Page 68 of Sold Rejected Mate
I think this is the right move. I think this is the thing I can do to show Valerie that I’m listening to her, that I care about her. That I will never, ever leave like I did that night.
But it could also be wrong. Or she could have decided that was my one and only strike.
And I don’t know what I’m going to do if that’s the case. Don’t know if I can stomach the idea of going the rest of my life without her by my side.
The house sits nestled between pines and aspens. We’re just down the road from Xeran and Phina’s, a ten-minute walk, or a single minute to run as a wolf. Xeran and I will be hunting in the same neck of the woods from now on.
It’s not a mansion. Not even half the size of my old place, and not even a quarter the size of my parents’, but a little bigger than Xeran’s, with a lot of the same history. The family who lived here was in the place for years, until the grandparents finally retired and decided to go cruising, leaving the log-cabin-style house empty and on the market in a town that constantly catches fire.
I was the first buyer they heard from.
It’s everything Valerie said she wanted. Cozy stone and timber, a wraparound porch. Flower boxes and diamond-paned windows. I started looking for it the moment she said she wanted it, and when I found it, I took another two weeks to get everything perfect—the bench swing, the flowers.
The nursery.
I painted most of it myself, staying up until three in the morning. It’s all green and gold, the accent wall a forest scene that I commissioned from a local artist.
“Incoming!” Kalen calls, and I hear the soft whine of Phina’s car a moment later.
Last night, while painting the nursery, I battled with myself over how to do this. Standing out in front of the house, or on the porch? Should I have a ring for her? Or just present the house as my apology?
There’s no time to think, no time to figure it out the rest of the way, because Phina turns down the long driveway. I see Valerie in the passenger seat, looking around, her mouth dropping open in surprise.
Her green hair catches in the sunlight. And when she steps out of the car, I swear I catch the slightest bump under her sundress. Evidence of what we’ve created together.
I can’t stop myself from going to her, from walking down the long path, until she turns around and sees me. There’s a long speech piled up in my head, all about who I am, what I’ll be to her, every promise I can make to her about the future.
But when I reach her, I can’t say a single word.
And, it seems, neither can she.
Rather than pushing me away like I expect her to, she lets out a half-sob, half-laugh and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me in close.
I hold her and hold her, forgetting about everyone else here. Forgetting my script.
“Val…” I whisper into her hair, her name the only thing I can force off my lips. The only thing running through my mind at any time of day.
“I know,” she says, squeezing me back, until I’m sure I can feel the bump under her dress. “I know, Lachlan.”
We stand like that for too long, considering the other people standing there with us, and when I finally pull back from her, I clear my throat and open my mouth, but before I can say anything, Felix hollers out the front window, “Did she say yes?”
Val’s eyes widen, and I hastily say, “I’m not asking you to marry me.” She blinks, her brow coming together, and I add, “Not yet. Not here. It will be special when I do.”
The smile that spreads over her face is almost worth everything we’ve been through.
“Do you want to see the house?” I ask, clearing my throat again and holding my hand out to her, elated when she says yes and takes it. With the Sorels, we form a train heading inside, where Felix, Kalen, and Soren are waiting for us.
“Lachlan…” Valerie trails off, turning slowly to take it all in—the exposed beams, the stone fireplace, the way the afternoon sun filters in and washes everything in golden light. “It’s perfect.”
“And the chickens are outside,” Felix says, grimacing. “But we can get rid of them if you change your mind.”
There’s a chorus of laughter, then we move through the rest of the rooms, the others falling away when we come to the nursery door. I’m nervous, my heart thumping a little too hard, but I nod at her when she sets her hand on the doorknob and turns.
When she opens the door, it’s like something out of a movie, the light perfect, the furniture somehow looking both new and lived in at once. She steps inside, pushing her fingers against the rocking chair I deliberately set by the nursery window.
If she likes looking out the window to do dishes, I thought I might give her all the best views in the house.
Slowly, after a long moment, Valerie turns to me, whispering, “You bought me a house.”
