Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lane
“Are you ready?” I asked, my hands still clasped over Oliver’s eyes as I guided him slowly into the cottage’s finished kitchen.
“Yes! You can take your hands off my eyes. I won’t look, I promise.”
“Nope, I’m keeping them there,” I said, nudging him forward another couple of steps. It was a bit difficult walking behind him with my hands on his face while trying to make sure neither of us fell over or hit something, but it had worked so far, so I was calling it a success.
“This is really awkward. You know that, right?” Oliver grumbled. “If you didn’t trust me not to look, you could’ve gotten a blindfold or something.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
Oliver muttered something under his breath, and I chuckled. “Stop whining. We’re nearly there.”
“Can I look now?”
“Not yet,” I said, encouraging him to take one more step forward so he stood in the middle of the room, just to the left of the table. I slowly let my hands fall away from his face and stepped back, keeping my eyes on him. “Now you can look.”
Oliver opened his eyes and gasped. “Oh my God!”
He turned slowly, taking in the finished kitchen. I had to admit we’d done a really nice job. The whole thing looked incredible.
The blue-grey cabinets and dark wooden counter were offset with white tiles that added an extra brightness to the space and shone against the deep blue paint that now covered the walls.
There was a long shelf that ran down one wall and around the corner instead of extra cabinets, and we’d installed hooks to give Oliver extra storage space.
The range cooker had been cleaned and polished to perfection, and now looked like a statement piece. We’d moved the fridge-freezer back in as well as adding new light fittings. The old and much-loved kitchen table had been moved back into its proper place.
Gary had mentioned it would be easy to sand and varnish if Oliver ever wanted to give it a new lease of life, but I didn’t think he would. It was one of the only original pieces of furniture he’d kept, and I knew it meant something to him.
I’d been tempted to go out and get a few finishing touches for the kitchen, but I’d held off.
Partly because I didn’t want to impose and partly because I wanted to buy those things with Oliver.
I wanted this to be our space—something we created together.
We’d tried talking about where we should live several times, but it always ended in a stalemate.
Oliver didn’t want me to give up my house, and I didn’t want him to give up his.
But looking at his face as he surveyed the kitchen, I knew he belonged in the cottage.
I might have completely renovated my house and made it the way I wanted it, but I wasn’t emotionally attached to it the way he was to Honeysuckle Cottage. And I already knew there wasn’t enough room for us there.
Oliver would need an office and space for the hundreds of books he’d collect over the years, and we needed space for all the barbecues and dinners he seemed to be planning. We needed a place that we could make our own, a place that would become home.
And considering he had the cottage, it seemed silly not to use it. I couldn’t imagine anyone else living there except us, and the idea of even trying to rent it made something twist in my gut.
“Wow… Holy shit, Lane… This is…” Oliver turned to look at me, disbelief written across his face.
“You like it, then?”
“I love it.”
“Good.”
I watched him run a finger across the table, casting his eye over the large, white farmhouse sink and the counters. “It really is perfect,” he said. “I didn’t imagine it looking like this.”
“You didn’t? But you designed it.”
“I know… It’s just better than I could ever have imagined. It looks…”
“Real?” I asked, stepping closer to him. “Like yours? Like home?”
“Yeah.” His voice was quiet. “It feels like home, like everything I ever wanted.”
“Good,” I said. “That means I’ve done my job right.” I slipped my arm around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And you’re right. It does feel like home. Which is why we should live here.”
Oliver stared at me. “Here? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I am. I don’t think you realised it when you were doing it, but you’ve designed the house you’ve always wanted, and now it’s real. I don’t want you to give that up.”
“You did the same, though. You shouldn’t have to give that up either.”
I shrugged. “I want to. My house is nice, but it’s just a house to me. I don’t have the deep connection to it or the lifetime of memories you have here. Besides, my house is too small for both of us. It’s cute right now, but there’s no room for a desk for you or all your stuff.”
“I don’t have that much.”
“Right now,” I said with a chuckle. “I know you, Ollie, and you couldn’t live in a house without hundreds of books.
There’s no room for that at mine, and when it’s a choice between there and here, it would be stupid to even consider giving this place up.
And I hate the idea of losing it. This place is perfect for us.
It will give us room to build a life together filled with dogs, and old guitars, and a million books. So yeah, we should live here.”
“Okay.” He nodded and kissed me softly. “If you’re really sure.”
“I am. I promise.”
“What will you do with your place?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I haven’t got that far yet.
Maybe sell it? Or rent it out to someone local.
I’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
We’re going to want to stay there for another couple of months while we get this place sorted.
