Page 72 of Must Love Lavender and Little Lies
“And why is that?”
“Because it made us stop lying to ourselves,” she said, then looked up at me.
I gently touched her chin. “Perfection,” I said, then leaned in and set a sweet kiss on her lips.
When I pulled back, she sighed contentedly. “I am perfectly happy, but I think there is one being who is going to be happier than me about this arrangement.”
“Who?”
“Pip,” she replied with a laugh.
I chuckled. “Maybe he’ll turn out to be a good goat-herding dog.”
“One can hope, but don’t get your hopes up. That leafy pup is more of a lap-warmer.”
“You never know. Sometimes people surprise us.”
“Sometimes we surprise ourselves,” Juniper replied with a laugh.
“That we do, Missus Thorngrip.”
“Juniper Thorngrip. I like it.”
“Me too, my love. Me too.”
CHAPTER 27
JUNIPER
It was nearing midnight when the sound of cowbells began to ring. The reception was still well underway, with all of Moonshine Hollow celebrating, but it was time for Granik and me to make our departure.
Grinning, Primrose found us. “Your chariot awaits to take you back to Juniper’s cottage for the night. There’s no telling when I’ll be able to get everyone here to leave, but I promise we’ll have everything back to rights as soon as possible,” she reassured us.
“Thank you for everything, Primrose,” I said, pulling her into a warm embrace. “It was perfect, truly perfect.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied warmly. “Now, you go on and have a, um, magical night,” she told us, then turned to the crowd. “Let us wish good night to Mister and Missus Thorngrip,” Primrose called.
At that, the others cheered, and Primrose led us to her wagon once more.
“There’s a basket in the back,” she told me. “Enjoy it. And, good night,” she called with a grin, then stepped back.
With cheers and whistles, the people of Moonshine Hollow sent us off.
The wagon pulled away, and we drove into the night. The spring evening wrapped around us as we made our way down the lane toward the village. The sky was a deep, soft indigo, scattered with stars, and the air smelled of woodsmoke and new earth and, faintly, of the wisteria that had been woven into everything today. Granik had his arm around me, my head against his shoulder, and the only sound was the fading music behind us and the quiet chorus of night insects beginning their song.
“Well,” Granik said.
“Well,” I agreed.
“We’re married.”
“That, we are.”
He looked down at me. “How do you feel about that?”
“Like something that was always meant to be has finally settled into place,” I said. “Like a seed that has finally found the right soil.”
“I like that. That’s it. Exactly.”
