Epilogue
LYNLEY
One year later
“You have a pool? Inside?” Mase steps as close as he can get, his socked feet peeking over the edge as he stares down at the calm water with a mesmerized expression. His head whips around so quickly that I barely stop myself from darting forward, sure he’s about to fall in. “Can we swim in it?”
Grafton’s father, Roger, frowns. “Now, I don’t know about any swimming, but you can absolutely have a picnic on the bottom.”
Ginny scoffs from her safe position between Grafton and me. “You don’t picnic in pools. The food would be all soggy!” Her face scrunches up in distaste as Roger turns to peer at her.
“Huh. You might be right. Okay, no picnics. Maybe you could do some ice skating in there.”
Mase seems to have caught on to the silliness, his lip curling. He stays quiet, eyes flicking over to Ginny’s suspicious expression, waiting to see what she’ll do.
“No,” she exclaims, feeling brave enough to step forward and prop her hands on her hips. “You swim in a pool.”
Roger blinks, looking confused. “You swim?” he repeats.
“Why on earth would you do that?” Louise steps into the room, an apron covered in gingerbread men tied around her waist. “Louise, they want to swim.” His tone is the perfect amount of flabbergasted, like he can’t think of anything more ridiculous.
She drops her mouth comically wide. “In the pool? Graft, where on earth did you find these children? Mars? Imagine that… Swimming in a pool.”
Ginny’s brow knits together, looking a little concerned for Roger and Louise’s mental capacities. “Because it’s fun! Why else would you have a pool inside?”
Roger’s eyes are twinkling, but before he can carry the game on, Mase reaches his limit, cutting in, “Mom, did you pack my trunks? Can we swim right now?” Both kids turn to stare at me with wide eyes.
“Yes, I packed them. Maybe we should check how far away dinner is with Louise—”
“It’s nothing that won’t keep,” she says quickly.
“They can swim for as long as they like. It’ll be the perfect thing for little bodies that have been stuck on a plane all day.
” She smiles, and the kids barely wait for my nod before dashing back out the door, heading for the rooms where they were told to store their bags.
Louise looks between her husband and son.
“You both are on lifeguard duty. Lynley and I are off to have a glass of wine in the kitchen.”
Roger blinks. “I feel like we drew the short straw.”
Grafton chuckles. “No way. We can take bets on who we think will make the biggest cannonball.”
His father eyes him, sensing something amiss but clearly unable to pinpoint what it is. “Alright, I’ll take the bet. I’m putting my money on Mase. The kid looks like he knows what he’s doing. How about it?”
I hide a smile as Grafton sends Roger a sharp grin, slapping their palms together. “Hope your wallet is flush.”
It’s a straight hustle, because Ginny is definitely the clear winner of any splashing competitions, although we still haven’t figured out how she manages to do it.
Louise rolls her eyes. “Come on, Lynley. Let’s leave them to their gambling. I’ve just opened a bottle of chilled white, and I bet you’re ready to sit back and relax.”
I don’t protest, following her back to the kitchen. “I’ve been on a plane most of the day,” I protest mildly, but I still sink onto the barstool pushed up to the kitchen island, gratefully thanking her when she slides a wine glass over to me.
“Traveling is exhausting,” she says, leaning against her side of the counter and sipping her drink. She watches me over the rim, her eyes creased at the corners. “Especially with children.”
“Grafton made everything a thousand times easier. First class all the way. Although I don’t think he’d fit his legs into an economy seat.” I laugh.
Louise grins crookedly. “You’re not wrong, but he’s also not used to traveling any other way. We didn’t go away much when he was small, and Roger was still working his way through the ranks… By the time Graft was old enough to remember, he was in first class, and there was no getting him out.”
We fall quiet, but it’s an easy companionable silence as Louise turns around to check on the pot roast she’s been cooking. I watch as she pulls the meat out, covering it with foil so the kids can swim, and press my fingers to my sternum, rubbing away the tightness there.
It’s such a small thing, delaying dinner so the kids can swim, and it shouldn’t be hitting me as hard as it is. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s Christmas, but my emotions are running high.
For a long time, if I wanted family in our lives, I had to put up with the barbed expectations from Christopher’s family, or the toxicity from my own.
It was never easy, and it seemed like Mase and Ginny were always aware of the undertones, never quite acting like themselves until we were back under our own roof.
