Epilogue Stone
Well, that plan went out the window.
The whole “have a few days at the Dizzy Duck Inn with my secret motive” plan.
We have people in to repaint my home office and add another wall so Harlow and I each have some space to work. It meant that we needed to be out of the house for a few days.
Perfect. We could stay at the place where it all started. Use my investment card to get us a great room too, except that’s under renovation, so we had to settle on a smaller chic room.
And now, Harlow is lying on her stomach with her head near the edge of the bed, and although I think she has drool escaping from the corner of her mouth, she still looks beautiful.
Her groan fills the room. “Stone, I can’t take this. Take me out to the pasture and kill me.”
I snort a laugh and come to kneel down next to her, my fingers instantly finding home on that spot behind her ears. “Well, that’s a bleak outlook. It’s just a virus. It will pass.”
Yep, a romantic few days got obliterated by a virus that’s taken her down for the count.
“Is the room spinning?” she mumbles.
I pretend to evaluate the room. “I don’t think so.” She growls from that answer. “Just rest.” I reach for the thermometer and take her temp; it’s one of those forehead gun ones. “Yikes, you should probably take off a layer or two to get the fever down.”
Her hand rises then flops back down. “You want to really try and get me naked right now?”
I grin. “Oh, how I wish it would be for the reason I want. But that’s not what’s happening.
” Harlow murmurs into the mattress, and she looks miserable.
“At least we ruled out that we didn’t fall into the accidental-pregnancy trope.
That’s, I guess, a bright side.” Not that we don’t want kids, just not now.
We both agreed we wanted to enjoy life with just the two of us before adding a little one to the mix. Until then, we can dote on my niece.
“My head hurts.”
“Sleep, Harlow,” I order before I adjust the pillows.
“So bossy.” She still manages to tease me, which tells me that she must be on the mend.
By the time she’s fast asleep with a little snore because she’s ill, I take a moment to recall how my master plan has failed.
I walk to the corner of the room, shove my hand down the inner pocket of my suitcase, and pull out the envelope.
A letter that screams special. It's closed with melted wax, our initials imprinted.
On the inside, the letter is written in the beauty of a fountain pen that uses actual ink.
You can imagine a quill and a lantern nearby.
Trapping the envelope between my fingers, I sigh because I didn’t get my moment.
But I guess that’s us. Our road together tends to have corners and twists and turns until we land right back where we started; together.
Blowing out another breath, I toss the letter onto the table since Harlow won’t be leaving the bed anytime soon.
Later that night, I’m struggling to sleep. I’m constantly waking to feel her forehead or check if she has chills or is sweating. There is no way I could fall into a deep sleep.
When morning comes, I wake up and order room service, ensuring its freshly squeezed orange juice. I feel like I can be an ass to the new part-time receptionist this time because I know the kid, as he was training at the development camp in the summer, hoping to turn pro.
Since Harlow is still sound asleep, I decide it’s my moment to take a shower, as one of us has to hold it together today.
My shower is good, a little extra long as I take in my moment of solitude, as if I need to meditate or some shit.
I’ve always liked leaving a shower with the bathroom full of steam.
The kind where you have to use your forearm to rub the mirror kind of steam.
At least that’s a sign that I’m starting the day right, it’s promising.
Opening the door with a towel around my waist, I circle around the corner to find Harlow sitting at the table with a white robe wrapped around her body.
The table has two trays of food plus a basket of croissants.
Staying in a boutique hotel also equates to fancy trays, with a flower in a glass vase and freshly squeezed orange juice.
Maybe that's why Harlow smiles before she brings a tissue to her nose. “Hey, they dropped off breakfast. For some reason the guy on the other side of the door had this snarly look and then brightened when he realized it was me. He even mumbled that it was his lucky day, which I would assume is because someone is a little grumpy with the front desk here.” Even pale and with a hoarse voice, she manages to scold me in a way that I’ll never get tired of, but then she rewarded me when she heard me tell Holden to give the staff bonuses.
I throw her a weak smile while I head to my suitcase for clothes. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
“I’m famished,” she says while she picks up her fork, then throws me a quick glance over her shoulder. “Stay in your towel. Nothing else. Do it for me. It gives me strength and encouragement to persevere with this virus from hell.”
I chuckle then give up on finding a shirt. “Well, if you put it that way. And someone must be feeling a little better.”
“I am. My throat is a little tender, and my nose could use a steam bath, but perhaps the end is in sight.”
Still, I lean over from behind to give her a quick kiss on her forehead before sitting across from her at the table with the towel taut around my waist. Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I survey Harlow to really evaluate if she’s feeling better. The verdict is that she’s a tad better.
“Mmm, I love this omelet.” She sucks her fork during her bite.
“I wish I was your fork right now,” I tease.
She laughs before she sets her utensil down, and something draws her attention. “Oh.” She finishes chewing. “I must have gotten a letter at reception.”
I nearly choke on my coffee, and she looks at me oddly. “Wow, that’s piping-hot coffee,” I lie.
Lines form on her head. “Take it easy. We would hate for your tongue to be burned. Could totally set you back for sensual activities.” I love how she speaks so seriously, but it’s just part of our banter.
What I don’t love is that I forgot about that envelope.
It’s too late, as Harlow sniffles her blocked nose before she begins to open the dark blue wax seal. There is no stopping this now.
Her head tips to the side with curiosity. "Strange. Your initial and mine are on the stamp. Huh." She's now intrigued and begins to read it aloud.
Harlow,
We need to add another letter to our pile of envelopes.
