Page 131 of After All The Wreckage

The porch light was on as I’d left it. A light was on in the kitchen and another was on in the main bedroom. That was the only room with furnishings at the moment. I wanted the bedroom to be full of furniture that was new to us. That would be ours and ours alone. A haven of our present while the rest of the house would be filled with the items from generations of his family and my life with Mom.

I guided him, still blindfolded, down the path and up the front porch. I unlocked the enormous maple door with its oval stained glass and wrought iron trim and pushed it open. Would he know where we were simply from the smell of the place—the antique wood and hint of generations that had lived there? Another family had been here, adding their aura to the house,but their stay was just a blip in the time it had belonged to the Palmers.

I led him down the hall to the kitchen. My gaze landed on a picnic basket on the marble counter. A champagne bottle rested in a silver ice bucket with two crystal flutes standing next to it. A charcuterie tray sat beside a little sign I’d made with shaky hands this morning.

“Okay,” I said, my voice breathy and shaky. “You can take the blindfold off.”

He didn’t right away. Instead, I was surprised when he pulled me to him and kissed me again. Full of love and heat and trust. My heart banged furiously from both the passion and the sweetness of it. From knowing that no matter what else happened, Gage Palmer loved me just as much as I loved him.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

Gage

THE SEARCH IS OVER

Performed by Survivor

Somethingabout the steps we’d taken into the building tickled at the back of my brain. My mind was trying to assemble the pieces when Rory was really the one who was best at puzzles.

For whatever reason, bringing me here had made her nervous, which she rarely was. Whatever this surprise was, she’d given it lots of thought and put her heart into it, and yet she was still unsure of whether I’d like it. I didn’t want her to feel that way.

I knew, without a single shred of doubt, that whatever she’d put together for us tonight would be something I loved. Just like I loved her. Bringing in the New Year with her tonight—twined together as I hoped we would be—was going to be perfect.

To show her how I felt, I kept the blindfold on even after she’d told me I could remove it, and I pulled her toward me untilour fronts collided. I placed my palms on either side of her face and leaned in to kiss her.

Just like on the shore minutes ago, the simple act of joining our mouths seemed to unlock a storm inside me. Waves of lightning that I wanted to turn into the thunder of our bodies pounding together. A rhythm I’d been almost desperate to find again since the time in the hotel room in D.C., and yet our daily lives had kept it from us.

Now, there was nothing to stop us.

At least, I hoped not. Maybe there was a room full of people watching us fondle each other. That brought a smile to my lips, and I lifted my head.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“We don’t have an audience, do we?”

She laughed softly. “No. But take off the blindfold because I’m not sure I can handle the suspense any longer.”

I chuckled and lifted my hands to undo the knot.

“Wait!” she said, capturing the material before it fell from my eyes. Then, she turned me slightly. “Okay.”

She pulled the blindfold away, and it took me several seconds longer than it should have to realize where we were. The familiar dark cherry cabinets. The granite counters Dad had added to the kitchen. The recessed lighting and beautifully stained floors. My throat squeezed tight.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, the words barely getting out as my chest and lungs felt like they’d stopped working.

She waved at the counter where a picnic basket sat open next to a silver bucket. A note written with Rory’s tightly formed letters read “Welcome home to the Palmer-Bishop residence.”

I pushed the heels of my hands to my eyes. Fuck.

Then, I swung around, examining the kitchen that had once belonged to my family. The place where our dining tablebelonged stood empty. The walls were bare. There was nothing inside the glass-fronted cabinets. The house felt abandoned.

I looked down to see worry lines pulling her brows together.

“Say something,” she said with panic in her voice.

“I’m not sure I understand…” I said slowly, trying not to get my hopes up too high. Maybe she’d just rented the place for the night. Maybe the Realtor had given her the keys so I could have a last moment in the home I’d loved.

Because there was no way Rory had the money to even put the down payment on this house. It was so far out of both our price ranges, it was ridiculous. We’d be lucky to own a house the size of her Nan’s cottage someday.