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“Jesus,” Mia mutters. “We don’t even want to know.”
I text back and pocket my phone. “Don’t be salty.”
“No,” Annie says. “We’re not. It’s good to see you smile.” Mia gives me a look that matches Annie’s words. “You deserve this.”
“Thanks, girls.”
Lance
“Imagine writing a book about sex and putting a flower on the cover,” Mason deadpans. “How do they know it’s that kind of book and not one about gardening?”
I chuckle, unboxing another load of books and placing them on the table. “Scar says it normally means something to the story.”
“I guess you can market a flower,” he ponders, looking around the soon-to-be-finished library. “But there’s like a lot of flowery shit here.” He gestures to the stacks of books Scarlet has collected over the years.
“She bought the discreet ones so that your dad wouldn’t ever know what she was reading. I’ve managed to find a lot of the originals since, so she has both now.”
“Two of the same book?”
I shake my head. “Some come with hardcovers or special covers.” I walk to a row of shelves. “These four books here,” I say, pointing. “All the same book.”
Mason looks horrified. “How much does she spend on books?”
“Nothing. Scar would never get all the editions. But I’ve seen her looking at them before, so I presumed she’d want them in here.”
“Reading is supposed to be a healthy habit.”
“Trust me.” I smirk at him. “It’s a perfectly healthy habit.”
He holds up a hand to stop me. “I get it.”
We continue to unpack the books, Mason very surprisingly sticking to the system I set up, making sure to categorise the books in sub-genre, keeping series together, with the authors being in alphabetical order. It took me days to figure out a system that works. I could have done a-z with authors and their multiple books, but Scarlet always was a mood reader, and I think she’d prefer having them in genre order.
I had the room leading off from Anthony’s sitting room gutted whilst we were in Bora Bora. Scarlet could have walked in here at any point in the weeks since we’ve been back, but between the hospital, my spontaneous scheming, and the fact Scarlet rarely comes in here anymore, keeping her out in the evenings has been easy.
“She’s going to live in here,” Mase muses. “Ave, too.”
“Waverley will be allowed in this room when she’s fifty, and I’m senile,” I tell him, unboxing a raunchy book with a naked-chested man on the cover. “We’ll keep the door locked.”
“Yeah, agreed. You really bought all of these?” He picks up the classics I found years ago before I knew I wouldn’t be here to move the library myself. “Must have cost a fortune.”
“Pocket change to you, Lowell.” Stepping around the table, I clear my throat. “I have something to ask you.”
He opens the book, frowning. “What’s that?”
Pages rustle as he flicks through, pausing every so often to peer down at a chapter heading.
“I want to marry your sister.”
His eyes lift to mine.
“I know I’ve not long come back into her life, and I know I hurt her.” I hold his gaze, needing him to know how serious I am. I may have had Anthony’s blessing, but I was a different man then, and Mason is the man of this house now. “She wants to be with me, and that’s a blessing in itself. I’ll worship her for the rest of my life regardless of a ring on her finger. But I love her, and I’d be the proudest man on earth to get to call her my wife.”
Mason places down the book.
“No fight will ever be big enough. No one else could ever be good enough. She’ll always be first—her and Waverley before anything else. She’s my world—my home.” I scrub at my mouth before putting my sweaty hands on my hips. “Your dad once told me I’d have his blessing should I need it. If you’ll let me, Mase, I want to marry your sister so that I can spend the rest of my life trying to be half the man he thought I was.”
Mason chuckles quietly, a little taken aback.
