The tree looks so good in my living room, glittering and hopeful, and he looks so good here, too. Lachlan Mills has always fit into the fabric of my life, been woven in so seamlessly that it’s hard to picture who I would be without him. Him leaving was a hole ripped in a favorite sweater, a space in the shape of him, impossible to mend.
But he’s here, in my apartment, and he smells like home.
“I missed you,” Locke admits, so low I’m not sure I hear him at first. His eyes sweep from the tree to my face and land there so dizzyingly hot that I can feel my pulse in my fingertips. “Am I allowed to say that? I don’t know what’s okay anymore.”
He missed me, and his vulnerability lets me unlock a part of my heart. If he’s being brave, I need to be, too. That’s the thing about your worst fears. Sometimes you have to face them. And if you’re strong and you’re lucky, sometimes you win.
“I missed you, too,” I whisper, then correct myself. “Miss.”
“I’m so sorry, Greer.” His jaw tightens, and pain clouds his eyes. “I got so scared at the idea of losing you that I pushed you away myself.”
I draw in a shaky breath because it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and I can’t reopen that wound unless I know it’ll heal. But Locke takes a step closer to me like he wants to hold me just as badly as I want to hold him, and the pain loosens its grip on my heart.
“The last few days, I kept remembering these conversations I had with my best friend where we talked about how the only moment that matters is the one right here.” His brutally earnest gaze locks on mine and strips away my ability to breathe. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here, Greer. But I want to fix us, and I’m prepared to grovel.” He slips into a smile. “I even practiced.”
“What?” I laugh. “You practiced?”
Locke nods and flashes a self-effacing grin that showcases his chiseled cheekbones. “Well, first, see, I had to fix the minor issue of taking a job across the country.”
“You did, huh?”
Locke spreads his hands. “Everything I want is right here, so I told Curt and David I couldn’t make the move. But there’s still the matter of the management-level opening on the Seattle team.”
My heart skips as I start to understand. “Damien’s job?”
Locke nods. “They asked if I wanted to fill the role since I’m no longer going to move.”
My throat goes dry. “What did you tell them?”
“I told them I’d have to get back to them.”
I feel my forehead crease as I stare at him in disbelief. “Why wouldn’t you just say yes?”
Locke closes the distance between us and takes my hands in his. My whole body lights up at his touch, and I feel myself shake at how much I want this. How much I want him.
He trails a hand up to the side of my face and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “If I remember correctly, this whole thing between us started when your ex became your boss.”
“And if you take the job, you’d run the department,” I fill in, the realization settling over me.
“Yeah.” His hands linger on my skin, and I breathe in his familiar scent. “I can’t accept the position unless it’s going to work for you, too. You’re more important to me than any job or city, Greer. Those things aren’t my life. My life is with you.” He searches my eyes, hope and love and longing all mixed together. “I mean, if you still want me.”
It’s not even a question. “Of course I want you.”
Locke’s hands fall to my waist, and he pulls me against his chest so close that I can’t breathe, but who cares about breathing, anyway, when your heart is filled with this much love.
Locke runs his hand down my cheek like he’s savoring this moment, then traces my lower lip with this thumb. By the time he brings his mouth to mine, I’m so aching and wet for him that I almost moan. And when his lips claim mine, everything raw inside me knits me back together, stronger than ever before.
We kiss hello and I missed you and welcome back. We kiss please and thank you and you’re mine. And when we break apart, laughing and crying, Locke kisses away all my tears. His stubble rasps against my cheeks in the happiest, best kind of way.
“Are you sure?” he asks.
I nod and laugh and band my arms around his back. With my eyes locked on his, I whisper a poem that he read to me an hour ago in the tub and a week ago in his room, one that I’ve learned by heart. “I am choosing this life with two hands and an open heart and buckets of honey.”
“Oh my god, Greer, I love you so fucking much.” Locke crushes his lips against mine again, and I kiss him back, my heart and his together, and everything else flying away. He tastes like mint and happiness. Like winter and spring and every holiday in between.
“How’d you know what I wanted for Christmas?” I ask, grinning against him.
“Oh!” he says, drawing back a bit. “Speaking of which.” He traces his footsteps back to the front door and bends to scoop a handful of Tupperware containers out of his backpack. “I brought you food.”
I shake my head with a teasing smile. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” I wave a hand between us. “We could have saved all this and gotten straight to the yes.”
“Good to know for the future,” Locke says with a smile that catches fire in my chest. He saunters across the room and places the containers in my hands.
“What’d you bring me?” I crack open the top lid to reveal a fragrant, fruity condiment spiced with