Chapter 19
Hope couldn’t remember a time when she’d been so happy.
There was always the lingering worry over not having met Gus’s family yet, and fretting about what they were going to be like when she did.
But for now it was as if they were living in a bubble, just the two of them, and it was exactly the way she liked it.
When they weren’t busy with work, they were exploring the outdoors, and their long walks at the weekend had become what she looked forward to most. Gus never tried to hurry her, happily waiting for her as she looked at the trees and marvelled at the lakes, and she felt as if she were living part of the childhood she’d been denied.
One day she’d felt like that little outdoors-loving girl all over again, as she’d twirled beneath the bright blue sky with her arms extended, before sunbathing as she leaned against a tree and ate the picnic they’d brought with them.
Gus was busy working for his father still, and although it was often on the tip of her tongue to ask if he’d told them about her yet, or to see if she could visit him at work and at least meet his father, she’d stayed quiet.
Because if she said anything, she had a feeling it could taint what they had; and what they had was wonderful.
At night they made the short trip to their little distillery, where Hope had become Gus’s right-hand woman.
She knew just how many hours they needed for each production, and it was often Hope who would come during the day to check on their absinthe, so that Gus didn’t have to make excuses.
The last time he’d gone to Paris for work, she’d stayed home and kept things going, happy to be busy and to feel as if she was at last succeeding at what she’d turned her hand to.
Sometimes, like today, she came a few hours ahead of Gus, making the labels and sticking them to the bottles, or like now, packing them into crates in preparation for transport.
She smiled as she thought about the moment weeks earlier when she’d finally perfected her fairy illustration—she wasn’t sure who’d been more excited, her or Gus.
She heard a noise outside and paused, but Gus whistled to alert her that it was him. It was easy to become complacent, when the distillery had come to feel like a second home to her, forgetting that what they were doing was illegal.
Hope placed the last bottle onto the bed of straw in the crate and straightened, stretching her back as Gus appeared through the sliding wooden door.
‘I thought I’d find you here.’
He closed the door behind him, putting down his things, rolling up his sleeves and coming to greet her. She smiled against his mouth as he planted a kiss on her lips, enveloping her in a hug. Hope was always pleased to see him.
‘You didn’t need to do all this,’ he said, looking around and seeing the crates she’d already packed.
‘You know me, I like to keep busy,’ she said. ‘I only wish I could open those doors up and let the sunshine stream in during the day.’
Gus kissed her again before stepping away and looking around.
‘I’ve also bought some more herbs, just a small amount, and from different places, as you suggested,’ she said.
‘Here I was, thinking you’d be painting all day, every day,’ he teased. ‘You know I don’t expect any of this. I don’t expect you to work your fingers to the bone.’
Hope only laughed. She’d caught sight of herself in the mirror before she’d left their apartment, and noticed how bright her eyes were, and that was from Gus, but also from having a purpose again. From loving what she was doing.
‘I thought you’d be painting, although I’m not going to complain. You’ve done so much.’
‘I always thought that painting was what brought me the most joy, but now that I look back, it was the only thing I had,’ she told him. ‘It was the one thing in the world that was mine and mine alone, and I do still love holding a paintbrush or drawing.’
He turned to her with a wry grin. ‘But?’
She felt the sparkle in her eyes as she grinned straight back at him. ‘But I love this more.’
He laughed and shook his head, but she didn’t miss the proud smile he gave her. He’d somehow known she’d love it, and he’d been right.
‘Besides, you did say you wanted to be business partners, didn’t you?’ she asked, as he reached for the last few bottles that needed to be packaged into the next crate and passed them to her.
Gus stopped and met her gaze. ‘I want you by my side always,’ he said. ‘I’m so proud of you, Hope.’
Her heart felt like it had doubled in size in response to his praise, and she smiled to herself as she covered the last of the bottles in straw then stood with her hands on her hips.
‘Dinner?’ she asked, gesturing to the wicker basket that she’d packed earlier, full of cheese and fresh bread, pickles and even a bottle of wine.
Gus stepped towards her then and caught her around the waist, kissing her again, more fiercely this time. ‘I love you,’ he whispered, taking hold of her hands and pressing a kiss to them, too.
Hope slipped from his grasp, taking the basket and beckoning for him to follow.
There was a window at the back of the building and she’d propped it open and already placed two overturned crates there so they could sit in the breeze.
They were facing the countryside here, so there were no prying eyes to see them.
‘Hope, I’ve been thinking,’ Gus said.
She set the basket down, sitting on one of the crates and looking up at him.
‘I don’t like hiding you away, as if I’m not proud of you or that you’re somehow not good enough to be part of my world,’ he said. ‘I’ve been selfish.’
She blinked back at him, not sure whether she was relieved or terrified at what he might be about to say next.
‘I’d like you to meet my family. It’s time.’
He could have dropped a pin and she’d have heard it, the barn was suddenly so quiet.
Gus leaned forward, reaching for her hands. ‘What do you say? Could we go there for dinner together, so you can meet them? Should I arrange a night?’
Hope found herself nodding, because it was what she’d wanted all this time, even if the thought did make her nervous.
‘They’ll love you just like I do, I know it.’ He took out the bottle of wine and gave her the sweetest smile, it almost broke her heart. ‘How could they not?’
Hope prayed he was right, but something told her that making his parents like her wasn’t going to be easy.