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“I’m beginning to understand that,” she said, her voice clogged with emotion. “I . . . I’ll support whatever you choose to do with your life, Chloe.”

“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say that.” When I opened my eyes, I saw Blake headed from the back room with a handful of models, looking unsure of whether he should even approach.

“Blake!” I called over to him.

My mother released her hold to look behind her. “Is that him?”

“What . . . What do you mean?”

“The boy you’ve been spending all of your time with?” she said with a half smile. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know.”

“Mom, this is Blake,” I said as I motioned for him to join us. “He’s worked just as hard on this space as I did. For weeks, he helped me bring it all together. All of the shelves were built by hand.”

“Very impressive,” my mother said.

“It’s your daughter who’s impressive.” Blake smiled at me and then shot out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?” Surprise filtered through my mother’s eyes, quickly followed by relief—maybe that I didn’t totally disregard her, after all.

“It’s a pleasure, Blake,” she said. Then she turned to me. “I’d better head back out there to the other committee members. How about dinner on Sunday? Maybe Blake can join us.”

Even though I knew she probably just wanted to find out more about him, I was secretly thrilled at her offer.

“Thank you,” Blake said. “I’d like that.”

As my mother left the shop, Blake moved behind me and slid his arms around my waist. “Are you okay?” He pulled me firmly against him.

I smiled. “I’m actually pretty darn good.”

As a group of customers entered the store, Blake spun me around and gave me a heated kiss that was too short for my liking.

“When can I get you alone?” he whispered against my lips, and my skin prickled with longing.

“Let’s meet back here later tonight,” I said, and his eyes ignited with desire. “I think we have a runway to christen.”