Page 68 of Forbidden Dreams

Wyatt doesn’t even say anything to her. Instead, he just walks up the stairs. “When are we going to go back to the other house?”

“Probably tomorrow,” Harmony answers, and I slam the door closed behind me, making her jump. Wyatt walks up the steps with his head down. I try to calm myself by walking to the kitchen, and for the first time in a long time, I grab my whiskey.

“Is there a problem?” she asks softly as she stands there with her hands in front of her.

“Yeah, there is a problem.” I put the bottle down after taking a pull. “You aren’t leaving this house,” I declare as I take another shot.

“Brady.” She takes a step forward.

“You aren’t leaving this fucking house.” I walk around the island counter. “Because now that you are in it, it is exactly why I built this house.” I close the distance between us. “For you and for Wyatt. I didn’t even know it at the time, but now”—I put my hands on her hips and pull her to me—“having the two of you here, I see that it’s all been for you.” She puts her hands on my chest. “Stay with me?” I move one hand to hold her neck. “Move in with me.”

“But…”

“Build a life with me.” She blinks, and a tear falls down her cheek. “You, me, Wyatt, let’s build a life with each other.”

“I don’t want to go.” We both turn and see Wyatt there with his own tears in his eyes, and he quickly rubs them off. “I don’t want to go back to the old house. I don’t want to go to the house before that. I want to stay here.”

“Wyatt.” She turns to look at him.

“I want to stay here with Brady,” he states, trying to be brave.

“Come here, buddy,” I urge him, holding out my arm. He doesn’t want to come but comes anyway. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” I take him in my arms, and he turns his head on my stomach and hugs me.

I look over at Harmony. “Okay,” she says softly, “we’ll stay.”

“It’s a good thing you agreed to stay.” I grab her, pulling her to me, then whispering in her ear, “Because I was going to handcuff you to my bed until you agreed to it.” She looks at me, and I see her cheeks getting pink. “Do you want that?”

“Does she want what?” Wyatt asks, and I look down at him.

“Cake,” Harmony covers, trying not to get him to ask more questions.

“Gosh, no more cake,” Wyatt says. “I’m caked out.”

“Okay, shower,” I remind him, “and then we redecorate that bedroom tomorrow.”

He nods and runs out of the room, a lot better than he was a bit ago when he walked up with his head hanging. “So”—I pull her to me—“handcuffs?” There in the middle of my kitchen, I kiss her without the notion of her leaving hanging over our heads. Without the notion of her ex showing up. I kiss her knowing she’s never going to leave this house. That, in this house, we’ll eventually become man and wife and our kids will grow up here. Where they will take their first steps and their first tumble, where we will live forever.

Epilogue

HARMONY

Seven months later

I turn down the street to the bakery, seeing a couple of people already out on their morning walk. I look over and see that it’s just turned 7:00 a.m. The sun is shining in the sky and you can feel the spring air and smell the flowers starting to come up.

Pulling around to the front of the bakery, I park the truck and get out. Very different than it was five months ago when I would go around the back at the ass crack of dawn so no one would know that I was the one making the cakes. But the minute the judgment from the court case started fluttering through town, Ms. Maddie said she wasn’t lying anymore. “Fuck them. I’m tired of you showing up and hiding. You come tomorrow at seven when we open, and that’s it.” So the following day, I came at seven.

It took one person to see me delivering the cakes for more rumors to fly. Which ended up with my ex-mother-in-law storming into the bakery and trying to strong-arm Ms. Maddie into not selling my stuff. But the numbers were there, and she was making a killing from them, so she politely told her to bless her heart and get out of her store unless she was going to buy something. From the chatter going around, she left or actually stormed out of there and vowed to make her pay. So far, her threats are falling on deaf ears because my cakes have been selling out faster than ever. Now that I’m able to buy more baking items, I’m also baking double the quantities I normally have. Those were also selling out by the end of the day. It also helped that the bar was buying a bunch of them and putting them on their dessert menu. Something Brady and I discussed him not doing. But in the end, I had to admit he was right. It was a good thing to do. We were even working together to get a dessert pairing going with the newest blends for the day tours, which seem to be booked up for the next six months. It’s the thing to do when you’re in town, apparently.

I tuck the keys to the truck in one back pocket while I put my phone in the other one before walking around to the side of the truck and opening the door, grabbing the first box and walking to the bakery. I get to the door and have to tuck the box to my hip to pull open the door. The bell on top rings, and I wait for Ms. Maddie to come out from the back. I walk over to the counter, placing the box on it and wait for her to come. It takes her a long time, and I look over the counter toward the back when I see someone else come out. “Hi,” I say to the new face.

“Hey,” she replies. Her face is white, and her eyes and nose are red, as if she’s been crying.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and she just stares at me and then the box.

“You must be Harmony, the girl who bakes the cakes,” she says to me, totally ignoring the question I just asked her.

“I am.” I nod at her.