Page 117 of When Hearts Collide

I’m sitting on the heated patio outside the sliding glass doors of his spacious living room, which is a statement of masculine luxury with dark wood paneled walls and the occasional pop of colors from the vases of daffodils around the apartment.

He’s taken to ensuring every room in his place has those bright yellow flowers.

He said they reminded him of me.

It’s been a week since Christmas, with today being New Year’s Day. Except for a few work calls and meetings, Ryland has never left my side. We haven’t talked about me going home or how we’ll deal with his problems in the future. This one week has been a break for both of us.

Living out the what-ifs and what could-bes like a dream.

And tomorrow, we have to return to reality, where other tomorrows aren’t certain once more.

I wish I had a cup of hot chocolate or even a bag of gummy bears. Maybe that’ll distract me from my melancholy thoughts.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Ryland asks from behind me and I turn around.

He’s holding two large red mugs in his hands, the thick scarf I knitted him before placed over his arm. His hair is slightly disheveled in that sexy, I just rolled out of bed, way. He’s wearing a blue T-shirt that’s molded to his body like a second skin, showcasing all those muscles that have been used to pin me down in the past. My pulse kicks up a new rhythm.

I’ll never get used to the sight of him.

“It was wonderful. The chili was delicious and perfect for this weather. Please tell Gretchen thank you for me.”

“She’ll be pleased. She doesn’t cook for anyone you know. But I’ve always loved her chili…even more than some foods the chef prepares or from the restaurants on the floors below.”

A flash of red in my peripheral vision distracts me.

A little bird lands on top of the railing—a cute little thing with a white body flecked with brown on his back and startling red patches on his head and his chest. He’s warbling a light melody as he shakes his feathers.

I lean toward the bird, not wanting to spook it, but I’ve never seen anything like it before.

It cocks his head and stares at me like it’s deciding if I’m a threat. Then, with another flap of his wings, he sings another trilling melody before flying away and becoming a tiny dot against the brilliant skies.

Its presence may have been fleeting and minuscule, but it left a lasting imprint.

“That’s the acanthis flammea, otherwise known as the common redpoll,” Ryland says as I turn back around. He’s staring into the skies, a yearning in his eyes.

“Despite the name, they are rare in New York City. Perhaps it was stopping by for a bit of rest before heading back north. A sighting can be considered a jackpot in the birdwatching community.”

I bite back a giggle. “You told me you like birdwatching before, but I didn’t quite believe it until now.”

He chuckles. “It takes a certain mindset and patience to admire birds. They’re unpredictable and yet there are patterns you can rely on. Even so, you never know what you may encounter. You also need to stop and focus on your surroundings to see them because they are so small, so unassuming, they typically blend into the background.”

His head swivels toward me. “But the best things come in small packages.” His eyes hold mine for a few seconds, leaving no doubt what he’s referring to.

My face heats and my heart triples in size.

Giving me a quick wink, he traipses over and hands me one of the mugs.

I look inside.

Hot chocolate with tiny marshmallows and a hint of whip cream, just the way I like it.

Of course he’s a fast learner.

He then carefully wraps the scarf around my neck, making sure I’m warm in the cold elements.

My nose twitches, a heat spreading inside my chest, and I stare at his grinning face. His lips are tugged up in a boyish smile, and I bite back a smile of my own before taking a sip and setting the mug back on the table.

It’s perfect.

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