Epilogue
Eiley walked blindly over the paved driveway, Brook and Sky holding her hands at either side of her.
“Is this really necessary?” she questioned through bubbling giddiness, her eyes squeezed shut.
“Me and the house are quite good friends these days.” And every square inch of it was perfect, even if she hadn’t been the best painting assistant in Belbarrow when the time had come to decorate.
Still, she’d enjoyed getting her hands, and other parts, dirty over the last few months.
Some of the rooms had been “christened” before even becoming functional, which Warren seemed to take great pride in.
As spring bloomed through Belbarrow, she’d been told to keep away until the final reveal today, but she wasn’t sure what more to expect.
Last time she’d been here, it had already been the home Warren had dreamed of, new furniture slowly building up the rooms and landscapers working through the front and back gardens.
She wondered if she might just take a peek …
“Yes!” Warren insisted, and she forced her eyes shut again quickly. “You’ve never seen it finished .”
“Does it have a pool?” inquired Brook hopefully.
“Er, not at the moment, bud,” Warren replied, earning a sad “ Awww .”
“Well, now this is going to be quite underwhelming,” he muttered.
Saffron babbled obliviously, and Warren’s warmth brushed Eiley’s side as he adjusted his hold of her daughter.
Since she’d let him gradually into their lives, the children had been more enamoured by Warren than ever, and their bond only strengthened day by day with the way he doted on them, planning days out on the weekend and coming home from work with a million stories to tell.
She kept expecting him to get tired – she loved them, but they were a handful, and she’d made clear that he was entitled to space when needed.
Still, he treated them like they’d always been his, letting them visit the fire station on quieter afternoons and being used as a climbing frame even after long shifts.
He made them happier than Eiley had ever thought possible.
Just as he made her happy. It was difficult, balancing a fairly new relationship, but they found a way to steal moments together, mostly because Fraser and Harper were always begging to babysit.
Last weekend, Warren had stayed in the flat with the kids for the first time, and they’d enjoyed a sleepy Sunday morning bundled in bed to watch TV, squished and content.
Like a real family. The fear that something would go wrong still surfaced sometimes, but Eiley saw the love in Warren’s eyes and knew they were all safe.
He wasn’t going anywhere. He was theirs, now, and they were his.
Since her hands were full, she could only nudge his leg with her foot. “It could never be underwhelming. Pleeeease can we see it?”
“All right. On the count of three. Ready?” He and Brook counted to three together, with Saffron adding a random, “Ten!” between one and two.
Eiley opened her eyes and was greeted with the most beautiful house she’d ever seen.
She couldn’t remember how Galbreath Farm had looked before the fire all those years ago, but the new build was both airy and cosy, a place that most people could only dream of owning.
No wonder Warren had put so much money and effort into restoring it.
The chestnut-brown door was flanked on either side by hanging flowers not yet bloomed, and the fenced-off garden-in-progress, which Mum was itching to get her hands on, surrounded the house on all sides.
Blue sky reflected off the tall windows, sun beaming off the slate roof tiles.
She glanced at Warren, awed, and saw his eyes glassy with tears.
“Your parents would be so proud of you, my love,” she whispered, affection filling every corner of her. “All that pain and hard work … You’ve made something truly magical out of it.”
Warren smiled, squeezing Saffron tighter until her golden pigtails eclipsed his face. “I’m not sure I could have carried on without you. All this … It’s for them, and for everything I lost. But it’s for you, too, mo ghaol. For us.”
Sky was already rushing off to point at the little wooden shed, which Fraser had constructed a few weeks ago.
It read Quiet Corner , a place to hide away when the world felt a bit too noisy.
For Sky, but for all of them, too. Inside, Eiley had already placed some of Sky’s favourite sensory toys, along with fairy lights, cushions, and, of course, books.
“Have a peek inside, little man,” Warren encouraged, urging them all through the open gate. “What about you, Brook? Like it?”
“Would’ve been nicer with a pool,” Brook said, and Eiley prodded him in mock scolding.
“What about your own bunk bed? Will that make up for it?” asked Warren.
Eiley frowned. That hadn’t been the agreement. She hadn’t wanted to overrun the entire farmhouse before Warren had even gotten to enjoy it. They were still at least attempting a steady pace, and she didn’t expect such big commitments yet.
“Warren, you can’t …”
“Can’t what? I didn’t build four bedrooms because I like having empty rooms, firecracker,” he retorted, resting his arm over her shoulder. “I want every corner of this house to brim with life. I told you that from the start.”
“I know, but …”
“But?” He raised an eyebrow, patient as ever as she tried to work through the knots of her own mind.
Trying to rewire old pain was proving difficult.
Easier, though, when he was here, which he always was: the first time a customer in the bookstore had been mean to her over the Christmas rush, and the first day that winter’s bleak weather had left her feeling foggy and blue; the first day she’d gotten overstimulated at the Christmas markets and accidentally snapped at him.
They still argued now and again, but never with malice.
One of them would laugh, usually him, then wrap his arms around her and remind her that he loved her, whispering that endearment, mo ghaol, in her ear.
It was like they’d been together for years instead of months.
Like he’d always been part of the family.
