“I didn’t handle things well,” I told him. “And because of that, I’m not sure where we stand.”
“How about we just start at the beginning?” he said simply.
I lifted my head. “A do over?”
His shoulders lifted. “If that’s what you want to call it.”
“What would you call it?”
“Constructive editing,” he replied, smiling.
A flutter of hope filtered through my heart. He was right; there was no need to start over. We just needed to iron out a few kinks, and thanks to the insight of my crazy knocked up friend, I felt strong enough to do it.
“Things are already different, Noah.”
“They are,” he agreed, reaching to pat the baby goat to his left. “We have a kid now.”
***
Caring for a baby goat is as demanding as caring for a newborn human. Probably inspired by Patty the lush, Noah made the kid a bed by lining a laundry basket with a soft blanket. He lit the living room fire to keep her extra warm, and after handfeeding her from a baby’s bottle, he tucked her into her basket.
“She needs a name.” Noah flopped down beside me on the couch, probably exhausted. “We can’t keep calling her kid.”
I rested my head on his shoulder. “Why do you like animals so much?”
If he thought the random question was odd, he didn’t let on. “They’re not as complicated as people,” he replied, tangling his fingers through mine. “I’m as simple as they are so we connect well.”
I let out a soft laugh. “I’m simple too.”
He put his hand on my chin, tilting my head. “You’re not, Lil.” His green eyes locked on mine. “You’re creative and passionate and resilient. A girl with those traits is far from simple.”
“You see that in me?” My shaky voice was barely there.
His hand slipped through the buttons of my shirt, resting on my heart. “I can feel it in you,” he said in a deliciously low tone. “Don’t sell yourself short.”
Twisting in his hold, I threw my arms around him and kissed him to within an inch of his life, overcome by nothing more than the pure joy of knowing that he was the one who’d eventually make me whole.
Finally, I broke the kiss. “Penny,” I whispered, inching his head back so I could see his eyes. “We should call her Penny.”
Noah leaned, brushing his lips against mine. “Perfect,” he murmured.
It was perfect. If I was in for a penny, I was in for a pound.
14. FANFARE
Charli
All good things come to those who wait, and Lily had been waiting a lifetime.
Returning to her job at the salon must've been impossibly hard, but in true Lily style, she did it without making a fuss.
From what I could tell, nothing had changed. Jasmine was still a tyrant, and Lily’s long work days were spent sweeping up and making coffee because of it.
I asked her more than once how she coped, and her answer never changed. “I just have to be patient,” she replied. “Better things are coming my way, Charli.”
Little did she know, her patience had paid off.
After spending two months tirelessly pitching the story of Pawesome Designs to her editors, Bente was finally given the green light.
Lily had no idea that she’d made page three of the Manhattan Tribune. She also had no clue that she'd made hundreds of sales in the five days since the article had gone to print, but that was about to change.
Making a song and dance had never been my forte, but news like this deserved all the fanfare I could muster.
Following my instructions to a T, Noah met us a few doors down from the salon with Penny the goat in tow.
At first, he was on board with my plan, but while I put the finishing touches to the big reveal, he was having second thoughts.
“Are you sure this isn't overkill?” he asked, sounding worried.
It was a fair question. The bottle of champagne I handed him was a traditional celebratory gift, but the huge bunch of balloons that I’d tied to it was somewhat excessive.
“It's lovely overkill, Noah,” chimed Bridget, skipping over cracks in the pavement. “It's Lily’s happy day.”
“She'll love it,” I added.
“You wouldn't steer me wrong, would you, Charli?” He looked up at the mass of coloured balloons floating above his head. “This is way over the top.”
I grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a shake. “An article in the Manhattan Tribune is worth celebrating,” I replied. “This is going to be huge.”
Noah didn’t look convinced, so I tried harder. “I checked the website again before we left home,” I told him.
“And?”
“Over six hundred sales!” I slapped his arm. “She's killing it.”
“Overkilling it,” added Bridget seriously.
Noah’s eyes darted between us. “You two work as a tag team. You realise that, right?”
I slipped Penny’s leash off my wrist and handed it to him. “Shut up and take your goat,” I replied, laughing.
“This is so shady,” he mumbled.
I couldn’t blame him for being distrustful. Even though the news of their romance was well and truly busted, Lily fought hard to keep it private and low key. Sending her city vet beau into the salon armed with a bunch of balloons, a bottle of Moët and a goat was anything but low key.
“This is Lily's ultimate celebration kit,” I explained. “Balloons, ribbons, champagne and a puppy.”
His line of sight dropped to the chocolate brown goat at his feet. “Penny’s not a puppy.”
I pulled a copy of the Tribune out of my bag and slapped it against his chest. “She is today.”
Seriously close to being overloaded, Noah slipped the newspaper under his arm. “This is about more than the article, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said simply.
A confused frown swept his handsome face. “What am I missing, Charli?”
I reached up and straightened the collar on his shirt. “Nothing is missing, Noah,” I quietly replied. “And because of that, Lily Tate is now a hundred percent whole.”
The End
Stone Roses
(Book Seven, The Wishes Series)
Available January 1, 2017
No one ever looks for cracks in perfection, and Adam Décarie is no exception.
He loves his wife and he loves his children. As far as he’s concerned, he doesn’t have a problem in the world.
After a difficult stint in New York, Adam, Charli and Bridget settled back into their free-range life on the beaches of Pipers Cove with ease.
Every day is a joy, and when their precious new baby arrives, everything is perfect.
Adam feels content, blessed and happy.
But Charli feels nothing at all.
And that’s a problem.
G. J. Walker-Smith, Shadow Lily
(Series: # )
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