No point moving in here until it’s finished unless we have to. ”
“That sounds good to me.” Oliver grinned. “Does this mean I can now foist off all the decorating? I can just pick one or two things and leave the rest up to you, right?”
“No, you’re definitely helping,” I said with a laugh.
I looked around the kitchen while thinking about the rest of the house.
There were a lot of empty rooms that didn’t currently have a purpose, but if we decided what we wanted to do with them soon, I’d be able to pull some strings and get things done.
Including building Oliver his very own library.
Reaching down, I slipped my fingers into his. “Come on,” I said as I started to lead him towards the door.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re going to have a look around and start making plans. I’m contracted to be here for another week or two, until the decorating is done, so if we can figure out what we want to do with each room, I can make it happen.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, it’s literally what you’re paying us for.”
“Shut up,” Oliver said, giving me a playful nudge. I grinned.
“I guess that’s better than being told to fuck off, so I’ll take it.”
Oliver snorted as I pulled him towards the stairs and up them.
The bathrooms up there were now all finished, and the rest of the rooms were virtually empty except for the one Oliver had originally moved in to.
There was still some questionable floral wallpaper in a couple of the bedrooms, but that would be easy to replace, and the rest were all in neutral creams, pinks, and greens.
“I think we should get that teal for in here,” I said as I drew him into the room that would be ours.
“And we can bring my bed since it’ll look really nice with the colour, and then either get some wardrobes for there”—I pointed at some space off to one side—“or, if you want to be really extra, we can turn this”—I pulled him into the little bedroom off the main bedroom—“into a whole dressing-room-slash-walk-in-wardrobe.”
“Isn’t that a bit much?” Oliver asked. “I mean, I love the idea, but I don’t have that many clothes.”
“We don’t have to, but since we have all this space, I thought it would be good to use it. There are six bedrooms plus this one, right? We definitely don’t need six spare bedrooms. We can just keep the two with en suites and use the others for whatever we want.”
Oliver nodded. “Okay, so one for a dressing room. What else?”
I grinned and squeezed his hand, starting to lead him down the corridor, occasionally pausing to stick my head around a door. “If you’re okay with it, I can use this one for my records and guitars,” I said, taking him into another small room.
“You don’t want them downstairs?”
“You wouldn’t mind that?”
“Of course not,” Oliver said. “I don’t want this house to be just my stuff, and I love listening to your records.” He thought for a second. “We could get another player for downstairs, then we can bring various records down but store them all up here so they don’t get damaged.”
“I like that,” I said with a nod.
“That’ll give you your own space here as well. Like a little den for you to hide in.”
“Like a secret lair?” I grinned, and Oliver rolled his eyes.
“If you want it to be.”
“I’ve always wanted a secret lair.” I kissed him, then dragged him towards the bedroom at the back of the cottage that he’d always stayed in.
“If I get a secret lair, you do too.” I threw open the door and pulled him inside while Oliver laughed.
“You get two options. Either we just make this your office and we pick another room for the library, or we do them both in here. Maybe the library would be better in here, actually, and we can put your office somewhere else. I think there’s actually a little room downstairs that would work for one. ”
“Wait. A library?”
“Yeah, a library. We can get you a cosy reading chair for the corner so you can see out the window and a good lamp for the winter. I could probably put in a window seat too,” I said, trying to work out how difficult it would be for me to build one.
“Then we can do you floor-to-ceiling bookcases, maybe with one of those ladders. I can make it go around the corners too.”
It wouldn’t actually be that hard. It would just take a bit of time to get it all up and assembled, but it wouldn’t take me more than a weekend if I cracked on.
I turned to look at Oliver, who hadn’t said anything. Had I done something wrong? I didn’t think he’d changed that much.
“Lane… I… Are you sure?” he asked finally, his eyes roaming over the long walls like he was trying to picture everything I’d described.
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“It just seems like too much.”
“That’s bollocks,” I said. “You’ve wanted a library since you were five and we watched Beauty and the Beast for the first time.
I still remember the way your face lit up when Beast showed Belle the castle library, and I remember you telling me that when you grew up, you wanted one just like that.
” I squeezed his hand. “I can’t give you a castle, but I can give you a library. Just one a little bit smaller.”
“God, I love you,” Oliver said, clasping my face in his hands and pulling me in for a kiss. “Truly, you’re amazing. Thank you.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I love you, and I want you to be happy.” I grinned. “Besides, then you can keep your millions of books in here instead of all over the bloody house.”
“You know that’s still going to happen?”
“I know, but at least I can pretend I tried.”
Oliver laughed and kissed me again, and I made a mental note to ask Gary if he knew how to build a window seat.