Chapter Thirty
Lane
I was measuring up Oliver’s library for bookcases on Tuesday morning when my phone rang.
The sound made me jump because I barely ever had it on loud, and I wobbled on top of the step latter, cursing under my breath.
I stuck the pencil I’d been using to mark up the walls behind my ear as I reached into my pocket.
Oliver’s face flashed on the screen, and I braced myself for the worst. Brian had wanted to have a meeting this morning about the home-working proposal, and his wording had apparently given nothing away.
I knew Oliver was quietly confident because Brian was in favour of the idea, but it all depended on what various bigwigs thought.
I hated the idea that Oliver’s entire future was being decided by some faceless manager who didn’t even know him, and it made nervous butterflies twist through my intestines.
“Hey,” I said as I answered the call, trying to tamp down the butterflies as much as possible.
“They said yes!” Oliver’s voice was so loud I nearly fell backwards off my stepladder in shock. I heard the thrum of excitement in his voice. It was almost tangible enough for me to reach out and touch.
“They did?”
“Yes!”
“Shit, that’s awesome.” I could hardly believe it. I climbed down the ladder so I could pace up and down the room, highly tempted to start doing some form of celebratory dance. “What did Brian say?”
“He didn’t really go into a lot of detail, so I don’t know if it was easy to convince them or not, but apparently he laid everything out, addressed some of the obvious things like how we have things like Teams for meetings and how being in the office doesn’t accomplish much—although he probably didn’t say it like that. ”
I chuckled. I hadn’t met Brian, but from what Oliver had told me, I wouldn’t have put it past him to phrase it just like that.
“And he said he talked about things like cost of living, staff morale and mental health, and basically, it was either I get to work from home or I leave, and he didn’t want to lose a talented member of staff,” Oliver continued, a note of embarrassed pride in his voice.
“They shouldn’t. You’re fucking awesome at your job.”
“Thanks. Anyway, they thought it over and said yes. I have to go into London once a month for, like, a whole team meeting and to prove my existence, and I think that was a concession from once a week, which Brian said he pointed out was ridiculous because of the distance. He doesn’t even think the once-a-month thing will last very long.
It’s just them holding on to what they can.
Apparently, they’re also going to review it in six months, but Brian said as long as I keep doing my job, there’s no reason for them to change their minds.
” Oliver let out a long breath, then a laugh like the reality had hit him all over again. “Oh my God, I get to keep my job!”
“Yes, you do, baby,” I said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe it. I was sure they’d say no.”
“You had Brian in your corner, though, and he wouldn’t have fought for you if he didn’t think you were worth it.”
“I know. It’s just a bit overwhelming really. I knew he thought I was good at my job, but to hear this…” He exhaled again. “I don’t think I’m going to get much else done today.”
I chuckled. “Just answer some emails, and you’ll be fine. And if you get bored, you can start thinking about what you’d like your office to look like.”
“Office?”
“Yes, Oliver. Office. We’re going to put one in the cottage for you so you’ve got a dedicated workspace,” I said. “Maybe the downstairs room at the back where your nan used to do her paperwork.”
It was a small room that overlooked the cottage’s little back garden and had a nice view over the bay from the window.
There’d be plenty of room to get a good-sized desk in there, some bookcases, and anything extra Oliver might want, like a whiteboard.
It also had a solid door, which meant he could close it at the end of the day and leave work behind.
From what he’d said, editing was something he lived twenty-four seven because he couldn’t exactly get his brain to stop thinking about a book or working through solutions to plot problems, but at least this way he’d have a dedicated space, and even if he couldn’t mentally leave the work behind, he could physically.
It would create the separation he’d need when he was basically living in his office.
“I’d like that,” Oliver said. “Brian said they’ll buy me a monitor, keyboard, and things like that. I don’t think I can get them to furnish my whole office, but I think they’d get me essentials as long as I didn’t break the bank.”
“Makes sense. They’d probably get you cheap stuff, though, and if you’re sitting down all day, you’re going to want a decent chair.
” I was already wondering where I could get him a nice desk.
There was a local carpenter we sometimes worked with who I’d been considering asking for a quote to build the bookcases from scratch rather than just raiding IKEA, and I was sure he’d make me one if I asked.
At least that way it would last a while, and we could get it made to fit the room.
“Definitely a decent chair,” Oliver said with a chuckle. “Otherwise I’ll get a numb butt. A nice desk would be good too, but I’ll have to look at my budget.”
“Don’t worry about the desk, I’ll sort that.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You don’t have to ask. I’m doing it,” I said.
I looked around to see if anyone had appeared upstairs before I lowered my voice.
Nobody needed to hear our private conversations.
“Remember, Oliver, I like spoiling you, and I like making you happy. That doesn’t just apply to our bedroom.
It applies to our whole life. So please, let me do this for you. ”
“You’re phrasing that as if you’re giving me a choice,” Oliver said wryly. “But you’re not, are you?”
“Not really. Although if you really don’t want me to, I won’t. I’d never force something on you just because I think you should have it or do it. Like I said, I want to make you happy, and forcing something is the opposite of that.”
“Okay, you can sort me out an office.”
“Good, just let me know what you need and what you want, and I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Any preference on colour? Style?”
