The Aussie Next Door

by Stefanie London

  Until Jace.

  She loved Jace.

  She loved him because he didn’t accept her excuses. She loved him because he was thoughtful and kind and loyal and always willing to lend a helping hand. She loved him because he was creative and good with dogs and because when he wrapped her up in his arms, she felt like a piece of broken pottery that had been lovingly put back together.

  She loved Jace.

  “The people who live here don’t always have the option to leave and seek out the enrichment they deserve in their lives. Perhaps their best version of themselves is someone who works with their hands every day, who ticks off one more shoot-for-the-moon dream on their bucket list. Maybe they simply want to try a bunch of things to find out what they’re passionate about in life. If we bring these opportunities here, even the people who think it’s okay to do the same thing day in and day out might be tempted to change. To grow into the person they’ve always wanted to become. They just need a helping hand.”

  Like she had needed a helping hand—and Jace had been there, willing to give things a shot. Willing to help her even when it meant facing his own demons.

  Home wasn’t Patterson’s Bluff…home was wherever love was. And that meant wherever Jace was. Wherever the poker ladies were. Wherever Chloe was.

  Home wasn’t the place. It was the people.

  “So how can we help the residents of this home become the people they’ve always wanted to be?” Angie picked up her speaking cards again. “That’s where my plan to harness the expertise and generosity of local businesses comes in…”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jace stared at his inbox. Usually after a new strip was released, he’d get emails…but nothing like this. After the first hundred, he turned off the alert sound because it was upsetting the dogs. But the emails continued to roll in, one after another after another.

  He almost couldn’t believe he’d done it.

  Last night, the idea of Hermit finding his happily ever after must have burrowed into his brain. Because he’d dreamed about it—the final Hermit vs. World strip. The bridge to the mainland was complete, and it seemed as though the mayor had won. But Hermit had woken early so he could be the first one there. He vowed to stand at the end of the bridge every day, with his new canine companion by his side, and he would stop people from coming over to the island.

  So Hermit went to the end of the bridge with a sign that said no entry and a determined look on his face. But when he got there, a woman came to him. Her smile made Hermit stop in his tracks—when she smiled, it was like the whole world turned to color. And when she reached out her hand, Hermit put down his sign and slipped his hand into hers. The final vision was of the two of them walking back across the bridge toward the island, the dog at their feet. It was in full color.

  Only in Jace’s dream, the woman wasn’t a cartoon figure. It was Angie—smiling, beautiful, determined. The woman who’d brought light and hope into his world.

  The second he’d woken up that morning, he’d raced into his studio—skipping his morning surf and breakfast—and the drawing flew out of him as if his hands were possessed. This was it, the way Hermit vs. World had to end. Angie had been right all along: What story was he telling if his character never changed or grew?

  That’s why he’d had so much trouble these last few weeks—because he knew what needed to happen to Hermit, but it was at odds with what he thought he wanted. Stopping the comic now would kill the syndication deal. It would kill his chance to be the next Calvin and Hobbes, the next Peanuts. It would mean having to start from scratch.

  But instead of terrifying him, Jace felt totally and utterly free.

  Hermit had been stifling him for a while, because he was no longer in sync with his misanthropic protagonist. Jace had changed; his desires had changed. Instead of holing himself up in his studio, working quietly and alone, he wanted a life filled with other people—with Angie. And his family. And maybe a dog…or three. Hell, why not four dogs?

  For a moment, he was giddy, and the emails kept coming. Question marks adorned the subject lines…and exclamation points. Some people were furious. Others were sad but saw it as a natural conclusion.

  TRENT: wtf man?? You ended Hermit vs. World??

  Jace laughed. He hadn’t even known that his brother read the comic.

  JACE: It had to be done.

  TRENT: What happens next?

  That was the big question mark hanging over his head. He’d contact the people at the American comic syndication company and politely withdraw from their consideration, but beyond that…

  There was only one thing he cared about.

  Jace pulled the comic up and stared at it. The single colored panel at the end packed a punch. It wasn’t perfect. Jace was not an advanced colorist by any means—since almost all his work was in black and white—but the contrast had exactly the impact he was looking for. The two characters were facing away, so the reader could see the backs of their heads and bodies, and they were holding hands. The little dog had his tail in the air, wagging.

