Wondering what happened to Cleo after she and Libby talked to Robbie?
“This is it!” Bryce turned off Red Barn Road into the gravel driveway of a two-story white farmhouse. “The couple who lives here needs to move because the husband got a new job. The wife was in my clinic the other day with one of their cats and mentioned that they’d like to sell quickly, without a real estate agent.”
“You’ll need a good home inspection,” Cleo said. The windows looked new, and the metal roof appeared in good condition, but an old house could have a lot of hidden problems.
From how excited Bryce had seemed when he picked her up, she’d expected something more, but the house he was interested in buying was a simple box with a roof, without even a front porch to keep the rain off someone who came to the door. It looked … ordinary, the sort of old farmhouse you passed on every back road.
Maybe she was being too critical. Maybe every Missouri farmhouse looked a little drab in January, when the tree branches were bare and the fields were brown.
“It’s got forty acres and a great barn,” Bryce said, tugging a knit cap over his short brown hair and zipping up his Carhartt jacket. “Plenty of room for my dogs to run around and space if I want to get a horse or two. Plus, it’s three miles closer to town than where I live now. That would be a lot more convenient.” He looked over at her. “Hold on. I’ll help you out, so you don’t land in the mud.” He came around the truck.
Cleo grinned. She should have realized that Bryce’s priorities in a house were not the same as hers. Not that she saw herself owning a house anytime soon. Libby would be moving out of her apartment once she got married, and Cleo would get a new downstairs neighbor at the place on Elm Street, hopefully someone quiet and nice.
“The location is excellent,” she said to Bryce. “I can come visit you, then drive half a mile back toward town and visit Libby and Sam at Ashlington.”
“Thought you might like that,” Bryce said as he pulled a key from his pocket.
The yard was squishy from the recently melted snow, so they stayed on the flagstone path as they approached the front door. Bryce unlocked it and gestured for her to enter first.
Two steps in, Cleo stopped short, her jaw dropping. “This is amazing.”
“The husband is a contractor who came in to do work at the hospital three years ago. The wife is an interior designer. She said she’d gotten a lot of ideas from Architectural Digest,” Bryce said. “It’s not the typical Missouri farmhouse anymore, but I still think I like it.”
He still thought he liked it? The house was a work of art.
Cleo wandered through the first floor, taking in every detail. The walls and ceilings were white with exposed stained beams. The style and decorating were modern, yet small features maintained the farmhouse character, like the simple light fixtures, stone fireplace, and what had to be the original hardwood floors, worn from years of use but freshly stained and polished to a high shine. The roomy kitchen had been completely renovated with white cabinets—solid doors below with glass fronts on top—a white farmhouse sink, and a large butcher-block island. Cleo walked into a long, narrow mudroom, eyes on the charming blue-and-white patterned tile floor. Then she looked up and gasped. The front of the house had no porch, but the back had a huge covered wooden porch, perfect for entertaining, looking out over fields and hills that she knew would be gorgeous in a month or two.
She stepped onto the back porch, a bittersweet ache building in her chest. Oh, she knew she was the one who’d ended her relationship with Bryce back in high school to date someone who was, in her mother’s words, “inappropriate and irresponsible.” She knew she should be happy with the way things were. When she and Bryce started dating again six months ago, she’d been delighted. Now, though, a tiny part of her wished for more.
“Come see upstairs,” Bryce called.
She shook off her regrets and followed him up the open staircase. There she found three bedrooms and two baths, all open to the rafters with the same white walls, hardwood floors, and stained beams as downstairs. In the master bedroom, the ceiling soared over a king-size bed, giving the room an incredible feeling of peace and freedom. Like the kitchen, the bathrooms looked as if they had been newly renovated—or perhaps entirely redone—with the ideal blend of old farmhouse aesthetic and modern luxury.
Cleo ran her fingertips over the marble counter in the master bath, mentally adding up the cost. Bryce was all excited about the land and the barn, and he probably didn’t even realize the counters were marble. To him, a sink was just a sink, a counter just somewhere to set his toothpaste. Maybe he and the current owners of the house hadn’t discussed the price. Once he knew it, she had a feeling he was going to be disappointed.
