“And then Jeremy gave me a bit of a talking-to. And I’ve been thinking for a while now about what I want my life to look like. I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t much care, as long as you’re in it.”
Tears threatened to spill over. “You really mean that.”
“I do.” He squeezed her fingers. “Loving again terrifies me, I’m not gonna lie. But being without you scares me more. I never thought I’d ever find this again. That there’d be someone I couldn’t live without.” He hesitated a moment, licked his lips and then said, “You told me once that the people that you loved had all left you. When I remembered that, I realized why you sent me away that day. You walked away first so I wouldn’t, didn’t you?”
The tears did spill over then. It was the secret wound she’d only ever shared with two people—him and Ana. And Ana was gone now. She nodded. “I suppose I did.” She sniffled and wiped her fingers over her cheeks. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to cry.”
“It’s okay. I hurt you. We hurt each other because we were scared. I’m still scared, Jess. But I’m here. And I’m staying, if you’ll have me.”
Silence fell in the tiny kitchen. “What do you mean, staying?”
He reached out and cupped her cheek tenderly. “I mean, you get to decide. You have a life here. I can write anywhere. I have a place in New York and the house in Nova Scotia and wherever you want to be, that’s where we’ll go. All I need is an internet connection, a supply of coffee and you.”
He was offering her everything. She loved this loft, but she loved a lot of things. And there was still one thing they hadn’t talked about. A very big, very important thing.
“What about children?”
He met her gaze evenly. “I miss being a father. It’s going to scare me to death, but, yes. Yes, to a family. I look at Jeremy and Tori, and it’s something that’s missing in my heart. I’ll always have a spot for Owen. But I won’t love our babies any less, Jess.”
Now he really was giving her everything. She stood and went over to him, sitting on his knees, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she started to cry for real. He was here. He loved her. He wanted babies. And Bran...she knew in the deepest parts of her heart and soul that he was not the kind of man to leave once he’d promised to stay. Not if he had any choice in the matter. And life didn’t have guarantees, did it?
But it certainly had wishes and dreams come true.
“Do you know what I want the most?” she said, holding him close.
“What?”
“I want to go home.”
EPILOGUE
THE CHICAGO AIR had lost the summer heat, and the breeze was now cool and brisk in the first week of November. Bran held Jess’s hand as they entered the gallery, and then gave her a kiss as Jack rushed over and took her away to do artisty things. Bran knew the drill; he’d done the same during signings and events, and he was thrilled to see Jess enjoying so much success.
She was so beautiful tonight, in a long black dress that hugged her curves and her hair up in the topknot he’d come to love so much. Her freckles were hidden by makeup, and her lips were a pretty shade of pink. She’d told him, back in the hotel room, that she’d forbidden the esthetician from using false eyelashes. He’d laughed and kissed her, nearly ruining the careful makeup job.
There’d be time enough for that later.
Instead, he accepted a rare glass of champagne and took his time wandering through the gallery. The collection was small but beautiful; he was so stinkin’ proud of what she’d accomplished. And these paintings would always be special to him. It was like a visual diary of how he’d fallen in love with Jess. Or as she was known tonight, the Jessica Blundon.
There were three pa
intings in black and white that he thought were stunning. One was of the reflectors of the lighthouse lamp, and so very different from her other works. A second one was a fishing boat, tied to a dock. And the third made him catch his breath. It was him. Standing on the bluff by the lighthouse, looking out over a rough sea. He looked so...lonely. Bereft. He understood why she’d done it in black and white.
An arm slid through his, and she pressed up against him. “Hello, handsome.”
“Hello, famous artist. This one...wow, Jess.”
“I took a pic of that the first day, when you kicked me off the property,” she said softly. “Something about you just drew me in. I never believed you were an angry old troll.”
He snorted and laughed, and looked down at her. She shared an impish smile with him that made him warm all over.
The last months had been nothing short of amazing. Jess had gone back to Nova Scotia with him, staying at his house, and he’d turned the lighthouse into a studio for her. He’d finished the draft of his book, and they were making a stop in New York on the way home so he could meet with his agent and editor. He’d sold his brownstone there that he’d shared with Jennie, and that had been hard, but Jeremy was going to hook them up with a new property that was just for them.
Life was moving forward, and he was happy.
Unlike the man in the painting. But instead of being sad, it made him realize how far he’d come, thanks to the love of the wonderful woman at his side.
“Come with me for a moment,” she said, removing her arm from his and reaching for his hand instead. “There’s something I want you to see.”