An Unexpected Gift (Insta-Spark)

He had mentioned a trust fund before, but I hadn’t paid much attention. Confused, I smiled. “Good.”

He huffed out a breath and held out his hand, tugging me close when I slid my palm against his.

He looked down at me, pushing a curl behind my ear.

“Hear me out?” he asked, his voice serious.

I nodded.

“I told you my family lives a life I’m not comfortable with. Frivolous and greedy. I rarely touch my trust fund. In fact, it’s larger now than when I got it. I’ve invested most of it, and I only use it for important things.”

“Okay.”

He tightened his arms. “You’re important, Holly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want you to work. I want to have you here with me. You can do whatever you like. Hang around the house with Chester. Sketch and paint. Take some online courses.”

“But I have to contribute. I didn’t come here to sponge off of you.”

“You wouldn’t be sponging.” He regarded me intensely. “I want—I need—to look after you, Holly. You need that. No one has ever looked after you properly before. Put you first. I will. I will always put you first. Let me care for you. I want to see you sleep in, relax, putter around the house and make it ours. Read. Take baths. Make us sandwiches and have lunch with me. I want you around.”

He paused. “I need it as much as you do. Settle in. Get to know Carol and Tara. Decide what you really want to do, because for the first time in your life, you can take the time to do so.” He leaned down and kissed my nose. “I don’t want you working and tired.”

The thought of not being on my feet for hours at a time was tempting. Not smelling like grease and having to face endless strangers, smiling as I filled coffee cups and carried heavy trays. The idea of being here with Evan and making a home for both of us was a lovely thought. Exploring my options for school, not having to worry if not taking that extra shift meant dipping into my savings for the heating bill.

He met my gaze, his anxious for a different reason than mine.

“Please,” he whispered. “Let me.”

“Only if I can help you with your business. I’m good with numbers.”

His eyes crinkled in happiness. “Then you’re hired. I hate doing the books.”

“Okay, then.”

He pressed his mouth to mine.

“Okay.”

I relaxed against the porcelain tub, the steam rising from the water—a mist in the air. My gaze took in the room. Evan’s en suite was larger than my whole bedroom had been in Connie’s place. After an early dinner, he’d insisted I have a bath and relax.

“It’s been a long trip, Angel. You must be tired.”

“You’re the one who did all the driving,” I pointed out. As I discovered, Evan liked to be in control behind the wheel. He had looked affronted when I offered to drive, informing me that it was his job to do so and my job to enjoy the scenery. I had struggled not to laugh at his over-the-top reaction, realizing that it was his way of looking after me. And I was enjoying the sights. Having never been out East—even with the snow—the landscape was beautiful. He often pulled over so I could take a picture, and at one point, had stopped and bought me a new sketchbook and pencils in case I felt like drawing. He made the entire trip about me, and I loved every moment of being with him.

I sighed in contentment. I had never had a bath in such a lar

ge tub until now. I used some of the bath salts Evan had given me for Christmas and the room smelled of lilacs and roses.

The door opened, and Evan came in, carrying a glass of wine and a rolled towel. He set down the wine beside me and flipped his fingers. “Head up.”

I lifted my head, and he slid the towel under my neck. The softness and warmth felt good, and I grinned at him. “You heated it up.”

He returned my grin and dropped a kiss to my head. “I learned that from you. You heated up the towel and warmed my feet. Just repaying the favor. I ordered a bath pillow for you online, but this will do until it comes.”

I gripped his hand. “Evan—you don’t have to get me a pillow. Or anything else. I’m fine.”