Epilogue
EPILOGUE
Twelve Months Later
He was waiting for her when she came out to lock up. Her store had been open a month—dancewear supplies, costumes, theatre make-up, pointe shoes. At this stage she didn’t stock nipple tassels but she knew Gabe held hope eternal.
Tonight they’d have their first night back at the Treehouse. It had taken months for the remedial work to be completed. They’d rented a small apartment nearby and Roxie had spent her days supervising both the repair job and the outfit of her store, her evenings choreographing new routines with Chelsea for the Blades. After the big digger work had finished at the Treehouse, she’d replanted the garden—not completely vegetables this time, but the occasional amazing flower as well. Now Gabe parked in the refurbished garage and with a flourish opened the front door for her. She literally danced in, so happy to be home.
‘Oh, look, you have mail already.’ He took the envelope pinned to the tree-trunk and handed it to her.
‘Specially delivered.’ She took it with a smile and a kiss that threatened to go wild—loving him so completely.
‘Not yet.’ He broke free and stepped back from her, his hands up in the surrender position. ‘Open it first.’ She did and drew out the gift card, reading the beautiful script. ‘Tickets to the Paris Opera Ballet?’
‘ Giselle, of course.’
She was going to Giselle, in Paris, with Gabe? ‘You mean you’re coming with me?’ She almost squealed, this day just couldn’t get better.
‘Nothing I like more in the world than coming with you.’ He waggled his brows. ‘And seeing we’ll be in France, I’ve booked a trip to Champagne. To the House of Bollinger.’
‘No,’ she screeched. ‘As in like the factory? Where they grow the grapes and bottle the bubbles?’ That would be too much fun.
‘Well, it is the only thing you drink,’ he teased. ‘But maybe we could try some others too—you know, Moet, Veuve, Taittinger? We could bubble around the region, don’t you think?’
‘Absolutely!’ She wrapped her arms around him and squealed. ‘That would be fantastic.’
He chuckled as he hugged her. ‘I love you and I love this place.’
Oh, ditto, ditto, ditto.
She reluctantly eased out of his kiss. ‘But there’s still something wrong with the house you know,’ she whispered, shyly hiding her face in his neck.
‘What’s that?’ He waited, quiet, to catch her answer. ‘There are only two bedrooms.’ She leaned back so she could see into his eyes and took hold of some courage. ‘I don’t want to have an only child.’
His eyes widened and his arms tightened. ‘You’re pregnant?’ He lifted her and twirled and positively shouted. ‘Oh, darling, that’s brilliant!’
‘No!’ She laughed, her heart soaring at his ecstatic response. ‘I’m not pregnant I just thought I might like to be. One day. More than once.’
He stopped spinning her, but kept his hold super tight as he lowered her to the ground. His eyes glowed, his growl of amusement warm, then he smiled the most heartfelt smile she’d ever seen. ‘Roxie, you can have as many children as you want, whenever you want.’
Relief tumbled through her. ‘Are you sure? You never wanted?—’
‘I was wrong about so many things I thought I didn’t want. And I couldn’t be happier about that.’ He suddenly stepped back and tugged her hand. ‘Though I have to admit. I’m just a little glad you’re not pregnant right now, because I have something for you.’ He led her to the kitchen.
She stopped in the doorway.
‘What is that? ’ Her shoulders began to shake.
‘A Nebuchadnezzar of Bollinger,’ he answered drolly.
‘A what? ’ she spluttered with laughter.
‘A Nebuchadnezzar. Fifteen liters. Just imagine how many million bubbles.’
‘A gazillion bubbles. Did you hire a crane to get it in here?’
‘Yeah, because there are three of them—the others are in the bath. And this time I actually did invite the team to share it with us, as well as all the Blades. But they’re waiting for my signal.’
‘Really?’ She glanced out of the kitchen window and saw the juvenile plants were festooned with fairy lights. ‘Are you going to give them the signal?’
‘In a minute,’ he said deeply. ‘Something to do first.’ She turned to look at him. He wound his arms around her waist and tugged.
‘You know that trip to France?’ he said. ‘There are a couple of conditions.’
This time Roxie’s heart soared so high so quick it broke the sound barrier.
‘What conditions?’ Oh, she was so breathy.
He held her so close, his eyes so full of love they made hers water.
‘On my list, Roxie,’ he whispered, bringing his face to hers. ‘Before we have the babies, we have the wedding. And in between the two, we have the honeymoon. In France.’
There was only one thing she could say to that. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay?’
‘Oh, yeah. That’s really okay.’ She laughed as much as she cried and then could manage neither as he kissed her—out of control, adoring, explicit.
‘Did you really invite the team?’ She tore her lips from his in part despair.
‘For the engagement party. That’s the thing on the very top of my list. That’s tonight.’ He breathed hard. ‘But we could steal a few minutes before I sound the horn. Right?’
‘Well, you always did like room for spontaneity,’ she teased, inside totally desperate herself ‘Why not a few minutes now, then hours together after when they’re gone—okay?’
‘For ever after.’ He smiled wickedly as he swept her in his arms and charged up the stairs to their room.
And Roxie knew the happiness bubbling inside her now was never, ever going to burst.