Page 93 of Branded
“Little bird,” I said, covering her hand. “I won’t be mad, I promise.”
“Right.” She inhaled again. “Okay, so I was thinking about your dyslexia and how it’s a struggle sometimes”—her eyes flicked to mine—“not that you can’t manage it and?—”
“Honey.”
She swallowed. “Right,” she whispered. “So, I was thinking that this might help.” Leaning forward, Kailey brought her hand to the mouse, clicked the button. “So, I made this.” Teeth into her lip. “It’s just a simple plug-in, but if you click this”—another press on the mouse—“then it’ll take the text on the page and change it into one of the open-source dyslexia fonts that are supposed to make it easier to read.”
I went still.
She kept talking. “There are a few different fonts, and I didn’t know if you had a preference, so I just picked the ones with the best reviews and?—”
I looked at the page in front of me.
It was about her game.
And I could see that—read that—without a struggle.
The pile of hair on her head tipped precariously when she turned back to me. “And it’s totally something that you don’t have to use if?—”
She’d made it for me. She’d made this for me.
For. Me.
“—you don’t want to and?—”
She squeaked.
Because I tugged her down into my lap, wrapping my arms around her tightly—too tight probably—but fuck if my eyes weren’t burning as I buried my face into her throat, holding her to me and trying to breathe through the emotion that was so thick it was choking me.
“Smitty,” she whispered after several long moments. Then, “Baby” after several more.
I lifted my head, let her see what she’d done to me.
That hand on my cheek.
Her expression was soft. “You like it,” she whispered.
“I love it,” I said. “I don’t think anyone has ever done anything more thoughtful for me.”
“Really?” Her brows dragged together.
“Really.”
“That’s not right,” she told me, that frown deepening. “You deserve so much, baby. You deserve everything.”
“Fuck.”
More frowning.
“Now I need to kiss you.”
The frown smoothed. “And that’s a problem?”
“It’s a problem because I want to use it and I want to hear how you made it and I want to say thank you so fucking much because it is the most incredible thing someone has done for me, but instead, I’m going to kiss you and then I won’t be able to say all of that and?—”
Her lips hit mine.
And I found that I could show my gratitude without words.
