Jumping in Puddles (28 page)

As Henry stood, Jago grabbed his hand. “You were always more of a father to me than he was,” he said quietly. “We’ll find the right moment to tell Denzel.”

It started to rain again more heavily as Jago and Ellie walked hand in hand up the drive.

“God, there’s so much to do,” he mumbled, looking at the potholes ahead. “Look out for that puddle.”

Instead of walking around it, Ellie jumped into it and splashed them both with muddy water.

“Hey!” Jago protested.

“Too old to walk through a puddle?” Ellie let go of him and jumped in another one with both feet. “Come on. All the way back. I can swim now. No need to worry anymore.”

“You’re crazy.”

Ellie laughed and leaped into a deep hole, spraying water everywhere, then jumped into a smaller one before she turned to look at him. “Jump.”

She carried on up the drive, launching herself from one puddle to another.

“You’ll be soaked,” he called.

“Some people dance in the rain. Others get wet,” she yelled back.

Jago understood what she was showing him. He’d become so preoccupied with Sharwood and what he needed to achieve that he’d lost sight of the chance to have fun on the way. Instead of dwelling on life’s problems, he needed to be open to everything, even if he wanted to avoid it.

“Jump,” Ellie shouted.

And he did.

Epilogue

Ellie stood at the end of the baron’s hall and looked around the room. A few hours ago before the locusts had descended, the room looked magnificent, the tables laid with brilliant white cloths, and the family silver that Jago and Henry had spent hours polishing, tiny fake diamonds sprinkled around each place setting. Ellie had placed vases of red roses all the way down the tables, interspersed with buckets of herbs. Lights twinkled everywhere, bought, begged, and borrowed from every source. Glittering branches hung from the walls and potted plants had been carried in from outside and draped with more lights, turning the room into a magical forest.

Of course, it was now a devastated magical forest because the guests had eaten and drunk their fill and currently gathered outside watching Liz throw her bouquet. Hopefully, the llama would be nowhere near. He’d already eaten Liz’s mother’s hat. An action caught by the film crew. Ellie grinned.

She pinched a flake of chocolate from the remains of the wedding cake made by Diane and Liz, layers of chocolate, lemon, and carrot that Ellie had transformed into an Andes scene complete with llamas made from marzipan and coconut. Liz had cried when she’d seen it. Ellie had a moment’s panic until she realized they were tears of joy.

“I wondered where you’d got to.” Jago came up behind her, slid his arms around her waist, and pressed his mouth against her neck. “Come and watch thousands of pounds go up in smoke.”

Jago took her hand and pulled her through the door to the garden that they’d spent hours reinstating. Liz’s father turned out to be a fireworks importer, and he’d insisted on contributing toward the wedding. He’d also offered to pay for the beds and said the cost wasn’t much more than putting the family up in a hotel. The wedding had cost less than they’d thought.

Ellie leaned back against Jago as they looked up at the exploding rockets, starbursts of bright colors shooting in every direction before they exploded again into shimmering flower heads that blossomed bigger than the moon.

“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Love you more.”

“No, you don’t.” Jago kissed her cheek and hugged her tighter. He slid his hands over her belly and nipped her ear. “Look at Henry and Diane.”

Ellie turned her head and smiled. The couple stood several yards away in exactly the same pose as them. Denzel had been unsurprised to hear Henry was his father. He said he was thrilled but agreed with Jago it was best kept quiet.

Music replaced the bangs of the fireworks, and guests began to dance on the terrace.

“May I have the honor?” Jago asked.

“You know I’m useless,” she grumbled.

Jago swept her into his arms, and they stared into each other’s eyes. Ellie wanted to bury her face in his neck and breathe him in. He looked impossibly handsome.

“Not sure I’m ever going to let you take off that tux,” she said.

“Talking of taking things off—when are you going to remove my tattoo?”

“I like it. It’s cute, and I’m the only one who gets to see it.”

Actually, she’d turned it into a dolphin. He hadn’t noticed yet.

“Just so long as you aren’t having problems taking it off.”

She let him maneuver her around the other couples, most of whom danced in place. Jago was executing a perfect waltz, and Ellie kept stepping on his toes. She was definitely not as light as a faerie.

“I’ve something I need—”

“I’ve something I want—”

They both spoke at the same time. Jago waltzed her down the steps and out into the Italian garden.

“You first,” he said.

“I’m pregnant.”

He fell and took Ellie out with him, twisting at the last minute so she landed on him rather than the other way round.

“But—”

“I know. I was wrong.”

“After today, I was going to say no more weddings, but I think we need to have one more.”

Ellie scrambled to her feet. “Yep, I think Henry’s going to ask Diane pretty soon.”

Jago pushed up to stand at her side.

“Don’t,” Ellie said and put a finger on his lips. “Not now. You have to find the perfect time.”

Jago sighed. “This is the seventh time you’ve stopped me asking. All of them were perfect. Under the moon. Lying in the sun. When we were covered in paint. When we were…making love. Over champagne with the picnic, even though you nearly swallowed the ring. By the sea. Under fireworks. Not because of the baby—oh God. A baby? Is that what you said?”

She laughed.

“A baby, Ellie? Our baby?” He let out a muffled sob. “Oh damn. I really want to ask you now if—”

“No. Wait for the perfect time.”

He hugged her and waltzed her down the gravel paths, into the herb garden, around the orchard, and the first drops of rain began to fall. Jago didn’t falter; he kept dancing, kept smiling. By the time they reached the wilderness garden, the rain was hosing down, and he was still smiling.

When he dropped to his knees in a puddle of muddy water, this time Ellie didn’t stop him. He placed a hand on her stomach and sighed.

“Ellie Norwood, light of my life, there
is
no perfect time, because every moment I spend with you is perfect. Please marry me?”

She pulled him to his feet and wiped the rain off his face.

“Yes,” she said and kissed him.

Loose Id Titles by Barbara Elsborg

Jumping in Puddles

Rocked

* * * *

The TRUEBLOOD Series

The Consolation Prize

Falling for You

Lightning in a Bottle

The Misfits

Fight to Remember

Barbara Elsborg

Barbara Elsborg lives in West Yorkshire in the north of England. She always wanted to be a spy, but having confessed that to everyone without them even resorting to torture, she decided it was not for her. Vulcanology scorched her feet. A morbid fear of sharks put paid to marine biology. So instead, she spent several years successfully selling cyanide.

After dragging up two rotten, ungrateful children and frustrating her sexy, devoted, wonderful husband (who can now stop twisting her arm) she finally has time to conduct an affair with an electrifying plugged-in male, her laptop.

Her books feature quirky heroines and bad boys, and she hopes they are much fun to read as they were to write.

See what’s new with Barbara at
http://www.barbaraelsborg.com
.