Page 92 of Mistletoe & Magic
“Made up,” Remy corrects her with a laugh.
“Whatever,” she says with a dramatic eye roll. “I just miss Ivy.”
I crouch down and open my arms. She barrels into me, nearly knocking me over, and I hold her tight.
“I made you signs!” she says proudly.
“I saw,” I say, grinning through the tears that won’t stop. “They were perfect.”
“Are you back for good?”
I glance up at Remy, my heart catching. “Yeah,” I say softly.
“Forever?” Junie asks, her little voice hopeful.
I look back at Remy. He smiles, warm and certain.
“Forever,” I say.
Junie squeezes me tighter.
From the doorway, Tate appears with my overnight bag slung over his shoulder. “Brought your stuff,” he says, setting it down.
I look at Remy again, my heart hammering, and he just nods like everything is finally where it’ssupposed to be.
Junie pulls back and looks at me with those big, hopeful eyes that undo me every single time. “Can we read a book in here tonight? In the new library?”
My throat gets tight again. “I would love that.”
She cheers and races toward the shelves, her little boots thudding on the floor. “Which one do we read first?”
“Whichever you want,” Remy says, smiling.
“Even the big ones?”
“Even the big ones.”
Junie lets out an excited squeal and starts running her fingers along the spines. She looks so small in here, barely reaching the second shelf, but she moves with the certainty of someone who already knows this space belongs to her.
There’s even a shelf in there full of new books for her. I love that Remy thought of everything. He really would give us the world.
I stand and turn to Remy. He’s still watching me, his hands in his pockets again like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
I step closer and press a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “This is perfect, Remy. You didn’t just make me a library. You made me a home.”
His eyes soften. “I wanted you to know you belong here. That you always have.”
My heart swells until it almost hurts. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I did,” he says simply. “Because I needed you to see that I’m serious. I’m not going anywhere, Ivy. Not now, not ever. And if that means building you a floor-to-ceiling library like some fairy-tale beast, then so be it.”
I laugh, a little breathless. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” I admit. “I love you more, though.”
“Good,” he says, and kisses me again, longer this time, until Junie groans loudly from across the room.
