Page 151 of Fragile Sanctuary

“Home is wherever you are,” he whispered. “You’re my sanctuary. Where I feel peace. Where I feel seen. Don’t want anything more.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “I want you to move in.” My eyes watered as my lips pulled into a smile. “You’re going to have to deal with dick flowers and color, though.”

Anson barked out a laugh, then leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine. “Small price to pay for a life with you.”

EPILOGUE

RHODES

SIX MONTHS LATER

I turnedonto the drive leading toward the Victorian, but my SUV didn’t bump and bounce now. The road had been transformed, and Anson hadn’t been willing to settle for simply regrading the gravel; he’d had the whole thing paved. Once I had decided to stay and keep rebuilding, he became dedicated to making everything…perfect.

Biscuit’s head popped over the divider, resting on my shoulder as he took in the sights in front of us, just like I was. I’d expected to see an endless array of trucks. Shep had brought in every single one of his guys for the past two weeks in hopes offinallyfinishing the restoration.

They’d run into more issues than I could count but hadn’t given up. And the past three weeks, no one would let me inside to see the final progress, wanting it to be a surprise. But now, there wasn’t a single vehicle in the area other than Anson’s.

Instead of heading for the guest cottage Anson and I hadmade our home for the past six months, I guided my SUV toward the main house. I pulled to a stop in front of the flower beds that flanked the front door. While they lay mostly dormant as winter was about to set in, I knew what lay beneath the soil—the promise of a riot of color come spring.

Just knowing that had warmth spreading through me as I climbed out of the SUV. I moved around to the back to let Biscuit out. He no longer required a leash. Anson had worked some fancy training mojo I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around.

I glanced around, itching to peek in the windows, but then my gaze caught on a piece of paper taped to the front door.

Come in, Reckless. I know you’re already snooping.

A laugh bubbled out of me. Damn that profiler for always knowing me so well.

My heart picked up speed as my hand rested on the doorknob. This was it. I was going to see my house for the first time in almost fifteen years. Myhome.

No,ourhome. Anson’s and mine. Because he had been the one to help me bring it back. But more than that, he had helped me find the strength to see it through. He was there as I healed physically and as I put the pieces back together emotionally. Just like I was there for him.

It could never be anything other thanours. Our safe place. Our sanctuary. Our home.

Biscuit leaned into my side as if urging me on.

“Okay, buddy.”

I twisted the brass knob, and the door opened easily. As it did, I sucked in a breath. Everything about the space was stunning. Gleaming wood, a gorgeous chandelier, and…my gaze locked on the wallpaper.

My eyes burned as I took it in. The fairies with shimmery wings. The same pattern my mom had picked out so many years ago. “How?” I croaked. When we’d tried to find it, the manufacturer had told us it was out of stock.

Anson’s deep voice cut through the quiet space. “I got a listof stores that carried the brand from the manufacturer and started calling. A place in Ohio had it. Ordered everything they had left.”

My gaze moved to him. He wasn’t in dirty work clothes. He’d showered and wore a flannel shirt with…strands of pink in the patchwork of threads. “How many stores did you call?” I whispered.

“Three hundred and thirteen.”

Of course, Anson knew the exact number. Of course, he hadn’t stopped with that many nos.

“I love you,” I breathed.

One corner of his mouth kicked up. “I know.”

“Jerk,” I muttered with a laugh.

“You want to see some more?” Anson asked, his grin widening.

“I don’t know if I can handle more. I’m only in the entryway, and I’m already a puddle.”

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