Page 52 of From the Embers
“Oh, you sweet woman,” he whispered, bringing his hands up to frame my face. He kissed me deep and lingering before allowing me to continue.
“I don’t know when or where they were together in the past, but I think we can both assume, given the circumstances, that they didn’t have much tact or respect for anyone—especially not us. You told me at the cabin that, inside that bed, they didn’t matter. Well, I want it to be true every night. We deserve more than to spend one more night in their bed of lies.”
Tender emotion flooded his eyes as they roved over my face. His fingers curled into the back of my hair, his thumb feathering my cheekbone. “What you and me have is brighter than any shadow they could ever cast, but I’m not gonna lie. I will sleep a hell of a lot easier knowing you aren’t in the bed you shared with him.”
“I can sleep easier knowing that too.”
His lips pulled into a playful smirk. “You know I’m paying you back for all this shit, right?”
“Okay, but we better go check it out and make sure you like it first.”
His lips thinned and his brows drew together. “I gotta be honest here. I’m slightly afraid of Jillian.”
I patted his chest. “Good. You should be. Insider information: She has a bum knee, so if you’re ever trapped in a room alone with her, run.”
Chuckling, he released me. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Asher owes me a cannonball competition.”
I smiled huge. God, I loved that he loved my kids. “He’s going to beat you again, ya know?”
“Don’t be so sure. I have it on good authority the judge has warmed to me since the last time.” He winked and lifted my hand to his mouth for a kiss.
Eason’s place looked amazing. Well, technically, it still looked like a madhouse covered in drop cloths and filled with half a dozen workers, but I could see Jillian’s vision as she gave us the penny tour. My beach décor had been replaced with a pallet of dark blues and the occasional pop of red. He had a new leather sectional, a café table for two tucked into the small kitchen, and a giant platform king-sized bed covered in rich navy Prism bedding in the bedroom. A team of men in Hud Construction polo shirts were touching up the paint, while others drilled hooks into the wall that would later hold Eason’s guitars.
Based on the massive grin on Eason’s face—and the hug he gave Jillian as we exited to allow the men space to finish up—he adored every single bit of it.
And he wasn’t alone in that. My bedroom had been transformed into a sanctuary. The new regal high-backed bed with matching ornate dressers and end tables was a stark comparison to the modern aesthetic Rob and I had chosen together. I adored how different it made the room feel, in both ambiance and aura. In contrast to the dark furniture, a kaleidoscope of pinks and teals were woven together so skillfully that I feared Jillian’s talents were being wasted behind a desk at Prism. She’d joked about being my best friend, but there was no way anyone else could have put together such a perfect room for me.
My favorite part though? Eason’s pure satisfaction as he stood in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the doorjamb, sexy as all sin without the enormity of Rob’s ghost weighing him down.
The kids dragged us around the rest of the house, showing us what else Jillian had done. Like moving all of Rob’s pictures, including a few from our wedding, to the long hallway leading to the kids’ bedrooms. Every night, they got to see him and the façade of a family we’d once had. But I no longer had to stare back at him while relaxing on the couch or preparing dinner in the kitchen.
Eason became overwhelmed with emotion when she told him she’d planned to do a similar setup in Luna’s room with pictures of Jessica as soon as the lavender paint on the walls dried. This earned her another hug from my guy. And it earned my guy a breathy moan from my girl. I laughed at both.
Nothing had been solved. There wasn’t enough furniture or paint in the world to cure the pain Rob and Jessica had carved into our souls. But there was something to be said about having space to breathe. Something promising in the fresh start of it all. Something that simply moving Rob’s things out hadn’t done.
We were making it ours, and despite how scary it was to let go and have faith again, with Eason and our small family happy, I was happy too.
And for the rest of the day, Eason and I breathed real easy while he lost three cannonball contests in a row.
