Chapter 114
“Stay here.” Logan puts his hand on my arm.
“Are you kidding me? Of course I’m not gonna stay back…”
I push past him to look inside the liquor room. Mr. Bingley is safe in his bed, relaxed as can be, and—
Cell Number One is wide open.
I clutch Logan’s hand.
“What the fuck…” He rubs his eyes and then looks again.
I walk closer to the jail cell.
“Oh, my.”
A blooming cactus flower is growing right in the center of the cement floor.
Logan drops his drink in the doorway, and it splatters everywhere.
I turn my head. And that’s when I see her. Through the large round window behind my desk—
A white form is heading toward the sky.
She stops briefly, and I swear she waves at us. I wave back and she’s gone from view.
Logan and I don’t speak for over a minute.
“Holy shit,” he finally says. “That was weird, right? Did we just see Jane Austen’s ghost? And why did it all kind of make sense?”
“People are going to go crazy when they come back inside and see this.”
“So let’s get out of here.”
I grab his shirt in my fists and kiss him. “You’re such a romantic underneath it all.”
“With you I am. I’m not sure about the rest of it.” He looks toward the hallway. “Did you hear that?”
Stomping feet echo louder and louder.
“They’re coming back inside,” he says.
“But everyone’s supposed to go to the square for the fireworks.”
“They must have decided to stop back for drinks first.” He takes my arm. “Let’s sneak out. We’ll hide out in my cottage for the night until the town calms down.”
I look around, wishing for the millionth time in my life that this room had a side door. My eyes land on the round window over my desk.
Logan helps me unlock the pane from its rusty hinges, and he pushes me out the opening to the burnt-out brushy lawn and climbs out right behind me. I hear a weird jingling in my purse as I hit the ground, but before I can figure out what it is, Logan grabs my hand.
“Let’s cut through the ranch. It’s a lot faster.”
As soon as we step inside Logan’s cottage, I shut and lock the door and he draws the blinds. He turns on the stove light, just enough for us to see by.
And the weight of what just happened hits me.
“So today is Independence Day,” I say slowly as I remember the words from Vivian’s diary. “And we opened our hearts to each other, and we exchanged vows in marriage.”
Logan leans against the counter and smiles. “Keep going. I know you have this whole thing memorized.”
“You have cattle roots, and shoot—Mama was right after all! I do have a drop of British blood from my mother!”
A grin takes over his face as he enjoys watching me crack my mystery, the one I’ve been so intertwined with since I was born.
I keep thinking aloud. “The same blood, the same blood, what would that be?”
“Could be our tattoos?” he suggests. “Like symbolic blood.”
“That’s it! And we were at the lake on the West Street side, and I thought that West clue was surely about Gigi, but I guess it wasn’t.
Then, Mama and I found another clue—how the soul mates have to embody the true natures of Darcy and Elizabeth.
I assumed that was you and Gigi because of how the town had christened you guys. ”
“It was me,” he says slowly. “Me and you.”
I stare at him as I remember what Skip had said when Logan and I were on the altar.
“Skip did say to me that you and I symbolize true love in the way we care for each other unselfishly. Oh, I just can’t believe…
I mean, do you think there really was a spell and our love for each other broke the curse and set Jane Austen’s ghost free? ”
Logan shakes his head. “You know, everything inside of me wants to say no and tell you you’re crazy because I’ve always hated that damn town legend, but I can’t. I can’t say what just happened didn’t happen. Because it did. Which is really crazy.”
“So Jane Austen must have waited for the right man even in the afterlife and she’s flying to him now. When they were ripped apart, she never gave up on love. And now they’re together again, forever.” I exhale. “I’m glad we didn’t miss out on the here and now.”
“Me too.”
I hop up onto the counter, letting my legs dangle over the side.
“You hungry?” Logan asks me. “I can cook us something.”
“Actually, you know what I think we need to do?” I say flirtatiously.
He steps closer to me. “What’s that?”
“I think we need to consummate our marriage. Again.” I hook my legs around his waist and pull him toward the counter, then wrap my thighs around him to keep him close. “Because we divorced after that consummation. So let’s reconsummate. Like right now.”
“If we learned nothing in Vegas, marriage is made official once you have sex.” Logan unzips my dress and trails his lips from my mouth to my jaw.
“Yes,” I say as I pull off his tie. “Very true. Very important step.”
He nibbles my neck. “And now I get to finally take this dress off you like I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw you in it.”
“Dancing with Mama in the bridal salon?” I exhale as he pulls the fabric down my body.
“Yes. But let’s not mention your mother again right now.”
I wrap my arms around his shoulders while he touches my bare skin. Then, he kisses my breast. And sucks on my nipple until I moan.
Logan pulls his head up and looks into my eyes. “You’re my wife. And I’m your husband. Does that feel real to you yet?”
I unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders so I can run my nails over his chest until he groans.
“Only in the best way. Real used to be a bad word in my world.”
“Mine too.”
“But with you…”
I unhook his belt, and he helps me push his pants down. Then, his boxers. Then, my hands go around him, and all I hear are his sighs in my hair.
“With me what?”
He moves his head, and his mouth closes over my nipple again as his hands slide my panties off my hips.
I hold my breath as he touches me right where I need him between my thighs. And then I stammer out, “With you it feels right. Not a fantasy but actually better.”
He slides his finger inside me, and I grip his shoulders tightly.
“We’ll still have fights.” He kisses my lips. “We’ll still drive each other crazy.” He kisses my neck. “But we’ll never stop working at it.” A longer kiss on my mouth. “And we’ll never walk away again.”
I shift back so I can look at him before I glance over at my purse sitting about five feet away on the table.
Logan turns his head in the direction I’m looking. “I’ll go get a condom,” he offers.
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
“I thought you weren’t on the pill anymore.”
“I’m not.”
He straightens up purposefully, and his eyes grow intensely focused.
He cocks his head slightly. “You’re saying…”
“Yes,” I say, and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. But only if we’re on the same page.”
He brings his cheek next to mine and kisses my face softly. “We’re always on the same page. I can’t wait to start a family with you.”
A long while later, we finally leave the kitchen and stumble into Logan’s bed, exhausted.
“Still haven’t made love in a bed,” he says as we climb beneath the sheets.
“That’s for tomorrow,” I say. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
We stay up for hours talking about the past, all of it, and all the times we were sure, and all the times we weren’t. And all of it’s finally okay.