  On the last panel, Jace had used the clouds in the sky to spell out a message: For Angie.

  Because without her, he might have continued down the same path for years—believing he was incapable of change, being stuck and lonely and missing out on all life had to offer.

  He still hadn’t spoken to Angie since she left the flat out back, and each moment had made him more and more miserable. The dogs seemed to sense it, too, because they were hanging around him even more than usual. Tilly had kept vigil by his bedroom door, and he’d found her asleep in that same spot in the morning. He couldn’t imagine what his life would be like when they returned home to Eugenie.

  But even worse, he couldn’t imagine what his life would be like when Angie returned home. The very thought was like a knife to his gut. And he hadn’t known how to reach her, how to tell her that he’d fallen madly and irreparably in love with her. That he wanted to marry her, not only so she could stay in the country but so she could stay with him forever.

  JACE: I don’t know, man. I’m free-falling.

  TRENT: If I was the emotional type, I might shed a tear. Good for you, bro.

  He pocketed his phone and leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. He was free-falling, but it felt…good. Like having everything out in the open was a relief. Only, he shouldn’t be feeling relieved because he’d lost Angie in the process.

  Go to her. Tell her you love her and that you want to do whatever it takes to make it work, but both as the real versions of yourselves.

  Would she give him a chance? He couldn’t worry about that now. All that mattered was getting to Angie and telling her how he felt. How much she meant to him.

  He shoved his chair back so hard it almost toppled over, and just as he was about to go to the front door, a noise shattered the quiet of the house. Bang, bang, bang!

  “Jace Walters, you’d better open up this door right freaking now!” The angry knocks continued. “I saw Truffle in the window and your car is out front, so don’t try to hide from me.”

  At the sound of his name, Truffle slapped his paws up against the window. “Yip, yip, yip!”

  At one point, all the commotion might have sent him ducking for cover, but now it filled his heart with joy. He jogged over to the front door and yanked it open. Angie stood there, eyes wide and hair wild as if she’d raced over on her bike at full speed. Wayward tendrils surrounded her face, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her look more beautiful.

  “You didn’t have to kill him,” she said, poking him in the chest and marching into his house without an invitation.

  “Kill who?”

  “Hermit.” She looked up at him, eyes shimmering.

  “I didn’t kill him.” He frowned. “In fact, I think I did quite the opposite of that.”

  “But you kille
d the comic, Jace. You shouldn’t have done that.” She folded her arms over her chest.

  Oh no. His momentary joy that she’d kept reading Hermit vs. World was squashed by the fear that maybe this was her way of saying that she didn’t love him. That this really was the end.

  “I was coming straight over from my meeting with the retirement home board to tell you that I’d been wrong about everything. And you were right—I haven’t been myself, and maybe I wasn’t intentionally self-sabotaging, but there was a part of me that never believed I could be accepted. So perhaps subconsciously I’d shut myself off from it.”

  She swallowed. Jace wasn’t sure exactly where this conversation was going, and it was a little tough doing it with an audience. Truffle and Tilly watched on, the older dog staring unwaveringly at him as if to say, Don’t you dare screw this up.

  “And then I saw that beautiful last panel.” She dropped her hands by her sides, then knotted them, then dropped them again. “I’d thought that maybe we’re actually perfect for each other. Maybe everything that’s caused us pain is exactly the reason we’ll work. But then you had to go and put Hermit’s death on my shoulders. I can’t handle that kind of responsibility!”

  “Not his death, Angie. His life. I set him free.”

  She sucked in a breath. “But what about the syndication deal? You had so much riding on that. And all the fans, won’t they be mad?”

  Some of his fans were mad. But many understood Jace’s decision and loved the way he’d ended the comic. But ultimately, it didn’t matter what any of them thought.

  “It was time. Hermit was a phase of my life and…I guess I don’t connect with him so much anymore.” The misanthropic character represented who Jace had been in the past—someone frightened of judgment from the outside world. Someone who feared he’d never be accepted because of his autism. “And yes, I’ll be a cliché broke artist for a while, but I have more than one idea in me. Besides, you never know. A book publisher might want to bring Hermit vs. World to a new audience. Or maybe my next idea will be even more successful than this one.”

  “So you didn’t ruin your career?”

