Epilogue Olivia
EPILOGUE: OLIVIA
“ O livia! Sinead needs more wood for the bonfire,” Molly called.
“On it,” I said.
It was the last day of the summer festival, and Sinead had outdone herself.
Granted, I’d only been to one festival previously, but I thought Sinead’s version was a huge improvement. She’d added two more days to the festival, one filled with family-friendly events, and one designed for adults but strictly without alcohol. Now that she was in a better place in her life, it didn’t bother her to be around other people drinking. But she wanted other addicts to feel equally welcome. She’d also reached out to film studies programs all over Ireland, which had led to a healthy influx of university students, some of whom seemed to be falling in love with Ballybeith the same way I had.
I headed to the shed where the wood was stored, passing where Catie was dashing around with her friends in an elaborate game of keep-away.
Catie had friends now. Plural.
I was so proud of her.
Her giggle rose above the noise of the party, light and carefree. The nervous girl I’d met in an airport clutching her uncle’s hand was long gone. There was no denying Catie was thriving, and it warmed my heart.
I opened the shed and stepped inside.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Declan asked from behind me.
“Getting wood,” I said.
I saw every dirty joke he could possibly make in response to that flicker across his face. But in the end all he said was, “Let me carry it for you. I need a break from Anil and Thomas.”
“Awww,” I teased. “Are the other kids making fun of you?”
“It’s horrible,” he said, his face serious even as his eyes danced. “Kiss me and make it better?”
“If you insist.”
He leaned against the shed wall and pulled me between his legs. It didn’t matter how many times we did this. Heat flared every time he kissed me.
“Fuck,” Declan groaned, dragging his mouth over my neck as his palm found my breast. “You’re so hot.”
I shivered under his touch. My breasts had been especially sensitive lately. According to Google, it was a side-effect of the secret I planned to tell Declan tonight.
“We had sex this morning,” I reminded him.
“ You had sex,” he grumbled. “Sinead called with a picnic table emergency right after I finished going down on you.”
I ran my hands through his hair. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. We can do that thing you like.”
He laughed. “That doesn’t narrow it down. I like everything you do.”
I leaned in and rose up on my toes to gently nip at his ear. “I was thinking of that thing we did on your birthday.”
He froze. And then his eyes darkened, and he yanked me to him, kissing me in earnest.
At least until the shed door opened.
“Ooops,” Seamus said. “Sorry about that. Sinead wanted more firewood.” He grabbed two bundles of firewood. “The festival’s really great this year, isn’t it? That one vendor made your favorite cocktail, Olivia.”
“Seamus,” Declan said, his voice dark. “Get out of here. Or I am never giving you business advice again.”
Seamus beat a hasty retreat. He’d had a good year. His family’s business was on remarkably solid footing, and he’d done it without any of Mark’s predatory practices. With Sinead’s help, he’d become a good co-parent to Catie. He’d started wooing Sinead in earnest about a month ago, and Sinead was clearly enjoying it, though she hadn’t given in just yet.
But Seamus wasn’t about to risk getting on Declan’s bad side. Not again.
The door swung shut behind him.
Declan’s mouth lowered toward mine, his eyes hot with the kind of intent that made my stomach flutter.
I placed a hand to his chest. “He’s right. We should get back out there and say hi to people.”
“Or we could stay here. Lock the door,” Declan said. He toyed with the strap of my sundress. “See how quiet you can be while I make you come.”
My knees went week, but I mustered the strength to swat his hand away from my dress strap. “Stop that. Molly’s editing friend was going to try to make it out today. I can’t be screwing you in a shed while she’s out there looking for me.”
Our book had just been published, but it was already getting great buzz. Buzz I was only too happy to help along with my successful, sponsored , blog. Once Molly’s publishing friend arrived, we were planning to discuss future book ideas.
Declan gave a long-suffering sigh. But he let me drag him from the cool, dark shed and back out into the party.
Marie appeared and handed me a raspberry margarita from the bar. “Here you go, love. It’s too strong for me, but someone said you love them.”
“Oh. Um. Thank you so much. But I just drank one.” I set it down behind me.
When I turned back, Declan was looking at me in concern. “What are you talking about? You haven’t touched a drop of alcohol all day.”
Marie’s eyes caught mine and widened in a question.
I blushed. She beamed.
Declan checked my forehead, oblivious. “Are you feeling sick?”
“I’m fine,” I protested.
But Declan still looked concerned. “You’ve been out in the heat all day. Let me get some water.” He turned toward the refreshment table, but I caught his wrist and lead him aside, a bit deeper into the garden. This wasn’t how I’d planned on telling him, but I was so excited, and the moment just seemed right.
I couldn’t wait any longer to share the news.
“Declan, I’m pregnant,” I said, smiling so hard I felt like I was going to burst.
For a second he just stared. I couldn’t read the intense emotions battling across his face.
“Declan?” I asked, feeling a touch uncertain for the first time since I’d read the results on the pregnancy test.
Then slowly, deliberately, he went down on one knee. “Olivia St. James. Will you take me as your husband?”
My heart soared. “Yes. Of course. Yes.”
He rose and kissed me. Around us, people clapped and whooped.
I broke away. “Wait. Unless you don’t want… You don’t have to marry me just because I’m pregnant.”
“Yes, he does!” Marie called, and then everyone started chiming in with their opinions.
Declan ignored them all. “Of course I want to marry you, Olivia. I’ve been ready for months, I just didn’t want to rush you. I was going to ask you tonight.”
I must have looked skeptical because he made a strangled noise of frustration and grabbed my hand. “Come on. I’m not spending the rest of my life with you thinking I proposed for any other reason than irritatingly debilitating love.”
He pulled me to the car and drove us home.
I twisted to look out the back window. “It looks like half the festival is following us. Your mom’s leading the caravan.”
Declan muttered darkly about small towns and women who would be the death of him.
When we pulled up in front of the house, Declan reached across me and grabbed a ring box from his glove compartment.
A very expensive-looking ring box.
It finally sank in. I covered my spreading smile with my hand. “Okay. I believe you. You want to marry me.”
“You’re not getting off that easily,” Declan threatened. Or maybe promised.
He helped me out of his car like I was some kind of princess, and led me around to the back of the house. The other cars parked and followed us.
When we turned the corner, I gasped.
Declan had set up a picnic in the backyard, just like our first date. But it was even more romantic than before. Twinkle lights decorated the garden. The lawn was covered with rose petals and lavender. The scent was rich and heady as I spun around, taking it all in.
Declan watched me, a crooked smile on his face.
“You ready?” he asked when I turned back to face him.
I nodded.
This time when Declan went down on one knee, I could read everything in his face. Love. Hope. Wonder. All of it shaded with a fierce determination.
“Olivia . Love. A ghrá . I’ve been calling you that since before I could admit to myself what you mean to me.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it reverently, like a knight in a fairy tale. “You’re the love of my fucking life. The mother of my child.” His eyes were bright and sure. “Marry me and share all the days of my life with me. Everything I ever was and everything I ever will be is yours.”
“Absolutely. Yes. That.” I fell to my knees and kissed him. He kissed me back, dropping the ring box in his haste to hold me tight. “I love you so much, Declan. Every side of you, every version of you. Now and always.”
“Okay, but what’s the ring look like?” someone called from behind us.
Declan laughed into my mouth, and the joy on his lips felt like a personal achievement. Declan had confessed one time, late at night, that he felt like I’d brought him back to life. I knew what he meant. After a lifetime shadowed by heartbreak, we’d brought each other out of the dark and into the starlight.
And we were going to live together under those stars for the rest of our lives.