“Why the frown?” Bryce said. His voice was low, as if she’d hurt his feelings by not being delighted with the property he’d found.
“It’s a lot of house, Bryce. Maybe too much for one person.”
His chest rose and fell, and he stared at her for a long moment. “Well, I wasn’t thinking of it only for one person.” Nervousness flickered in his eyes. “I was wondering if, when they typed out the deed, it might be good to put it in the names of Bryce and Cleo Parker.” He reached in his back pocket and got down on one knee.
For a second, her lungs stopped functioning. He couldn’t possibly be doing what she thought he was doing.
“Cleo Anderson, will you marry me? Will you live in this house with me and maybe even fill it with the kids you wanted all the way back in high school?” He held out his hand, cupping a wide gold band with a large, sparkling diamond.
She stared down at the ring and then into his hazel eyes, unable to move. Her face felt warm, and tingles burst inside her chest. “Yes! Yes, yes, I will marry you!” She launched herself into his arms and kissed him.
Kiss after kiss after kiss until nothing mattered but Bryce.
Eventually, he drew back and slipped the ring on her finger.
It was too big. “Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know how to get your ring size and still completely surprise you.”
“I’ll put tape on it until I can get it sized down.” There was no way she was taking off such a gorgeous ring for one second more than she had to, but there was a bigger issue with the future he’d described. “Bryce,” she said, “I don’t know if we can afford this place. I’ve got a mortgage on the salon and—”
Bryce laid a finger over her lips. “It’s not as much as you’d think, and I’ve paid off the veterinary clinic. We can use that as collateral.”
Cleo blinked at him. “Okay, then.” Her head felt filled with the fizz of newly opened champagne, but gradually the fizz subsided, and she realized something. “You did this on purpose. You acted like the house was only for you, talking about the barn and buying horses.”
Bryce chuckled. “I did. I wanted to see if you liked it.” He took her hand. “And I sort of thought if I wowed you with the house, you might be more likely to say yes when I proposed.”
“Oh, Bryce.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “You didn’t need the house. I’d live with you anywhere.”
“Even in my current place?”
She winced. The memory of his former girlfriend seemed to linger in every room. They’d never married, but she’d decorated like the place was hers. “Well, anywhere but there. It’s going to take a miracle to get that house un-Darcified.”
“I know. That’s why I’ve been looking around, so we could have a fresh start,” he said. “Also, I sort of thought this place might get you to agree with a wild idea I have.”
“You had a wild idea?” Cleo looked at him. He was the steady, practical one. She was the one who brought spontaneity to their life together.
“How would you feel about signing the papers on the offer for this place, flying to Vegas tonight, and getting married tomorrow, on the anniversary of our first date in high school?”
She let out a squeal and bounced up and down. “I’m in! I’m in! I’m all in!”
“Fantastic!” His eyes gleamed.
“I even got something in the mail about discounted flights,” she said. “I just need to run by my apartment to get my toothbrush and something to wear.” She stopped and stared at him, the full impact of what they were doing finally sinking in. “Something to wear … for our wedding.” For half a second, she thought of Libby and all her stress over finding the perfect wedding dress, but then she shrugged. Any dress was the perfect dress if she was marrying Bryce.
“Are you sure about all this?” He took her hands in his.
“Surer than I’ve ever been about anything in my life,” Cleo said.
“My buddy who’s a lawyer has the paperwork for the offer on the house drawn up. All we need to do is stop by and sign.”
“Let’s do it!” she cried.
“One thing first,” Bryce said.
“What?”
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for saying yes.” He pulled her into his arms, and his lips met hers.
Warmth filled her chest, and her heart pounded. She was marrying the man of her dreams. She’d be living half a mile from her best friend in this gorgeous farmhouse, which would be perfect—once they added at least a little front porch. And, with luck, she and Bryce could fill this house with children.
Life couldn’t get any better!