“Can I ask ye a question?”
“Is it more important than kissing me?”
“Right now?” He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
I sighed. “Shoot.”
Elliot reached out and brushed hair out of my face.
“Will ye marry me, sasanach?”
I stared at him, then looked down at his hand, which had two silver bands on his ring finger. With my lips parted in shock, I felt like I was choking on air. He removed one of the rings and held it out to me.
“I wanna marry ye,” he breathed. “I know what it’s like to not have you in me life, and how much it hurt. Not havin’ ye in me life scared me more than anythin’ else in this world. I want ye in every single way, sasanach. Marry me. Be my person for life.”
“Yes,” I said, trembling. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you!”
With a beaming smile, Elliot slid the band on to my left ring finger, and then I took his face in my hands and kissed him until a throat was cleared.
“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Doctor Abara’s voice carried loud and clear. “She just doesn’t listen.”
“I’ll make her listen,” my dad’s amused, and very relieved, voice answered.
I opened my eyes and looked at Elliot’s ocean blues as they gazed into my eyes.
“That was some kiss, Elliot McKenna.”
“Ah.” He grinned, rubbing his nose against mine. “That’s because you’re some woman, Noah Ainsley.”
I kissed him again, and smiled when Elliot jumped away laughing as Doctor Abara held up my patient chart like a weapon that he was going to whack Elliot with. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I was in pain both physically and emotionally. Bailey’s death was very fresh in my mind – and heart – and I knew the time to come would be a test for me. I was going to have to adapt and overcome many things. I had to somehow move on from a dark past that was filled with pain because of Anderson; I had to come to terms with the fact that the blank spots in my memory may never return. I had to move forward. But I knew I could do it all because I would have Elliot by my side.
We were going to do things in our new way . . . we would take it day by day.
EPILOGUE
NOAH
Five years later . . .
Rumbling laughter followed by light-hearted giggles – that was the first thing I heard as I entered my home after a long day at work. I’d been hired to provide flowers and arrangements for the funeral of an old man who had passed away a couple days prior, and the orders from his family and friends had me, my mum and two of my other employees rushed off our feet. I’d never had a day like it since I opened Bailey’s Lily Patch two years ago.
I was certain my feet were numb from the pain.
“Do I hear something?” I said out loud as I removed my jacket and hung it up on its peg. “Huh. I was sure I heard something, I must’ve imagined it.”
I turned, set my bag down on the floor, then tossed my keys on to the side table just as shouts sounded from behind me. I was expecting to be surprised, but the volume of the shouts frightened me out of my skin. I didn’t have to fake it when I screamed, I bloody well near shit myself. I spun around with my hand on my chest and found the culprits. Both of them were on the floor and laughing so hard they couldn’t speak.
“That wasn’t funny!” I admonished. “If I have grey hairs, it’s because of you two!”
“Aw, Mummy,” my almost-four-year-old son said as he got to his feet. “You should have seen your face! It was like this.”
He pulled a very unattractive, almost-constipated-looking face that had me placing my hands on my hips as I stared down at him. My son, my beautiful Baylor, soon stopped laughing and swallowed when he took in my stance and expression. I think two seconds passed by before he pointed to his left and said, “He made me do it, he planned the whole thing. I’m only a baby!”
He was only a baby when he was in trouble – every other time he was a “big boy” and most definitely not a baby.
“Traitor,” Elliot grumbled as he got to his feet. He was trying his hardest to keep from smiling. “How was work, Mummy? How ’bout Daddy gives ye a good ol’ foot rub?”
I made a mental note to scold them both later, but the foot rub could come first. I kissed my son on the head and told him to go and watch some television.
“I’ll allow it,” I mused to Elliot as I removed my platform heels, vowing never to wear anything other than flat, comfy shoes to work for the rest of my life. “I could actually really use a good rub-down.”
I grinned as I passed by my husband, who made a noise deep in his throat that told me my feet weren’t the only place on my body that he’d like to rub down. I walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. I grabbed some wet wipes, sat on a chair and cleaned off any dirt, sweat and stink left behind on my feet from my workday. I sighed as I got up and binned them, before resting my hands on the counter and closing my eyes.
“Headache?” Elliot murmured, and his arms encircled my waist.
“No,” I said, leaning back against him. “It was just a long day. Mum had been taking orders for the past two days for a funeral, and I didn’t realise how many we had to fulfil until I opened the shop this morning. It was non-stop all day, but it’s not the work that has me feeling . . . upset. I couldn’t stop thinking about our Bailey, and how there was a shop catering orders
