Page 89 of Possessive Park Avenue Prince

“That what you do, collect things others have tossed aside?”

I knew what he was getting at, could see the fear of rejection in his eyes. A longtime response to years of being treated a certain way. But I wouldn’t let any doubt slip in between us.

“No.” I smiled up at him. “I find the gems that people are too stupid to know they had.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever been called a gem.”

Feeling brave, I pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Rough like a diamond.”

I was about to step back when Daire snaked his arm around my waist and crushed his lips onto mine. The kiss erased all the tension that had crept in, reigniting the spark we’d let flicker on low while we stepped out of our little bubble and entered the real world.

“Sorry.”

I hadn’t needed an apology, and certainly hadn’t expected it. But that Daire wanted to give it meant the world to me.

“We’re good. I promise.”

He nodded, and I gestured to a small room at the far end of the row.

“Come on, it’s just over here.” I led him inside the room where several glass displays were kept. They housed some of the more delicate and expensive items the store had for sale, including jewelry, watches, and compasses.

I stopped in front of the display, peering through the glass top to see if there was anything new that caught my eye.

“Jesus. Does that say fifteen hundred dollars?”

I glanced at the brass aeronautical compass he was looking at. “Yeah, it’s signed by Henry Browne & Son Sestrel, circa1930s. That’s a good find. They made beautiful binnacles and compasses.”

“What the hell is a…binna?—”

“Binnacle? It’s like, hmm, a little house for a compass on a boat.”

Daire’s eyes narrowed. “Are you dumbing this shit down for me?”

“Maybe a little?”

“Appreciate that, but my knowledge of a compass ends at north, south, and our two dumbass friends.”

I laughed as I pictured East and West giving him the stink-eye. “I’m kind of a nerd about this stuff.”

“Nah, just passionate. What got you into it?”

My heart flipped at the more personal question. Small talk was not Daire’s forte. But he was tryingandsucceeding with me today. I’d never felt moreheardon a date then I did right now.

I couldn’t remember Joey ever asking why I collected compasses.

“My mom.” I smiled fondly, thinking of her sparkling hazel eyes and long blond hair. To the outside world, Kimberly Thompson was one of the most beautiful women to ever be photographed, a supermodel who’d graced the cover of nearly every fashion magazine around, and was an instantly recognizable face, but to me she was just Mom.

“When she started modeling and traveling a lot, she gave me her father’s old compass. Something to always make me think of her. It was a family heirloom, one that had been passed down for years, and I’ve been hooked ever since.”

I could feel Daire’s eyes on me, but when he didn’t respond, I thought that maybe I’d said too much.

“I’m sorry?—”

“What for?”

I turned to see his eyes searching my face, confusion furrowing his brow.“I…I didn’t mean to tell you my whole life story. Probably should’ve just stopped at ‘my mom gave it to me.’”

Daire took a step closer and reached for the hand I had resting on the glass case. “Why would you say that? I asked you a question. You answered. And your answer, by the way, was beautiful.”

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