Epilogue
JACK
“I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.”
~ Caroline Bingley
For the first time in a long time, I was nervous around Hawk.
“No peeking,” I warned him again as I pulled him through my house—now, finally, as of last night, our house—toward the locked room all the way at the back, overlooking the spot where Hawk planned to start an herb garden next spring.
The sound of his warm laugh took the edge off my nerves. “How can I peek with a shirt over my face? And really, couldn’t this have waited until after breakfast? Or at least coffee?”
“Hush. No. I’m a little bit excited,” I explained before reaching out to keep him from bumping the edge of the table in the hallway. “Almost there.”
“I get the feeling this isn’t about the room. If it was about the room, you would have shown me when we got home last night, like you promised.” Hawk’s teasing grin was clear in his voice, even though I couldn’t see his face. “And why would you blindfold me to show me an empty space?”
“Oh, it’s about the room,” I corrected, stopping him in front of the door. “It’s definitely about the room. But what you didn’t know—and really should have known—is that I am actually a master of DIY.” A little smugness crept through in my voice. “I had the door installed properly all along.”
“You what?” he demanded, voice muffled by the fabric. “You mean you could have been ravishing me in the ravishing room for weeks and weeks? Jack Wyatt, is our whole relationship a lie?”
“Not even a little bit,” I said seriously. “And, in fact, when you think about it, this kinda proves that we were in a relationship even before I knew we were in a relationship.”
Hawk turned to look at me, and though his face was hidden, I knew the exact expression he’d be wearing, the precise level of confusion in those honey-brown eyes. “Huh?”
“I’ve been taking the doorknob off every night for the sole purpose of keeping you out. I, uh… I did a thing,” I admitted.
“A thing?” His voice rose on the last syllable. “Like the thing last night, where you got my brothers to wear top hats and Macarena to the Sussex Waltz? That thing? Because really, Pride and Prejudice fanaticism aside, I’m a simple man, Jack. I don’t know how many more things I can han—oh.”
I whipped off the shirt, and he stared at the still-locked door, taking in the hand-carved sign hanging on the wall beside it.
Hawk’s Nest.
“Remy Fortnum carved it for you,” I murmured against his curly hair before pressing a kiss there and inhaling the familiar scent of his shampoo.
“For us,” he said, turning his head to look at me.
“For us,” I agreed. I reached over his shoulder and dangled a large, intricately carved brass key I’d ordered online back in May. “Go on. Open it.”
After another questioning look up at me, Hawk took the key and turned it in the lock with a soft snick. He turned the knob, and before the door even opened all the way, the sound of his gasp filled the room.
Sunlight streamed in through the open curtains on two sides of the corner room, nestled between wall-to-wall built-in bookcases made from a rich dark cherrywood.
Remy’s carpentry skills and a lot of hours of work by both of us had turned my dream library plan for Hawk into a reality that exceeded all of my expectations.
Hawk took a step inside the room and then another.
“What… what did you do?” He turned in a circle, taking in the books shoved cover to cover on the shelves.
It was an eclectic mix of his own collection, the few books I owned, and as many Pride and Prejudice variations as I could scramble together from resellers and online auctions all over the country.
“It’s not the library at Pemberley,” I admitted. “But I made sure it at least had a rolling ladder.”
Hawk spun around to meet my eyes, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth. Unshed tears filled his eyes as he gaped at me. “You built this for me?” The hushed reverence in his voice dispelled all of the remaining nerves in my gut.
“‘If I could, I would have a library of my own,’” I whispered, quoting back some of the first words I’d ever heard him say.
“‘A whole room filled with books and a sofa and cookies… Hawk is in his reading room, you’d say, and you’d say it respectfully because when a whole room is dedicated to a task, suddenly, we realize it’s important. ’”
I saw his face change when he placed the origin of my words, and then his tears fell.
