Epilogue #2
“There was nothing to tell you,” Nick returns quietly.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I told him I didn’t want any part of it.
I don’t know how to make things right with Paisley, and right now…
I don’t think I want to. And Mom—” He cuts himself off, pain flashing through his eyes.
“I don’t know, man. She’s my mom, you know? ”
“You love her,” I say simply.
Nick gives me a pained smile. “I love her,” he agrees.
“But I don’t like her so much right now.
Same goes for Paisley.” He glances around the room, eyes lingering on Gracie, his mouth tugging down.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Gracie didn’t deserve any of what happened, and I hate that my family was responsible. ”
“Your family,” I tell him. “Not you.”
“Same thing.”
“It’s not,” I counter. “Mom said it to you once before. You’re not responsible for their choices. You’re only accountable for your own actions.” There’s enough meaning threaded into my voice that Nick glares at me.
“We’re not talking about Halsey right now.”
“Are we not talking about her because she’s not talking to you?”
“Fuck you, Brax,” he hisses through his teeth. “Leave it alone.”
I do, but only because it isn’t the time or the place to have anything out with Nick, as much as he might need it. He was there for me when I was fucking everything up, even if it took a while for the message to sink it. Now, I’ll be here for him, even if he pushes me away.
He hasn’t hit rock bottom yet, but he won’t be alone when he hits the ground, no matter what he thinks.
I look over at the window across from me, catching a flash of movement that makes me grin. “We’ll talk later,” I tell Nick, ignoring the irritated grunt he gives me, and stand. “Rumpel, can I borrow you?” Gracie turns to look at me in question, and I tip my head toward the door. “Come on.”
She heaves herself out of her chair with a beleaguered sigh that makes me roll my eyes as I lead her to the backdoor. When she realizes my plan, she draws up short, complaining, “It’s cold. Why are we going outside?”
I snag a coat off the hook by the door—Dad’s—and wrap her up in it before shoving her out the door. She yelps as she stumbles down the steps, already shivering, but comes to a stop just a few steps from the door.
I quickly skirt around her, wanting to catch her awed expression as the snow gently falls down around us. There’s not a lot, just a dusting that I can barely feel when it brushes across my cheeks. It’s not even settling on the ground yet, but Gracie’s face makes it all worth it.
“It’s snowing.”
I chuckle. “So it is. Maybe next year we could go away. Guarantee ourselves a white Christmas,” I murmur, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into me, grinning when her teeth chatter. “Somewhere with a big fire, where we can watch the snow fall from inside.”
She tips her head back, closing her eyes. “It’s so quiet out here,” she says, her voice hushed. “So peaceful.”
“Beautiful,” I murmur, never taking my eyes off Gracie, and her mouth curves up. “This is the Christmas we should have had last year.”
She shakes her head, the wind blowing a strand of hair over her lips. “I thought we put that behind us.”
I reach out, brushing it away, and her lips tremble under my touch. “We did,” I agree. “But I won’t ever forget. It’s what keeps me from making sure we never end up back there.”
She slowly lowers her chin, her stormy eyes locking with mine. “I don’t think that would be possible,” she says. “Not with how we are now. We’re better now.”
I swallow hard. “Yeah, we are.” Her nose is turning red, and another shiver racks her body. “Let’s go back inside.” I laugh. “I’ll get Mom to make us a hot chocolate.”
I turn to usher her inside, but Gracie grabs my arm, yanking me back. “Wait! I’ve actually…I’ve got something for you.”
I look back, flicking one brow up. “What is it?” I ask curiously. We opened our presents this morning at her house before coming here to do more with the family. But there’s no denying that she’s pulling a small box out of her pocket and holding it out to me.
“I wanted to give you this today,” she says, eyes on the black box in her hand.
It’s the size of a small jewelry box, with a red-and-green striped ribbon tied into a bow.
“But I wanted the moment to be perfect.” She looks back up at me, her eyes creasing at the corners as she grins. “This feels pretty perfect.”
“Every movement with you is perfect,” I argue, but she just laughs, shaking her hand, pressing the box into my chest.
“Open it!” It’s nothing short of a demand, and I reach out pulling the box into my hand. I pull the ribbon cautiously, like I’m handling a bomb, and Gracie lets out an impatient huff that has me moving even slower.
“I’ll take it back,” she threatens.
“No, you won’t.”
She blinks. “No, I won’t, but I’ll annoy the hell out of you for an extended period of time. All the hot firefighters on television. And cops! All the cops.”
My brows lower as I stare at her, hand frozen on the ribbon. “Seriously?”
