I laughed and cried through the entire thing. I lifted my head to meet his anxious eyes. “I think this is the most beautiful thing you have ever written.”
He leaned down and brushed his warm lips against my cheek. “Do you agree to the terms?” he whispered in my ear.
I didn’t really need to think about it, but I thought he should sweat it out for at least a few seconds.
When I didn’t answer right away, he leaned away with concern.
I dropped the folder and grabbed his coat, pulling him closer to me. “I’m all yours. Now, I demand that you kiss me.”
“Mmm,” he groaned, “I think I’m going to like this new contract.” He brushed my hair back and took a moment to gaze into my eyes. “Aspen, thank you.”
“For what?”
“For helping me be a better man, and for this.” He leaned in and skimmed my lips once before pressing his against my own. His slow hands ran down my back and landed on my hips, bringing me closer to him.
I barely got a taste of him before Emma let Henry blow her whistle. She yelled, “Hey, no curve fondling—there’s kids on this field.”
We both gave her an apologetic grin.
She returned our smiles with one of her own and let Henry loose. He ran to me and I took him up in my arms, right where he belonged. Miles kissed his head and then mine. I swore I heard Sophie say, “Now they’re yours. Take good care of them for me.”
I had every intention to.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Isabellastaredupatthe abandoned castle and, for the first time, the crumbling stones did not haunt her. The truth had set her free.
Dexter took her hand and held it firmly in his own. “It’s over.”
She turned towards him and admired the man who had saved her life in more ways than one. She loved everything about him, from the way the cowlick on the top of his head perpetually went untamed, to the mischief that played in his chocolate eyes. But mostly, she loved the way he protected her heart, even from herself if he needed to. She rested her head on his broad shoulder. “This is just the beginning.”
I wiped my eyes and peeked over theAscending Stonescompleted first draft to find Miles nervously pacing the floor in front of the rather large Christmas tree the kids had picked out at the tree farm last week. Henry’s new electric train went around and around it. My little man could spend hours watching it. Miles, always impeccably dressed in his black sweater turtleneck and trousers, looked beautiful in the glow of the white Christmas lights and fireplace.
I couldn’t believe Isabella’s journey had come to end. Together, she and Dexter had discovered it was his unclewho was the true killer. He was in love, more like obsessed, with Dexter’s mother. In a fit of rage, the uncle killed Dexter’s mother because he could never have her. He also killed the Alexanders, who turned out to be Dexter’s grandparents. The uncle framed Isabella’s father because he knew that he was Dexter’s mother’s one true love. Dexter’s father was honorable, like his son, and had married Dexter’s mother to protect her from his evil twin. Miles had done an amazing job with all the twists and turns. I was guessing until the end who did it.
I tried to savor each word because I didn’t want it to end, not only because the writing was amazing, but because I owed so much to Isabella. Because of her, I learned to forgive myself and was willing to take a chance on love again. And who better to take that chance with than Isabella’s creator? I know Miles said that Isabella came to him, but I think she always lived inside of him. She was the part of him who yearned to break free from his family’s shame. A shame that was never his to bear.
“I’m finished,” I informed Miles.
He immediately stopped his pacing and raced to my side on the couch. “Well?” He was as eager as a child on Christmas morning.
I placed my hands on his stubbled cheeks and kissed him once. “It’s brilliant. I have a new favorite book.”
His hands cupped my face. “Are you in earnest, darling?”
“I would never lie to you.”
“It is one of the many reasons I love you.”
“I love you, too. Should we go and get the kids? I’m sure my mom has them in a sugar coma by now and it’s almost Henry’s bedtime. I don’t want him to be grouchy tomorrow.”The kids had spent the day with my parents making Christmas cookies and shopping, giving me the day to read. Miles wanted my opinion before he sent the completed manuscript to his editor.
Miles nuzzled my neck, making me rethink picking up the kids right at that moment. “There has been a change of plans. The children are spending the night with your parents.”
I tipped my head back, so he didn’t miss any spots on my neck. “What will we do with our time alone?” My tone suggested what his answer should be.
“I’m glad you asked. I have some research I need you to help me with.”
That was not what my tone indicated. I leaned back with a crinkled brow. He had to be joking. “You just finished the book and we’ve hardly seen each other because you’ve been so busy writing.”