Which meant that her current argument was absolutely fruitless, because of course the rooms were for the children. They always had been. She leaned into him, kissing him gently and wrinkling her nose when Saffron poked her in the eye. “Boop!” she said.
They laughed, Warren setting her down so she could toddle around the grass. Just turned two, she was growing too quickly for Eiley’s liking.
“Hold out your hand,” Warren ordered.
She did, watching him root through his pockets with suspicion. It wasn’t all that surprising when he produced a key, although it still left her chest soaring.
“Yours,” was all he said.
She was smart enough not to protest this time.
“Ready to see inside?”
“Yes!” Brook shouted, and dashed in without invitation. Sky and Saff followed, forever attached at the hip. Eiley hoped it never changed. Hoped that, when they were older, they’d be as close as she, Cam, and Fraser were.
“How long before something breaks, do you reckon?” asked Warren with a smirk.
Eiley tapped her chin, pretending to consider it. “I’ll give it five minutes, but that might be underestimating them.”
“Well, then, that gives me just enough time.”
She frowned. “For what?”
“This.” He tugged her close quickly, bodies colliding to push a breathless laugh from her as he pressed kisses into her neck.
The jolt of lust hadn’t faded over their first winter together, neither of them still quite able to believe they could draw such pleasure from each other.
“What do you think? Could it be half yours one day?”
Eiley ran a hand through his feather-soft dark hair. This was what home felt like: a place where her usual worries and stresses couldn’t reach. A person who would fend them off if they tried.
“As long as you’ll have me,” she whispered. “But as gorgeous as the house is, and as happy as I am for you, for us, it’s not why I’m still here. I fell in love with you when you lived in a van, and I’d love you as much now if that was still the case. You do know that, don’t you?”
“Aye, but it’s nice to have the reminder.” He kissed her nose, her lids, her jaw, until she giggled. Once, it was a sound that would have felt out of place coming from her. Now, it was as natural as breathing. “I told you I wanted to give you everything, and I promise I will.”
“You already have.”
“I’m only just getting started with all the ways I want to show you that I love you, Eiley Milligan.
” Without warning, he ducked through her legs to heave her into a fireman’s lift, and she squealed as the blood rushed to her head.
Another thing she was still getting used to: the way he could throw her around with so much ease, and yet only ever used his strength to make her happy.
Butterflies flooded her stomach when he slapped her arse affectionately, and heat thumped through her with every step he took down the garden path, her soft stomach knocking deliciously against his shoulder. She wasn’t sure she’d ever stop wanting him, even if she still complained to be put down.
“I’m carrying you through the threshold like a gentleman. Sweeping you off your feet. You shouldn’t have started reading your naughty books to me if you didn’t want me getting any ideas.”
She rolled her eyes, which was considerably harder to do when gravity was working against her.
It was true that Warren had been enjoying Eiley reading to him at night, a hobby she used to do alone now something the two of them shared.
It helped him sleep after a busy day, and it meant she still had time to keep up with her reading while also getting to spend time with him.
Even if, sometimes, the book got a little raunchy and she had to stop midway through a sentence, blush creeping up her cheeks.
Some of the chapters did, in fact, give them a few creative ideas now and again, though, so she always went back to them. It turned out Warren was a fan of romance, after all.
The smell of pine and cinnamon greeted her as they entered the house, and she waited for Warren to place her back onto her feet. He didn’t, promising, “One last surprise.”
“Aren’t I supposed to see your wonderful masterpiece right side up?”
“Honestly. I build a whole house and she still has to argue with me,” he groused, but it ended with him kissing the crease of her hip, nose grazing her side. Finally, she was set down, and she balanced against him until the dizziness subsided.
She didn’t even know what room she was in, only that shelves of books swam in front of her, and for a moment, she thought she’d been transported back to the bookshop—
Until she realised they were her books. Hundreds of them. Ones she’d rebound herself, ones she’d treasured on her bedroom shelves, ones that had been in storage because she couldn’t bring herself to give them away.
And in the corner of the room was a desk filled with craft supplies.
For rebinding.
“Warren, I can’t believe you,” she breathed.
His cheeks creased with triumph. “Thought you’d like it.
Do you know how difficult it was to sneak all those boxes of your books you had in your mum’s loft?
” And then, because she always warned him not to comment on her extensive collection: “That’s not to say you have too many, of course.
This is a perfect number of books. The British Library would agree.
Still, I kept them on the ground floor to avoid the ceiling sinking in, just in case. ”
She snorted, tracing her finger across the spines. Perhaps she didn’t rely on books to escape anymore – they enriched her life instead of saved her from it – but their presence gave her a way of seeing the future, here, reading new stories.
“I’m beginning to feel like you actually might like me a bit,” she said, because she didn’t know how to express just how much she felt for the man in front of her.
Warren’s arms slid around her waist. “Just a wee bit. More than my other secret girlfriends. But don’t worry, I’m not madly in love with you and committed to building a life with you or anything like that.”
“Phew. That’s a relief.”
And then Brook shouted from somewhere upstairs, “Mum, Sky broke the dinosaur lamp!” and the chaos continued.
Life continued – more complete than it ever had been before.