You and I have only ever been on a path forward…
I begin to speak as I repeat the contents of the letter I wrote, sitting across from her with an enduring facial expression that will be unreadable to her. “Which is exactly why you knew that one day you would become my wife. I should probably ask you first… Will you marry me?”
When her mouth gapes open, with the corners of her lips tight and eyes glistening with a new energy, I have to give her the grin that I’ve been holding in.
“Uhm, first, yes. Absolutely, yes.” Harlow speaks as though this is a normal day, then she holds her finger up before she sneezes into her arm. “Holy shit, you proposed while I’m sick and look like a complete mess.”
I get up and circle around the table to kneel down in front of her, sneaking my hands between the flaps of the robe to settle just above her knees. “I wasn’t exactly planning it this way, but hey, at least it’s at the place where we met. Points for us.”
Tears begin to rain down her cheeks, and she smiles uncontrollably. I tip my head up and stretch to kiss her lips, and instantly she revolts.
“I’m snotty and eww. I’m going to get you sick.”
I chuckle. “I don’t care. You just said yes. Besides, we can both be sick together in bed. All the more reason to have sex like it’s medicine.”
She swats me playfully before she touches my face with a caress, her thumb circling right where my stubble ends. “I love you.”
“I was certain about that, hence the ring.” I indicate with my head behind me. “Which is hiding in my suitcase since nothing is going as planned today.”
“Really?” she one-tones. “I hadn’t noticed, considering I’m sitting here with my fiancé in a sexy towel on his knees, while I have snot and tears, and I’m 100% positive I feel a fever returning.”
I wince, and the back of my palm lands on her forehead. “Shit, you really need to get back into bed.”
“I might be persuaded if you show me the ring,” she muses.
I drop my head in humor before I walk on my knees to pull out the box from my bag, then wobble back because casual is just how we are playing this today.
Attempting to give it to her, I pause then pull it back. “In bed without the robe?”
She rolls her eyes, feigning as if it’s a discomfort. “Whatever you say.”
Grinning, I open the box to show her the ring that is a little shinier than I’m sure is her taste, but I need to make it clear to the world that she’s taken.
Harlow gasps, and her hands cover her mouth as she takes in what’s about to slide onto her hand. “It’s gorgeous. I’m blinded.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, isn’t this what you write? See? Reality.”
She laughs as the ring finds a permanent spot on her finger.
“You’re going to be my husband.” Her voice strains due to her sore throat. Still, she studies the ring by holding up her hand.
“That’s the idea.”
Her bright grin returns before she hugs me again, and I inhale her hair, never getting tired of her embrace.
“Can I share my germs with you just for one quick kiss?”
I cock my head to the side to pretend to think about it. “Depends. Do I get a little tongue action?”
She doesn’t even answer as our lips meet and stamp together, a husky murmur in the back of her throat encouraging more. One quick flick of our tongues and then she pulls away, only to cough.
Her palm flies up. “Okay, as much as this is a wonderful moment and it had my favorite question of all time, I have to put my foot down. I can’t wipe out my fiancé, he’s one of the only people in civilization that I enjoy,” she jokes. “I need to go back to bed.”
I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. “Good idea. I’ll go grab more medicine from the store, and I expect you to be in a blissful dreaming state when I return.”
Harlow stands and then wobbles back to bed. “I have nothing to dream about now since you made it a reality.”
I help her get tucked under the covers. “I think we’ll have many more dreams to come.”
She becomes groggy, her eyes becoming heavy. “True. I need a dog, a trip to a warm climate, and a baby at some point.”
“Sounds perfect.” I kiss her forehead then leave her to rest.
Grabbing my keys, I head into the hall and walk down toward the elevator until I abruptly stop because a guest opens their door to exit their room.
Except that’s no guest.
Holden is busy fixing his collar, his shirt ruffled around his waist, and he looks a little flushed.
“Holden?” I’m confused.
He looks up and freezes. “Oh, hey there.” He swallows.
“Uh, what are you doing?” I cock my head to the side as I notice something. “Did someone bite your neck?” Right, he was doing that.
He clears his throat. “Just… a meeting.” He realizes his lie wasn’t even an attempt.
“You know I’m not buying that.” Instead, I lean against the wall and cross my arms and ankles to wait patiently for his story. My grin must unnerve him.
His eyes swim side to side, and his jaw flexes. “You know how we have that new interior designer for the hotel?”
“To get rid of that ridiculous moose head, yeah. Lexi, your former coach’s daughter, right?”
He smiles tightly. “Exactly. I might have…”
The door swings open. “I’m off, need to meet with the tile guy.” Lexi is finishing buttoning her blouse, completely oblivious to me, then she stops in her tracks. “Oh, hi.” She frowns.
“You remember Stone?” Holden awkwardly asks Lexi.
“Yeah, for sure.” She attempts to give me a polite smile. “Nice to see you again. I’m not here. Have a great day.” She is quick to walk away.
“Don’t forget that my daughter has figure skating practice after school,” he calls out.
She grumbles and doesn’t even give him any attention. “It’s Tuesday, so she doesn’t, and how many times do I have to remind you that I’m not your nanny?”
“Yeah, but that was the deal when you moved in,” he reminds her.
She groans again before disappearing into the elevator.
Holden’s lips push out, and his head tilts because he’s checking out her ass. He makes no effort to hide it. He swings his tight smile to me, and I greet him with an entertained look.
“Someone has some explaining to do.”
He blows out a long breath. “I might have… blackmailed her into living with me for a bit.”
My eyes bug out. “Wow, she’s really getting the five-star treatment on the personal-attention front.”
Holden rubs his face. “Yeah, so we might be encountering a little problem with that…”