“And you?” I ask. “Are you really okay with all of this? Sharing your house, your life, everything?”
“Alice.” He turns me around in his arms, and his voice is rougher than usual. “I spent years building a life that looked impressive and was empty. Big house. Nice cars. Money to burn. Then a lass in a Queen of Hearts costume stumbled into my world at a Halloween party and wrecked every plan I ever had.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “This house hasn’t been a home since I bought it. But it is now since you moved in. Do you understand the difference?”
I press my forehead against his collarbone and breathe him in. Oranges and warmth and safety and mine.
“I love you,” I say against his chest.
“I love you, lass.” His thumb brushes the knot at the top of my spine. “Now. What do you want for lunch?”
I laugh. “You’re as bad as Dane.”
“Where do you think he learned it?”
A jolt of happiness makes me smile. I lift my head and glance over my shoulder at the canvas, with its wild, messy colors.
This is my life now. Chaotic and mine. Two men who love me.
Epilogue
Three months later.
Cobalt blue drags across the canvas in a long, wobbly streak. It’s not perfect, but the color is right, deep against the warmer tones underneath. I step back and squint at the whole thing.
Huh. It actually looks intentional.
I’ve been taking lessons for two months. Now I’ve got paint under my fingernails more days than not, and my instructor says I have a good eye for light.
I wipe my hands on the flannel I stole from Leo. One of his old ones he never wears anymore. It’s covered in paint.
He’s never getting this back.
“Alice!” Leo’s voice carries up the stairs, and my whole body warms from his Scottish rumble. “Come down here, lass!”
There’s something in his tone I can’t place, and now I’m curious.
I set my brush in the jar, wipe my hands again—more blue smudges on the flannel, sorry not sorry—and head downstairs.
Leo’s standing at the open front door with his arms crossed andthatgrin. The one where the lines around his mouth go deep and his hazel eyes crinkle and he looks like a man holding back a secret.
“What?” I ask.
Then I hear a car door slamming.
I peer around his shoulder, and my heart hammers so hard it might burst through my chest.
There’s a vintage car in the driveway. The backseat is packed, and the trunk is open, stuffed with cardboard boxes.
Holy shit. Dane’s finally here. He’s visited a couple times, but it took him longer to pack up his life than any of us liked.
Dane comes around the side of the car and—okay. He looks different, but it’s not physical. He’s still tall, still broad-shouldered. Still the kind of handsome that makes my brain short-circuit on a regular basis. But there’s something looserabout him. Like he finally put down a weight he’d been carrying so long he forgot it was there.
He sees us waiting for him, and the corners of his mouth lift. “I brought more than a suitcase this time.”
I look at Leo, and he’s still grinning. “Did you know about this?”
“Who do you think helped him find a shipping company for the rest of it?”
I bolt down the front steps. Dane catches me when I throw my arms around him. He holds on longer than I expect. His chin rests on top of my head, and I breathe him in, sandalwood and clean cotton, and my eyes sting.