“It feels like this past year has flown by, and we’ve barely seen you all,” Louise is telling me. “Life just always seemed to get in the way, for both you and us. But I’m so glad you’re here now.” She slides the covered roasting pan back into the oven, turning to shoot me a smile.
“I am too,” I admit. Louise isn’t wrong—the last year has been crazy.
I finished my degree and immediately got to work on The Sterling Thread.
I wound up with more interest from local artists and designers than I knew what to do with, so it has been completely overwhelming, and I ended up hiring Halsey, my very first artist, to work part-time with me.
Soon, I might need to hire another person
Coming to Florida for Christmas is something I’ve been looking forward to for months, knowing Mase and Ginny love spending time with Grafton’s parents. It also means a break for both Grafton and me so we can just focus on being us.
“I love coming here,” I tell Louise. “It feels like…”
Her eyes fill with understanding. “Feels like?”
“It feels like we belong,” I say quietly, my cheeks heating, hoping she’ll understand. “It feels like we’re family, and I love that for Mase and Ginny. They need all the family they can get.”
Christopher left town like he said he would, and his parents followed him not long after.
The kids and I haven’t heard from any of them, and I have no idea where they are.
At first, I was sad that Mase and Ginny had lost their father, but Grafton has made sure they never feel that loss—not even for a second. As for my family…
I don’t care where my mother and sister have landed. I am just glad they are permanently out of my life.
Louise’s eyes fill with tears, and she quickly rounds the island and yanks me into her arms. “I cannot tell you what it means for me to hear that,” she whispers in my ear, the subtle scent of cinnamon filling my nose.
“I’ve spent years worrying that Grafton wasn’t going to find someone.
He was content, but humans aren’t made to be alone.
I had these nightmares of Roger and me being gone, and Graft just being by himself.
Thatcher being around wasn’t any kind of consolation.
” She lowers her voice, confessing, “As much as I love my younger son, he’s a bit of a moron. ”
I’ve met Thatcher a few times, and I’m not about to disagree with her.
“I know that Grafton said he was content, but the idea of him not having anyone who loved him…” Louise pulls back with a sniff, lifting her apron and running a corner under her eyes. “And then came you, Lynley, and those two beautiful children.”
My own eyes are filling as I watch her, sinking my teeth into my lip to stop the trembling.
“Grafton is an amazing man,” I whisper. “He’s changed my life completely, and I barely remember what it was like before he walked into it.
He loves my children like they are his own, and they love him right back.
” I blow out a shaky breath. “And now he’s given us you.
Sometimes, it feels like I don’t give him enough, you know? That the scales are uneven.”
Louise watches me for the longest moment, a secret smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You don’t get it, Lynley,” she finally murmurs. “You gave him something that no one else can, and he’s the one left trying to even the scales.”
I blink at her in bemusement, and she lets out a wet laugh before reaching out to tap the left side of my chest, just before my shoulder.
“You gave him your heart, and for him? I know that’s everything.”
***
Grafton curls his body around mine, the hair of his chest tickling the skin of my back. “Lynne,” he murmurs, pressing kisses against the spot where my shoulder and neck meet. “Are you awake?”
I groan sleepily, snuggling deeper into my pillow. “I thought the kids were supposed to wake up early,” I complain. “Not you.” I squint one eye at the curtains covering the window. It’s still dark enough out that I know we shouldn’t be awake.
Grafton chuckles, his hand sliding over the silky camisole covering my stomach, gently tugging it up. Almost immediately, my nipples bead against the fabric, and arousal pools between my legs. He blows a gentle breath against my skin, wet from his mouth, and I shudder.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispers, and I roll in his arms, finding his hooded eyes fixed on my face and his lips tilted in a smile.
“Merry Christmas.” I loop my arms around his neck, dragging him down for a deep kiss, hooking my leg over his. He groans, grabbing a handful of my ass and squeezing, right before he rolls me onto my back, slotting easily between my thighs, grinding his pelvis against mine.
He rolls his hips, dragging his steely length along me, nudging my clit. I tear my lips from his with a gasp. “Grafton—”
“Mom!” The shout is loud enough to wake the dead. “Grafton! It’s Christmas! And Santa was here!” And then, a tad more quietly, “How did he know we were here?” A pause, before Ginny gets loud again. “Whatever! It’s Christmas! Get up!”