Page 80 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

“Miranda, you can’t go wandering around here. What if we get arrested for trespassing? What if it’s not safe?” he says as he gets out to follow me.

“It’s fine, I know the owner,” I assure him.

“You do? Carter told me about this place being for sale, but it sold before I could view it or put in an offer. Who owns it?”

Going up the weathered steps of the wrap-around porch crying out for a porch swing, I pull a set of keys from my pocket. “I do.”

Unlocking the door, I enter the old farmhouse. It’s clean but needs lots of TLC to make it the home I dream of. There are four bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs, a walk-up attic that could be a cozy place to relax. The main level has a living room, dining room, and kitchen. I’d like to make it a more open space.

Declan is still standing on the porch.

“Are you coming in?” I ask.

“You…you bought a house?”

Shrugging, I say, “Technically I bought a farm. The house is part of it. There’s the barn, pastures, a field of Christmas trees.” I point in the general direction of the field of pines and firs.

“I don’t want to deal with running a tree farm during hockey season. I’m going to speak with Carter’s uncle about it. Maybe he’ll harvest the trees planted here to sell on their lot across the street and we can discuss whether to plant new ones. Did you know it takes approximately seven years for a Christmas tree to grow?”

“Uh…no. Daisy, why did you buy a farm? Here. In New Jersey.”

“Come in and close the door. You’re letting in the cold,” I say. Taking a seat on the staircase to the second floor, I pat the step next to me in invitation. Even though I have on a sweater and a jacket, I shiver. I wasn’t kidding about him letting in the cold. New windows and better insulation are on my list of improvements for this place.

He shrugs out of his coat and drapes it over my shoulders before taking the spot next to me. I snuggle against him, loving the way his strong arm curls over my shoulders.

“I need a home, Declan. Someplace mine no one can take from me or make me leave. I’ve never had that. I like it here. I have friends, a job, it’s peaceful. I don’t want to start over somewhere new again. I want to put down roots here.”

Peeking up at him through my lashes, I see he’s staring straight ahead through the glass of the front door. I wonder what he is thinking, but I’m afraid to ask.

Swallowing when your mouth has gone dry is tricky, but I manage it.

“I know your dream is to breed horses and coach riders when you retire from hockey. There’s a barn with stables and there are pastures. There’s room to build a riding ring and set up jumps. We can have trail rides through the woods. We don’t back up to the river like Carter does, but there are streams and creeks.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I’m terrified I’ve screwed everything up. But I’m doing what I need for my own stability. It’s something Kendall and I have discussed, making our needs a priority. She gave up everything for her ex and refuses to do it again. In Bedard, she found someone who accepts that and will compromise while also still fulfilling his own needs. I’m praying Declan will too.

I turn and rest my back against the banister to face Dec. His arm slips from my shoulders, and I miss the warmth. Grabbing his hand to reestablish our connection, I look up into his handsome face.

“I bought this farm. My name is on the deed, but I bought it in hopes it would be our home someday. I know you plan to go back to Ireland after hockey, and I don’t know what kind of demands the Unicorn Council will put on you, but is there any chance you’d stay here, with me, on Forget-Me-Not Farm?”

His blue eyes, the same shade as the farm’s new namesake, have a sheen of tears when they look down at me.

“Miranda, I was going to buy this farm for us if I had the chance. You snatched it out from under me. The Council is based in Philadelphia for the next ninety-eight years. It runs on hundred-year cycles and moved from Rome last year. I don’t care if we’re in Ireland or Scotland or Timbuktu. As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters. Make a home, have a family, grow old together, with you. I would have named it something with Daisy in the name, though.”

I give a shaky laugh through the tears clogging my throat. “So, you’ll stay here? With me?”

Declan rises from the stairs and pulls me up too. His jacket falls from my shoulders, but his embrace keeps me cozy.

“Miranda, wherever you are is where I am. I want this to be our home. But we’re staying with Carter until we get some things done here. A lot needs updating to be comfortable.”

We walk hand in hand through the house, talking about changes we’ll make and dreams we have for the rooms. Even though we are being careful not to talk seriously about marriage and babies yet, I know we are both picturing the corner room with the peeling yellow wallpaper as a future nursery.

The sounds of other vehicles approaching have us looking out the someday nursery window to see our friends arriving. They are carrying folding tables and chairs, bags of food, and who knows what else. I guess I’m hosting my first party?

“Maybe buying a house this close to the Carters wasn’t the best plan,” Declan murmurs in my ear as we go downstairs. I grin. Having friends who randomly drop by is something I’ve always dreamed of. Declan goes outside to help carry things in.

I wander over to the mantel above the stone fireplace. We can’t light it yet, so the room is cold, and my hands are in my pockets. My fingers run over what I keep in there as a talisman of sorts. Pulling it out, I look at the small plastic figurine of a black unicorn rearing on its hind legs. This was the start of my collection. One of my classmates had it on a birthday cupcake she was sharing with her friends. I didn’t get a cupcake but the other girls at our table did. Francine threw it out because she was cross her unicorn was black and not glittery pink. When they left the dining hall, I stayed behind and rescued the unicorn from the rubbish bin. I washed it off in the girls’ bathroom and have kept it ever since.

Placing it on the mantel, I run my finger along the back. “We’re home,” I whisper.

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