EPILOGUE
SHERIDAN
8 Weeks Later
“Shez, post!”
I startle at the sound of Brinsley’s voice out in the hallway.
“Yeah, coming!” I shout back from my office.
I’ve been very unproductive today, and I blame Myles. The second I sat down at my desk to start illustrating for the day, he appeared in the garden and started…gardening.
It’s the first Monday of April and the weather is unseasonably warm.
Myles started in a light T-shirt and old, well-worn jeans. After half an hour he caved and changed into shorts. When he started getting really sweaty—which was no eyesore to me—he took his T-shirt off. Again, this was no bad view, but it has been incredibly distracting. I have done nothing. N. O. T. H. I. N. G. Other than stare at him and his naked back and the tattoos painted on him while drooling like a woman starved. I don’t know how many times I’ve wondered if my neighbours would mind me mounting him right there in my little garden.
A trowel has never been so sexy.
At some point Beau, who is on a day off—and has done nothing but complain—arrived and trampled all over my sexy gardener/lonely housewife fantasy, but then I learned to tune him out and refocus on my man.
My man.
I moved Myles in last week. His tenancy was up sooner than he realised while we were looking into Sam getting fostered and decided to adjust the application slightly to include me and the spare room in my house rather than Myles”s flat.
It’s a big responsibility, taking on a child when the relationship is so new, but after speaking to my parents and Brin, everyone was supportive of the idea. Plus, having such a big family was a huge positive on our part in the eyes of the care system. Sam will have a support network—a family that loves him. And that love will be unconditional.
My relationship with Myles feels even stronger than it did the first time. It definitely helps that my brothers aren’t a constant rain cloud over our heads, a lurking threat to our happiness. It’s the total opposite, actually. Sometimes I can’t get rid of Beau.
Our application to foster Sam was approved on Friday, and we’re telling him tonight. We’ve told him he’s coming for dinner—which is not the first time we’ve done it—but the difference is that we’ll all be there to break the news. Family dinner at the fairy cottage.
I’ve never been so nervous and excited in my entire life.
In the hall, I take the stack of post off the side table and sift through it. Most of it is crap, obviously. There’s a reminder to renew Hector’s insurance, a letter from Myles’s bank, and from the DVLA which is likely his new driving licence.
And then there’s a big A4 envelope with my name and a big fat purple T on it. The ToonStream logo.
Oh God. The pitch I sent back in December. The same day my life upended. They finally came back to me.
I amble through the house in a daze as I open the letter, finding a wad of printed white paper and a brochure inside. The first page has CONFIDENTIAL stamped on it in giant red letters.
My heart is going a mile a minute. What is happening? Are they rejecting me? This seems like a very big letter to deliver just to say they don’t want me and my work at their company.
I barely notice anything else going on around me when I flip the page to read the first few sentences.
Myles has appeared in the kitchen and is drinking from a glass of lemon juice as he leans casually against the kitchen sink. “You alright, Birdie?”
I don’t answer him.
Dear Miss Bennett,
We are writing to you with regards to the submission you sent to us on the 18th of December last year.
We apologise for the delay in contacting you, but we take any submissions very seriously and take the time to review them in detail, which brings me to your submission for ALL_IS_NOT_ALWAYS_FAIR. We greatly appreciate the time you took to put forward your talent, and we are extremely interested in taking the project forward with you—
I start screaming before I finish reading.
Myles is across the room in seconds, his glass smashing against the stone floor where he abandons it. “What’s the matter? What happened?”
“Oh my God!” I shout, my hands shaking violently. “Holy fucking shit!”
“What, Sheridan?” He’s fussing over me, touching my face and checking my pulse and searching my eyes.
“Myles!” I’m incoherent apparently.
“What?!”
“What’s going on?” Beau appears in the threshold of the back door, looking surly and concerned.
“Why are you screaming?” Brin joins us all then, decidedly more cautious than Beau. “Was it a spider again?”
“No, it wasn’t a fucking spider!” I squeal and turn the page around to show them. “Look!”
The three of them close in on the letter, reading in sceptical silence, before utter chaos erupts.
“Holy fuck!” Beau shouts.
Brin gasps, “Sheridan!”
And Myles sweeps me off my damn feet so that I have to cling to him like a damn koala. I’m being spun around, kisses littering my face, and I can’t help my delighted, squeaking giggles, joining the soundtrack of my siblings’ joyous excitement, praise filling the room.
“I can’t believe it,” I say when Myles stops moving. “I sent it on a whim ages ago. I forgot about it, to be honest.”
“I told you you’re awesome.” Beau takes his turn to sweep me into a hug. “And this proves it.”
“I’m shocked. Shocked. I’m getting an actual TV show.” I pull back. “Oh fuck, you can’t tell anyone. It says confidential.”
“I’m pretty sure you can tell whoever you like.”
“Considering you’re someone with a PR agent, you should know better than anyone that is not true,” Myles scolds him.
“We won’t tell anyone. Not yet,” Brin promises.
“I’ll tell Mum and Dad. And Nash,” I decide. “Fuck, and Sam. But no one else.”
“No one else,” Myles agrees with a nod.
I turn my face up to him, smiling helplessly, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to my lips. “I’m so proud of you,” he says against my mouth.
“Thank you.” I peck him back. “Can you put a T-shirt on please? I’ve managed to get sweet fuck all done all day because of you.”
Beau snorts when Myles flexes. Brin just looks uncomfortable.
“It’s nearly time to get Sam, anyway.” Myles shrugs, leaving one more kiss on my mouth. “Sure you don’t want to come with me to get him?”
“I’m sure.” I wrap myself around him, easing into his body heat like a lizard on hot sand. “I want you to have five minutes with him before he comes into this madhouse and everything changes.”
I’m not sure when Beau and Brin decided to leave, but I know that when Myles kisses me again, deeply and sincerely, we’re alone in the kitchen again. I savour the taste of him—this man who makes me feel secure and loved and cherished—sink into his warmth and the safety of his touch.
“You and me, Birdie,” his voice rumbles.
I smile into his mouth. “Me and you, Bear.”
“And Sam.”
“And Hector.”
He chuckles, and the sound is like liquid smoke. “Always.”
“Always.”