Show Time (Juniper Ridge Romantic Comedies #1) - Tawna Fenske Page 0,93

up my hands and saying ‘I’m done.’”

“You’re the bravest person I know,” I say. “Even before I saw you climb a tree topless or beat the crap out of Andrea.”

“You’re pretty brave yourself.” She looks down at our intertwined hands. “Brave is saying ‘I love you’ when you’re not sure the other person’s going to say it back.”

I suppose that’s true, though I hardly deserve credit. “I’m just telling you how I feel. I should have done that a long time ago.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “There’s a lot we both could have done differently.”

I take another deep breath. I’m still nowhere near making this right. Unlacing my fingers from hers, I reach under my desk and pull out the box. “I can sit here spouting words all day long, but it won’t make up for what I did,” I tell her. “Words are one thing. Actions are another.”

“What do you mean?”

I reach into the box and pull out the first object. “The remote control to my office TV.” I place it in her hand as an offering, smiling as she curls her fingers around it. “For the record, I’ve never let anyone touch it.”

She laughs and holds it up to look at it. “I’m honored. Also a little confused.” She flicks the power button on and then off again. “How does rendering your television useless solve anything?”

“It doesn’t, but I wanted to show I can give up control. It’s my lame attempt at symbolism.”

“Not that lame.” She gives me a small smile and sets the remote aside. “What else?”

Could this really be working? I don’t dare hope as I reach into the box again. “My coffee mug.” I set it on the desk in front of her. “I’ve had this for twelve years. It was a present from the first director I ever worked with, and I’ve always been petrified someone would break it.”

She turns it around on the desk, frowning. “You’re not giving me this, are you?”

“Yes. I even washed it.” That sounded dorky. “Still going for the symbolism, I guess. I trust you with one of my most treasured possessions.”

“That’s…sweet.” She laughs. “A little weird, but sweet.”

This next thing stands a good chance of falling flat. I don’t know how she’ll take it. If I’ll be opening up old wounds.

But I have to take a chance. If I’ve learned nothing else today, that’s it. I reach into the box again. My fingers close around bent metal and round, glossy beads. As I pull out the abacus, Vanessa gasps.

“Where did you get that?”

“Is it the same one?” I hoped it might be, but I wasn’t sure. “Maybe not identical, but it’s like what you had as a kid?”

She nods, tears filling her eyes. She reaches out and strokes a finger over a row of blue wooden beads. “It’s just like it.”

“I thought so. The way you described it sounded like the one I had growing up. After you told me that, I called my mom and asked her to ship it to me.”

Her eyes snap to mine, and her lips part slightly. “This was yours? The one you had as a kid?”

I nod, feeling simultaneously silly and hopeful. “We’ve got a lot of heirloom jewelry in my family. My mom’s always urged me to go through it. That I might want a ring to propose with someday.” I never took her up on it with Andrea. It never felt right, handing over a family treasure. “Anyway, I called my mom after you told me your abacus story. I said, ‘I’m in love with the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, and I’ll probably want that ring soon. But I need something else.’”

A tear slips down her cheek, and she doesn’t bother brushing it away. Instead, she reaches out to touch the abacus. “It’s beautiful.”

If I didn’t already love her, this would be the moment I fell. The instant she looked at my battered childhood toy and found it as precious as any diamond.

Don’t worry, I got the ring, too. There’s plenty of time for that without scaring the shit out of her. Right now, this means more.

“I love you, Vanessa. I love your brains and your beauty and how the bumps in your road have made you the brave and amazing woman you are. I love that you don’t need me, but that you might be willing to make room for me in your life anyway.” I pause, grinning. “And I love that you dig numbers as much as I