She flashes her teeth at me in a bright grin before she growls, “Open it!”
“Yes, ma’am.” I pull the ribbon away, dropping it into her outstretched palm and, without ceremony, flip the box open. My breath catches painfully in my throat as I stare at the contents—a cushion of silk and a key nestled on top.
“Rumpel?”
“I know we haven’t talked about it, but it feels right.
You spend more time there than you do at home,” Gracie rushes out, barely stopping to take a breath.
“I’ve always wanted a home, a place that was mine.
I wanted a place where I belonged, somewhere that was permanent and could never be taken away.
When your parents helped me get the house…
” She blows out a breath, the air misting in front of her face.
“I’ve never asked for much, never taken up too much space that wasn’t mine.
I just…I existed.” She reaches up, cupping my face in her freezing hands.
“Until you. And now I want to ask for everything, and that means having you in our home, building the future we always envisioned for ourselves.”
My eyes sting, and I don’t try to hide it as I close the box and tuck it into my pocket, not wanting to risk losing it.
I wrap my arms back around her, dragging her against me and pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, her tongue warm against mine—a complete contrast to the freezing tip of her nose.
I pull back reluctantly, staring down at the woman who is my entire world. “Yes.”
“Yes?” she echoes on a breath.
“I’m ready for our future,” I tell her, voice confident and firm. “I’m ready for anything, as long as we’re together.”
Gracie
I reach across the bed the next morning, searching for Braxton, but the sheets are cool to the touch. I drag my eyes open reluctantly, hearing a thump coming from deeper in the house and the quiet hum of music.
I get out of bed, immediately hunting for some fluffy socks and pulling one of Braxton’s hoodies on before walking out to find my wayward boyfriend.
He’s not hard to find, standing in the middle of the living room, half the furniture pushed away from the wall and standing in the middle of a drop cloth, wearing sweats and nothing else. “Um…”
He whirls around, roller in hand and a guilty look on his face. “Morning, Rumpel,” he says brightly. “How’re you feeling?”
“I’m feeling…confused,” I tell him, biting back a smile. “What’re you doing?”
I can see the debate going on behind his eyes before he decides fuck it. “You made a deal with me,” he says determinedly. “You said when I moved in, we could repaint the walls.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “And you needed to do this today?” I demand, widening my eyes at him, and then pointing at the paint. The equipment. “Where did the paint even come from?”
He touches the back of his neck, eyes shifting away from mine. “I bought it,” he mumbles quietly. “I kept it in Dad’s shed. I put it in the back of the truck last night when you were busy helping Mom.”
“Okay, when did you get it all?”
“Four months ago.”
I prop my hands on hips, dropping my chin to my chest, another laugh escaping me. “So, what? A month after I agreed? You’re crazy.”
“I know, but I always knew we were gonna end up here,” he says, placing the roller down and closing the distance between, pressing his forehead to mine.
“I had no doubts.” There’s a pause when he presses his mouth to mine, his tongue sliding against the seam of my lips before dipping inside and tangling with mine.
Warmth unfurls in my stomach, sinking lower as I sigh into his mouth, wrapping my arms around his neck.
Braxton pulls away, burying his face against my neck, but I can feel the way he’s smiling when he says, “And I told you, Nolan left streaks. I had to fix it.”
“And the truth comes out,” I say, pushing him away from me. He makes a noise of protest, but I’m already grabbing his roller, inspecting the faded blue color. “Not bad,” I admit.
“It’s Courtland Blue,” Braxton tells me. “It’s the closest I could get to the color of your eyes.” I glance back at him, the tips of his ears red as he comes over, grabbing a second roller and putting it in the paint.
“You were trying to match my eyes?” I ask, and he makes a noise of agreement as he comes toward me, holding the roller up next to me. His eyes shift between the roller and my face, his brow furrowing.
“Yeah…” he says slowly. “And you know what?” Before I can guess at what he’s going to do, he drags the edge of the roller over my nose. I gape at him, feeling the wet, cold paint on my face, and he grins crookedly. “Yep,” he says, popping the p. “It’s pretty damn close.”
“Ohhhhh, you are so dead.”
He whirls away from me with a bark of laughter, but the move just gives me the perfect target. I swipe out, the roller catching the middle of his back and leaving a massive streak across his skin.
“Not bad,” I declare, stifling my grin. “Now get to work. You started this job, so you better finish it.”
Braxton turns back around, brandishing his roller like a weapon, and I shriek with laughter, darting away from him, thinking that our first official morning together in our house couldn’t be more perfect…or messy.