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The thought of the country house makes me smile to myself.
I know it’s mine like I knew Sheree would be mine. It’s just a simple matter of reaching out for it with both hands and claiming it as mine.
As ours.
Our new home.
Looking up at the night sky I reflect on how glad I am that the truth has come out so soon. I couldn’t bear the thought of keeping anything from Zoe a minute more, let alone days or weeks.
Being alone for a while outside, although it’s cold, gives me the chance to make some phone calls too.
To make sure there’s something special waiting for Sheree once we get back from seeing Zoe off.
I can’t believe we’ll miss her birthday, can’t believe she’s really going. But she knows as well as we all do that it’s a sacrifice she’s choosing to make for her acting career.
Seeing the girls huddled together at the airport, I actually can’t picture Sheree as the young girl from Zoe’s past anymore.
Zoe’s always gonna be my baby in my eyes. But Sheree’s a woman now, my woman.
I can’t say I’m thrilled with Zoe’s choice of an agent, but he seems to know what he’s talking about and I let him know in no uncertain terms that if he messes with my Zoe, he’s messing with me.
He looks mortified for a second but nods in agreement and we shake on it like gentlemen should.
Seeing Zoe off, Sheree figures it’s just me and her in the rented house.
Lonely now without Zoe to brighten it up and we both mumble comments about still having to pick up all our damned boxes from the college.
Pulling into the driveway, I can see at a glance that although it has been short notice, a few phone calls and a fair amount of charm plus maybe working a credit card or two can still pull a surprise out of a hat on a Saturday night in a small town.
It surprises even me that the florist, restaurant, and another local business all came through and disappeared without a trace. And all after hours.
Risky leaving the key under the mat for them all?
Nah. Small town vibes still hang heavy in the streets of Canning Wells. People can be nosy and gossipy here, sure.
But if you tell them why you need a last minute surprise… They’re good for it.
Sheree gasps, seeing the candles in the windows, the lights flickering against the yard despite the steady snow.
She blinks for a second, looking up at me like we might have the wrong house.
“What did you do?” she asks with mock suspicion, punching my arm as I grin to myself.
“Just a little romantic dinner for two,” I murmur, shutting off the car, feeling my heart swell as I glance from Sheree’s wide eyes to the house I know we’ll be spending our last few nights in.
It looks like a scene from a snow globe. All the tiny flakes settling in silence. The warm glow from inside.
“You really are a man of surprises, aren’t you Michael Grayson?” she asks, beaming as I take her hand, lead her up to the porch and open the front door.
The hall is littered with rose petals, with a dozen bunches in vases dotted throughout the whole house.
The smell of them, mixed with the fragrant oils from a newly run and steaming hot bath fill both our senses.
The smell of food a close second, wafting down from the kitchen.
“How did you...?” Sheree asks, but I only answer her with a kiss, hooking my arms around her and pressing my body hard against hers.
No explanation is required.
It’s just us from now on, and every day, every minute is gonna be all about her and how special she makes everything.
How special my world is now that she’s in it. The world she’s become.
My woman. My whole existence.
I’m not sure which is hotter. The bath, our waiting dinner, or the feeling between us, and I have to admit I’m a little unsure which should come first.
I leave it up to Sheree, asking what she wants first.
She looks thoughtful for a moment, but both our stomachs groaning in unison make us laugh, giving us our answer.
“The bath will still be hot,” I assure her, pulling out her chair and seating her in front of a table filled with gleaming silver domes that I open one by one.
I told the restaurant to surprise us, and they haven’t disappointed.
The florist too, adding the bath was an extra touch I never even thought of.
There’s a tiny little dome I leave covered. Only reaching into it when Sheree’s not looking, pocketing the contents.
Maybe that can wait until after dinner.
Maybe until tomorrow, at the new house if I can wait that long.
I watch as Sheree eats heartily, finally losing her last little bits of shyness like eating in front of me. Something I became aware of at the diner.