“Not sure. Definitely nothing too corporate, though. I don’t want it to feel like I’m trapped in some horrible office building like I was in London.”
“Damn, there go my plans for grey walls and that weird, tiled grey carpet,” I said with a chuckle. Oliver laughed.
“I should probably let you get back to work,” he said reluctantly. “And I probably need to go and look at my inbox or something. I need to try and work out how to get my stuff from London too. Any chance you could be my man with a van for the day and take me to pick everything up?”
“Sure, I can do that. We can go one weekend.” I wasn’t super keen on the idea of driving in London because I’d never done it before, but I’d work it out. It would be easier than hiring someone to do it.
“Cool. That’s one thing sorted at least. Now I just need to look at giving my notice to the landlord. I might need to find someone to fill my spot as well. I’ll have to look at the contract. Fingers crossed I can get my chunk of the deposit back as well.”
“You focus on that,” I said. “I’ll focus on the house. Between us we’ll get it done.”
“Okay.”
“Breathe, Oliver,” I added. “It’s going to be fine. You’ve got your job and the house. The rest is just details.”
“You missed the most important thing,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
Later that afternoon, when I’d finished up at the cottage and dug through my list of contacts for the carpenter, I met Oliver and Sparrow by the beach for a walk.
It was still very warm, but there was a fresh breeze blowing off the sea, and I bought the two of us ice cream before we walked down to the sand.
It was nearly August now, and tourist season was upon us, so the beach was busier than usual.
The school holidays had not long started, which meant I’d be trying to avoid most of town until the start of September unless it was early morning or late evening.
I didn’t fancy getting caught up in the crowds.
Sparrow trotted down to the sea as Oliver and I walked along the beach in front of the row of colourful beach huts, their brightly painted and polished boards gleaming in the early evening sunlight.
We didn’t say much at first, both of us too concerned with eating the enormous Mr. Whippy ice creams I’d acquired that had come complete with two flakes and sauce that kept threatening to drip down my fingers.
“Remember when we did this as kids?” Oliver asked. “We used to come down here after school all the time.”
“We did. The ice creams were cheaper then.”
Oliver chuckled. “That makes you sound so old. Back in my day, the ice cream was a pound and bigger than my head…”
“It was, though,” I said. “Well, not that cheap but still. These are three-fifty now.”
“You need to go to London one day. That’ll give you a shock.”
“No thanks. I’m not paying a tenner for a pint,” I said. “Can you imagine taking our lot to a London pub? They’d bleed us dry in ten minutes.”
“Especially if it was one of those places that did cocktails,” Oliver said. “They’re usually really expensive and very drinkable.”
“Yeah, definitely not. I don’t even know if there’s a place in town that makes cocktails. There’s gotta be at least one. Laurie apparently makes a mean margarita if you ever want them. According to Alex, they’re ninety-percent pure tequila.”
“We’ll have to get him to make some next time we have everyone round.”
We continued walking along the beach, and when Sparrow pottered up to check in, I let her lick a little bit of plain ice cream off my finger.
She wiggled happily, then glued herself to my ankle in the hope of getting more.
When her birthday came up in August, I’d have to get her a little tub of ice cream as a present, although it wouldn’t last longer than two minutes.
“What do you want to do this evening?” Oliver asked as we reached the end of the curved strip of sand and turned around to walk back.
I grinned and slipped my hand into his. “You.”
He snorted. “I should have expected that.”
“Probably.” I tugged him towards me for a kiss. “Apart from that, I don’t have any plans. I just want to chill with you. I think we deserve an evening of relaxation after today. Or maybe it should be celebration?”
Oliver stopped and smiled at me. “I think ice cream and sex is a pretty good way to celebrate. Especially because I haven’t really shown you my dildo yet.”
Fuck. How had I forgotten about the dildo? Probably because he’d told me about it the first time we’d hooked up, but I’d been too distracted by the idea of being inside him again.
“Oliver Martin Campbell, why the fuck did you let me forget you brought a dildo with you? And you haven’t let me watch you fuck yourself with it?”
“In my defence, I haven’t really needed it since we moved in together.”
“I know that’s a compliment but still.” I drew him towards me for a deep kiss, remembering to at least keep it fairly tame since we were still in public.
“We’re going to go home, and I want you upstairs, on my bed, and I’m going to watch you fuck yourself senseless with your toy.
Maybe I’ll even fuck your mouth at the same time. ”
Oliver groaned. “Tease.”
“I’m not teasing,” I said. “It’s happening.”
“I know, but we have to get home first, so you’re definitely teasing.”
I grabbed his hand. “We better walk quickly, then.”
We almost ran back along the beach, laughing and pulling each other along, Sparrow barking and bouncing around our feet and almost sending me flying in an attempt not to trip over her.
As we reached the other end, I pulled Oliver into another deep kiss, already missing the taste of him.
I already knew I never wanted to spend another day without him.
Even when I’d tried to deny it, deep down I’d always known it was going to be Oliver. He was the other half of my heart and soul, the one person who made me feel whole.
And I promised myself I was never going to let him slip away from me again.
Oliver smiled against my lips, whispering a promise of so much more to come. I squeezed him in my arms, knowing that everything I’d ever wanted had finally come true.