Mr. Park Lane (The Mister)

“Thanks. I thought so.”

“We have some news too, actually,” Beck said. “We’ve finally set our wedding date. Christmas Eve, if you’re free.”

“Hold on, you’re not married?” Autumn asked. “I thought you’d already gotten hitched?” Gabriel whispered into Autumn’s ear and she nodded.

“About time,” Tristan said. “As best man, I’ll be there.”

Joshua cleared his throat from next to me. “Tristan’s not best man, is he, Beck?”

“Bloody hope not,” Dexter said.

“You’re all my best men. I hope.” Beck raised his glass. “Cheers to the best men in London and the women who made them even better.”

I glanced up at Joshua and he turned to give me a stupid grin. “You make me better,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss into my neck.

Epilogue

A month later

Hartford

The residences of the Park Lane International were beginning to feel like home. But I wasn’t about to admit that to Joshua or we’d never move out. I tucked my feet up on the bench as Joshua lay in his bubble bath. The man certainly knew how to relax and enjoy life. These moments with him when we shared some wine and discussed our days were some of my favorite times together.

I swiped the iPad, bringing up pictures from a house that had just come on the market. “I really like this one.” I turned the tablet to face him.

“That bath is tiny. If you won’t get in this one with me, there’s no way you’ll get in that one.”

“You can’t base every real estate decision on the size of the bath.”

“Is that a rule I’m not aware of?”

I sighed. He was being so picky about where we were going to live. I wanted to get on with it. I couldn’t bear the thought of all the money he was spending on this place.

“Actually, I have a surprise for you.”

I narrowed my eyes. Surprises from Joshua were usually extravagant and unnecessary, but before I could ask him more, the buzzer on the door went. By the grin on Joshua’s face, he’d been expecting the interruption.

“It better be nothing more than cupcakes.”

“That as well.”

He grabbed the sides of the bath and stood, the water cascading off him like he was Helios rising from the ocean. “You want me to tell Beck to get lost for half an hour?” he asked as he caught me ogling him.

I jumped up off the bench. “Beck is here? With Stella? This is my surprise?”

“Part of it, I suppose.” He wrapped a towel around himself.

“I’ll go and let them in.” I grabbed my wine and the iPad and went to the door. When I had finished my hugs, Joshua wandered in. I set about making drinks for everyone.

“I’m going to put this into the TV,” Beck said, holding something in the air.

I glanced at Joshua, who nodded his approval to Beck. At least one of us knew what was going on. I poured the wine and handed around glasses.

“Come sit down,” Joshua said, reaching for me from where he was on the sofa.

Stella plonked herself down next to me and we all looked up at Beck, who looked like he was about to tell us if it was a film, a book, or a play.

Beck grabbed the remote control and pointed at the TV. “Welcome to Number Six Alford Street.”

A film showed the exterior of a red and cream brick house. The camera swept up the stone steps and went through the large double doors.

I’d been ambushed.

I stood. “Hold it right there. Press pause.” When the video stopped, I turned to face Joshua. “This is why you haven’t liked any of the places I’ve shown you? You had this up your sleeve all along?”

He grimaced. “Not all along.”

“Why didn’t you say?”

“I want you to see what it’s going to look like,” he replied.

“It’s not finished yet,” Beck said. “But it will be by Christmas.”

“And it’s just around the corner from our place,” Stella said, beaming at me. “It’s going to be gorgeous. Trust me. And we can work together to get it exactly how you want it.”

Joshua groaned. “No, that’s not going to work. If we leave it to Harford, the place will be kitted out with IKEA furniture.”

“There’s nothing wrong with IKEA,” I replied, sinking back down into the sofa.

“No, there isn’t,” replied Stella. “But this is going to be a sanctuary for you two. And Joshua likes the finer things in life so—”

“I’ll do you a deal,” I said.

“Name it,” Joshua replied.

“I’ll pick from options that Stella presents me with, no questions asked, if you agree to match whatever we spend on Alford Street and donate it to the Luca Foundation or Medicine Sans Frontiers.”

Joshua frowned, which I’d learned was a sign he was going to try to negotiate. But I was going to hang firm on this. “I’ll donate an amount equal to what we spend on the fixtures and furniture to the Luca-Kent Foundation.”