Page 58 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

I lean forward with every reveal.

Uncle Drosselmeyer and the Nutcracker, the Rat King, Sugar Plum Fairies, on and on and on. The atmosphere is magical, everyone captivated.

I find myself looking at the audience too, checking if they’re as infatuated as I am.

They are. There are couples of all ages and families too.

My heart softens.

The ballet, we had discussed, would be a tradition we could share with our children. Now I can’t shake the image of a child sitting on Trevor’s lap, rapt at the splendor of everything.

We wanted to share that wonder with each other and then with something bigger than ourselves. A child. Ours.

With each leap and twirl, my heart races not just for the story on stage but for the way our hands intertwine, creating a bond in this magical atmosphere.

I can’t believe it feels like something is beginning again between us.

I don’t know what that would look like, with me going back to Seattle and Trevor here, but…could we do it? Be together? Now that we know that there is still love between us? Still desire?

As the ballet rolls to its conclusion, I realize we are leaning against one another, as close as we can be given our throne like chairs.

“Thank you for bringing me tonight,” Trevor says in my ear, hot breath sending goosebumps across my skin.

“I should be thanking you.”

And though there is magnificence playing out on the stage, the most beautiful leaps and sashays, we are focused on each other.

Trevor’s thumb strokes the back of my hand. “I’ve missed you, Iris.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“I don’t want to miss you anymore.”

The audience erupts in applause, but I can’t be pulled away from Trevor.

The celebration feels like it’s for us.

So, I lean in, and I kiss him.

Trevor’s hand goes to my cheek, stroking my skin like I am made of porcelain.

Music swirls, lights brighten, the audience adulates.

He breaks the kiss, and I hide my disappointment.

I could have kept going and going until our tongues were weaving and hands were groping. I don’t care that we’re at the ballet. I need him.

Trevor, however, is stronger than I am. He laughs, cheeks reddening. “Would I be crazy to say I don’t want the night to end yet?”

“Of course not.”

“Then can I take you home?”

My heart stutters.Home. “You mean…”

“Yeah.” He pushes some hair out of my face, eyes soft and smile sad. “Can I take youhome, Iris?”

11

---