers exploded throughout the bakery. The doors burst open, and Jupiter ran in, wielding a huge bouquet of multicolored helium balloons. Cheers, applause, and laughter rose like a tidal wave.
Her heart still hammering wildly, Freya’s gaze flew to Gavin in both shock and concern about his reaction to the chaos. But he was only looking back at her and smiling, his blue eyes as warm as a summer sky.
“Surprise,” he said.
“Gavin Knight.” Freya laughed, pressing a hand to her chest. “I can’t believe you arranged all this.”
“Your mission to make me like surprises seems to have worked.” He put his hand under her chin again and drew her closer. “But you’re my best surprise of all.”
This time their lips met in a kiss that sizzled with love and countless promises. Freya curled her fingers into the back of his suit jacket, feeling his heart beating right against hers, their bodies fitting perfectly together.
Oh, beautiful destiny that always set you on the right path to fulfilling your deepest wish.
Even working at Ye Olde Insurance Agency had had a point because without being stuck, she wouldn’t have gotten unstuck. And she might never have found her way into Gavin Knight’s arms, exactly where she was meant to be.
“Miss Donovan.” Gavin broke their kiss and slid his hand over her cheek, his eyes filled with all the things she’d longed to see—love, devotion, and a pure, warm tenderness reserved only for her. “I love you.”
He bent to ease one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back. In a swift movement, he lifted her against him. Freya gasped when her feet left the ground, though there was nowhere in the world she felt safer than cradled against Gavin’s powerful chest.
“What are you doing?” She slipped her hand over his shoulder.
“Taking you home.” He pulled her closer, his grip secure and possessive. “I’ll come back for the sunflowers and balloons.”
To continued applause and a rainshower of confetti, he strode to the open door with her in his arms. Freya couldn’t stop smiling, exhilaration and love spinning through her like cotton candy.
“When did you become such a romantic?” she asked.
“When I started believing in epic, swashbuckling tales of true love,” Gavin said. “That is to say, when I first met you.”
He winked at her and stepped into the sunshine.
THE END.