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her,” he said softly, winking at me.
    “Good. Can we dance now?”
    Everyone laughed as Princess Arwen grabbed her father’s hand and pulled him toward the dance floor.
       
    Nathan Reynolds was a man on a mission.
    Over the next few weeks, getting to know everything about me had become a religion to him. He quizzed me incessantly about the most mundane things, such as my favorite color and my best subject in school. I learned that he loved to play guitar and really did have a beautiful singing voice, which I had the pleasure of hearing night after night as he sang his daughter to sleep.
    After our bedtime story, of course.
    It had become our little ritual, and while Annalise was still afraid we were moving too fast, and that I was becoming too attached, my nights with Nathan and Arwen were some of the happiest I’d ever known.
    “You look so happy,” Nathan whispered. He was sitting in his usual spot on her bedroom floor with his sketchbook in his lap. The only sound in the room was our relaxed breathing, his daughter’s soft snores, and the scratching of his pencil against the paper.
    Shifting on the bed, I ruffled Arwen’s curls and sighed contently. “I am very happy. Do you know what would make me even happier?”
    “What’s that?”
    “If you’ll show me whatever it is you’re drawing.”
    Nathan grinned shyly, his eyes never leaving the paper. “It’s not done yet.”
    “You keep saying that.”
    “Because it’s true.”
    “You’ve been working on it for weeks. Since our first dinner, actually.”
    He hummed and continued to draw. I loved watching him work. He was always focused—so determined to catch every little detail in whatever his subject might be. I loved the way his brow would crease whenever he’d have to erase a line, and I loved how the tip of his tongue would just barely be visible as he worked on a particularly detailed part of the picture.
    I loved him.
    And I loved his daughter.
    Was it too soon to tell him?
    Probably.
    I carefully climbed out of bed and placed Arwen’s favorite stuffed animal in her arm, tucking the blanket around her. Leaning down, I kissed her forehead.
    “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”
    When I turned around, Nathan was standing next to the door. His eyes were soft and warm as he moved closer to the bed. After kissing his daughter’s cheek, he reached for my hand and slowly led us out of her room, closing the door behind us.
    “It’s ready,” Nathan said softly.
    “The picture?”
    He nodded.
    Grinning like a kid at Christmas, I tried pulling him toward the living room, but he wouldn’t budge.
    “In here,” he whispered, and my stomach did somersaults as he led me to his bedroom. I’d never actually seen his room, only passing it on my way to Arwen’s each night. The room was definitely masculine, decorated in deep chocolate and hunter green. The king-sized bed was facing the mounted plasma screen, and sliding glass doors revealed a pretty terrace. A love seat was nestled in the corner, and that’s where Nathan led me. Once we were settled, he handed me the sketchbook.
    “First page.” His voice trembled slightly.
    “You don’t have to show me, Nathan.”
    “I want to. It’s just . . . it’s quite possibly the most meaningful sketch I’ve ever drawn, so I’m a little nervous.”
    Very slowly, I lifted the cover of the sketchbook, my eyes instantly filling with tears when I saw the image on the page.
    It was Arwen’s bedroom, and she and I were nestled in her bed with a storybook in my lap.
    I quickly wiped my cheeks. The last thing I wanted was to ruin his beautiful drawing with my sentimental tears.
    “Do you like it?” He sounded so uncertain, as if there was some way I wouldn’t absolutely adore it.
    “I love it.”
    A heartbeat passed—a mere second—and that’s when I heard his sweet voice.
    “I love you.”
    I smiled down at the picture and then into his beautiful blue eyes. His love was obvious. If I ever doubted it, all