“Jack,” he said, the single syllable filled with enough shock and accusation and desire and promise to fill every volume in the room…
And love. Always, always love.
I pulled him toward me, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him deeply before pulling back to answer him in a rough voice.
“The day we met, I committed those words to memory because there was something about you, even then, that was special. You were so unapologetically passionate. You reminded me that it was okay for me to be passionate about things, too.”
“Baby…”
“Last fall, I started thinking… I wanted to build this for you. So that you’d know this house you helped me turn into a home was yours, too.
” I snorted a little at my own obliviousness.
“So my friend Hawk would always have a reason to be near me. I built the addition in the spring because none of the other rooms caught the sunlight quite right and started building up a collection of books. Mr. Yetzer helped—he let me know which books you’d checked out more than once—”
“Oh, god, and I was so judgy about his lack of respect for privacy…” Hawk sniffled.
“This isn’t about proving anything to you, baby,” I said, remembering his concern from last night. “It’s about wanting you to have everything you ever dreamed of. Everything.”
“If I have you, I have everything,” he said in a voice wavering with emotion. “I love you so much. You don’t need to do things like this for me. You’re enough. I promise.”
I smiled at him, running my fingers through his unruly hair. “I want to spoil you. Let me spoil you, Bird.”
A tear escaped his eye, and I leaned forward to kiss it away. We hugged and kissed lazily before he finally pulled away with a sniffly laugh. “I want to see my new library! Show me everything. This is amazing.”
I gave him a small tour, pointing out the books and explaining what they all were, showing him the sentimental objects placed here and there on the shelves between the books and indicating a few hidden storage cabinets at the base of some of the shelves.
“You did say you wanted a ravishing room,” I teased. “You might need some space to store your… other collections.”
He swatted at me before gesturing to the overstuffed leather sofa. “That’s perfect, especially for—ohmygod!”
Hawk froze in front of the stacked stone fireplace that had been hidden on the right when he’d turned left upon entering the room.
“Is that a working fireplace?”
I nodded. “Real wood, just like the one in the living room on the other side of this wall. They share a chimney stack.”
He walked over and ran a finger over one of the several picture frames on the deep wooden mantelpiece.
“My dad and me on Glassy Ridge,” he murmured.
“And Webb with Aiden when he was just born… and here’s the one of you and me at the diner when I first started working there in high school…
oh my god, I remember this. Your mom made me squeeze a million lemons for Pye Day that year.
Look at her laughing at me when I made a face at her…
I love this.” He turned to me with the emotion clear on his face.
“I love you so much for this. I still can’t believe it. ”
I pointed to the other side of the mantel, to a stack of empty frames. “Those are for the memories we haven’t made yet.”
Hawk threw himself into my arms again and shook with breathy sobs. I hadn’t meant for this to turn into a crying fest, but I’d known it was something he’d needed. He needed to know how loved he was, how rich his life was, how much a part of my life he’d already been… and always would be.
He needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt this was his forever home, here with me.
I moved us over to the sofa and pulled him down in my lap to hold him while he cried.
When he finally caught his breath, I pushed the hair off his forehead and kissed the warm skin there. “I want you to know I’m in this with you, Bird,” I said softly. “I’m not going anywhere. This… you and me… we’re as permanent and impenetrable as Fogg Peak. Do you understand?”
He nodded, but I could tell deep down he still didn’t believe me.
“Do you still have that key?” I asked.
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out the key ring.
“Look at it more closely,” I murmured before kissing him again.
He inspected the key ring until he realized it had three smaller keys on it, as well as the key to the room itself. “What are these for?”
“There are three secure hiding places in this room. Each of those three keys unlocks a different hiding place.”
His eyes lit up. “Where are they?”
I shrugged. “See if you can find them.”
He scrambled off my lap and began inspecting the books carefully, going straight to the special leather-bound set that I’d specifically placed there as a fake lure.
When they turned out to be simple Jane Austen collectible editions, I laughed.
