Settled on the sofa with her ice cream and a down comforter over her lap, Ella pulled out her knitting bag and got to work on the blanket, determined to focus on the project rather than wondering where Gavin was, what he was doing and whether he regretted taking off the way he had earlier.
Anger and frustration fueled her work as the multicolored yarn came together in rich pattern of pinks, blues and yellows. She couldn’t wait for the baby to arrive, to have someone new to love, to watch him or her grow up and be part of his or her life from the first day. Though she’d hoped to be a mother many times over by now, being an aunt would have to do, and she planned to be the best aunt ever to Max’s baby as well as Hannah’s.
A sob escaped from Ella’s tightly clenched jaw. She dropped a stitch and tossed aside the blanket in aggravation. It was a bad night when Ben and Jerry were unable to work their usual magic and when she started dropping stitches. That hadn’t happened since she was first learning. Her grandma Sarah, who’d said she was a knitting prodigy, would be appalled, a thought that had Ella actively sobbing.
A soft knock on the door startled her out of the pity party. She swiped at the tears that refused to stop coming, even when she tried to mop them up with the comforter.
A second knock brought her to her feet. “Who is it?”
“Me.”
She contained the powerful urge to run to the door, to throw it open, to jump into his arms. “What do you want?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“I’m not really in the mood to talk. It’s been a long day.”
“Ella, please open the door. Give me the chance to apologize. Please?”
Sighing, she went to the door, leaned her head against it for a long moment before she turned the knob. The first thing she saw and smelled were roses—lots of roses in every imaginable color—pink, red, white, yellow, coral.
“I didn’t know what color represented ‘I’m sorry for being a dick’ so I got one of each color hoping the right one is in there somewhere. And oh fuck, you’ve been crying. God, Ella, I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not crying because of you. It’s because I dropped a stitch, and I never drop stitches, even when I was angry-knitting that sweater for you.”
He leaned against the doorframe, a small smile occupying his exquisitely handsome face. “Angry knitting. Is that a thing?”
“It is when you’re involved.” She turned away from him and returned to her post on the sofa, tugging the comforter over her lap. “Come in and shut the door before Mrs. Abernathy comes up here to see what’s going on.”
He closed the door and went to the kitchen. “Where do you keep vases?”
“Under the sink.”
While he saw to putting the flowers in water, she scooped up another mouthful of ice cream, needing all the fortification she could get to deal with him. The roses had been a nice touch. She had to give him that. And they probably hadn’t been easy to find this time of night in their remote corner of Vermont.
He joined her on the couch, curling one leg under him so he could face her. “I’m sorry I left the way I did. I shouldn’t have done that, and about two seconds after I did it, I regretted it.”
Ella repeatedly dug her spoon into the pint, refusing to look at him or to acknowledge his sincere apology. That was when she realized she was well and truly angry with him for the first time. In the past, she’d been frustrated and despondent. Now she was just pissed.
“Ella.”
She continued to take out her anger on the ice cream. Poor Cherry Garcia. Then Gavin was taking the pint from her and putting it on the table. With his fingers on her chin, he compelled her to look at him. “I’m sorry I left.”
“Why did you?”
He looked away for a second before bringing his gaze back to her. “I saw that guy, and I saw red. I was afraid I’d make a scene if I stayed, that I’d embarrass you and your family by getting into it with him again.”
“So you embarrassed me by walking away from me while we were dancing, leaving me there alone with everyone looking at me?”
Wincing, he said, “Not my finest moment. I’m so sorry, Ella. I just had to get out of there before I did something stupid.”
She turned her face away from him, forcing him to remove his hand, and then gathered the comforter in closer, fortifying herself against the powerful attraction she felt for him, even when she was angry. “Landon fired him.”
“What?”
“Landon fired Ed. He doesn’t work for us anymore.”
“Simple as that?”
“Yes, Gavin, as simple as that. None of us like what he said to you, and we don’t want someone like that working for our company.”
“Wow,” he said, sagging into the back of the sofa. “That’s pretty awesome.”
“It took about five minutes after you left to get rid of him. If maybe you’d given me the chance to address it, I could’ve saved you the trouble of leaving.”
“It didn’t occur to me that you all would do that.”
“Why did it not occur to you, Gavin? Caleb was an Abbott as much as he was a Guthrie. Didn’t you think we’d be as outraged as you were by what Ed said? This fight is not yours alone. It belongs to everyone who loved Caleb and everyone who lost someone in Iraq. We are as offended by him as you are.”
“I . . .” He blinked several times in rapid succession. “Thank you.” He took a deep breath, seeming to fight with his emotions. “For being outraged, for getting rid of him, for letting me in here tonight when I hardly deserve to be here. For everything, Ella.”
“You don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing.”
He reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, running them back and forth over her knuckles. “Yes, I really do. Even though Hannah and my parents have been on this journey with me from the beginning, I’ve felt alone with it for so long. To know I’m not anymore is . . . Well, it’s amazing. You’re amazing.”
As always, his touch rendered her powerless to resist him. “You’re not alone anymore. Unless you want to be.”
“I don’t want to be. I want you. I want us. I want it all.”
“You have no idea what you do to me when you say those things.”
“What do I do? Tell me. I want to know.”
“You make me feel hopeful and giddy and excited and . . .”
He leaned in closer, so close his lips were only a few inches from hers. “And what?”
“You know.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Ella’s body heated from the inside, making all her most important parts tingle with awareness of him. “Turned on.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded.
He tugged on the comforter and tossed it aside. “Have I ever told you how hot you are in flannel?”
Ella laughed, her heart beating in rapid time as he looked at her in a way that left no room for interpretation as to what he wanted from her. “Sure I am.”
“You’re the hottest babe in flannel I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
“You should get out more.”
“I’ve gotten out plenty. I know what I’m talking about.” He ran his hands over her legs, exploring every part of her that was covered in the flannel he liked so much. “And you were smoking hot in that skirt and those heels tonight. When I walked into the Grange and saw you on that stage, I almost started to drool.”
“You had me with the roses. Just so you know.”
His hands landed on her ass and tugged her toward him, arranging them so he was above her, between her legs, looking down at her. “So the drool wasn’t necessary?”
“It was a nice touch but not critical to your recovery.”
“I love you, Ella.”
She gasped, feeling as if she’d been punched in the gut by three little words that packed a huge wallop. “You . . . you . . .”
“Love you.” He kissed her, softly, sweetly, devastatingly.