“Did you ever think you’d pout at a leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice? ”
He flashed a rude gesture at me and kept looking. Finally, he found one of the hidden spots deep in the corner of one of the shelves. Thankfully, that cubby only held Thin Mints.
“Ah ha! Oh… ohhhh. It came prefilled with goodies,” he said, ripping into the box and tossing two cookies in his mouth. “Mm.”
He renewed his search for the next hiding spot.
In the meantime, I walked over to the shelf next to one of the window seats and turned on the speaker system, showing him how to connect his phone to the system to play music.
One of our favorite singers filled the room with his deep voice while Hawk continued his search.
He finally found the next hiding spot when he tested out the rolling ladder. It was behind a group of my own sci-fi thriller novels. After using one of the keys to open the hidden compartment, he pulled out a wrapped package.
“What’s this?”
My face heated. “Open it up. To be honest, it’s more for me than you. You, ah… might have inspired me with that story you mentioned a few weeks ago.”
He climbed down off the ladder and unwrapped the box, revealing a Popsicle-shaped dildo.
“Oh my God,” he breathed, his voice going a full 12,500 on the Scoville scale. “Will you… that is… can we…?”
“Oh yeah.” I grinned. “Whenever you want.”
When he continued his search, he found the hidden minifridge behind the door and the phone charging station I’d disguised in an antique cigar box.
“Where’s the final hiding place?” he asked. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
I knew he’d never find it if I didn’t show him, so I pointed to the far end of the fireplace mantel. “Look under the edge of the mantelpiece for the keyhole.”
I followed him to that side of the room. When the turn of the key triggered the nearby built-in to pop away from the wall, Hawk’s eyes widened comically. “There’s a hidden room?”
I gestured for him to precede me into the small space. It was about the size of a walk-in closet, sandwiched between the living room and the library and hidden between the main level powder room on one side and the large living room fireplace on the other.
It had an overstuffed chair with one of his favorite blankets on it, a reading lamp, and an ottoman.
The warm red of exposed brick on one side was set off by the fresh coat of navy blue paint on the other.
Fairy lights twinkled from the low ceiling.
I nudged him further into the space before pulling the shelf-door closed behind us.
“It’s a panic room,” he said with a grin.
“It’s a reading nook,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You read too many books if you think you need a panic room in Little Pippin Hollow.”
His eyes met mine, shooting a strange intense energy between us. “It’s a sex dungeon,” he said, nostrils flaring.
“Maybe. But first… it’s something else.”
I pulled out the small gold ring from my pocket and lowered myself to one knee. I hadn’t practiced the speech, and for a single panicked moment, I wondered if maybe I should have come up with something polished.
But then I remembered Hawk didn’t want polished. He wanted my heart… and he had it.
“Hawk Sunday, my best friend, my first and only love… will you marry me? Will you be my partner in work, in love, and in… whatever random environmental protests come our way? Will you be my family and build a life with me?”
Hawk fell onto the ottoman and stared at me in disbelief. “You… do you really mean it? You’re not… this is real?”
“Of course it’s real,” I said. “But only if it’s what you want. I was ready to elope with you the day I realized I’d been in love with you for years. But if it’s too soon for you, we can wait. You can wear this as a promise ring or—”
I didn’t get to finish the sentence. Hawk lunged for me, knocking me back onto the soft carpet and kissing my face off.
We kissed for a long time, murmuring our love for each other, our promises and plans for the future, and our joy at finally knowing the hardest part, the time of insecurity about how the other felt, was behind us.
Whatever troubles came our way from now on, we’d handle them together.
“I love you so much, Jack,” he said when I finally slid the ring onto his hand.
“As I love you.”
“Thank you for our reading room.”
I grinned. “Oh, it’s ours now, is it?”
“Of course. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a Sunday brother in possession of a good hiding place must be in want of someone special to hide in it with him… and I’ve found mine.”