  “No, Angie.” He clasped his hands around the tops of her arms to steady her—he knew what it was like to spiral. He knew how important it was to have someone to ground you. “I took a risk, but I couldn’t keep writing about a person who wanted to be alone when…when I don’t want that anymore for myself.”

  Part of him wished he’d had the forethought to write some of this down before now, because that would have made everything a lot simpler. But this was life—there wasn’t always time to prepare. And if he wanted to show Angie how much he loved her, then he would just need to come out with it.

  “Angie, I—”

  “I love you!” she blurted out, and Jace laughed. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the only one in this relationship without a filter.

  “Did you steal my thunder?” he asked, shaking his head. “You totally did. I was about to say it, and then you bust in here and steal the spotlight.”

  She gave him a watery laugh. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

  “Welcome to my world,” he quipped.

  A hopeful smile passed over her lips, and she placed her palms against his chest. “You could always say it back, you know.”

  “I guess I could…” He laughed when she tried to punch him in the arm. “Angie, you’re perfect for me. I don’t know if I can be perfect for you—”

  “You can.”

  “Could you please stop interrupting me, Miss Motormouth? I know you’re used to getting more words out every day, but I’ve got something to say right now.” He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and Angie made a motion of zipping her lips shut. Her eyes were glittery and her cheeks pink, and he knew that he never wanted to go a day without this incredible woman ever again. “But maybe perfect shouldn’t be our goal. Maybe our goal should be real. I want us to be ourselves, to be able to say what we want and to support each other. Because… I love you, too. And the thought of being without you is the most terrifying thing that’s ever entered my head.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to tell me when you want a plain breakfast?” she asked. “Or when you need some alone time, because I promise that I do understand.”

  “I will. And I don’t want you wearing a fake smile all the time because you think if you’re having a bad day or feeling sad that I won’t love you anymore. Because I want a wife, not a…robot.”

  “What if I was a sex robot?” She smile through her tears.

  “As much as I thoroughly enjoy that part of our relationship, it’s not the most important thing. Waking up next to you every day—that’s what I want. Knowing that if you need to lean on me, I can be there for you.”

  “Oh, Jace.” She blinked back tears that had started to gather in her eyes. “I know that now—you’re absolutely the man for me.”

  …

  Angie’s stomach twisted and turned—the day had been full of emotion. Full of a roller coaster–like feeling that had left her head spinning. But being here with Jace, being honest…God, she’d never felt better.

  But there was still one big thing that she needed to address. Because if they were going to make things work between them, then it could never be on unequal footing. Never with anything hanging over them.

  “Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?” He looked so worried, it was like a stab to her gut.

  “I can’t marry you here.” Even though the words sucked the life out of the room and it was like she was dancing along the edge of a cliff face, it was the right way forward. The only way forward for her to show Jace what he meant to her. “I won’t marry you with any shadow of doubt about my intentions. Because I don’t ever want you to wake up and wonder if I cared more about staying than I cared about you.”

  “So you’re still leaving?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Will you come with me?”

  He blinked. Devastation morphing to shock and then shifting into surprise…and wonder. Today, he was letting her see everything he felt. Every emotion like paint splashed across a canvas.

  He trusted her.

  “I can’t be afraid of my past anymore,” she said. “But I want to marry you, and I want it to be for all the right reasons, because home is where love is. I need you to know that I married you for love and not for anything else.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I’ve already thought about places we can go that have amazing beaches for you to get in your morning surf. At the very least, we’ll stay in places that have a pool, because I know how much you love being in the water.” She smiled, hope filling her heart until she wasn’t sure how much goodness she could fit in there. “I will keep our cabinets stocked with plain oatmeal, and you can bring your work with you. I promise to give you as much alone time as you need. Because I really hope that you keep drawing and creating and being you.”

  “You thought about my routine that much?”

  “I know how vital it is for you.” She nodded. “So will you say yes? To travel and marriage and love and making a home no matter where we are. I want to build a life with you here, but we can see the world in the meantime.”

  “Angie Donavon, I will follow you anywhere.” He dipped his head to hers and captured her mouth in a long, searching kiss that was filled with the fizzing excitement of all that lay before them.

  “Does that mean you’re going to bring Hermit back?”

  “No, Hermit told the story he needed to tell. But you know I’ve had this idea in my head for a while about two dogs who love order and routine but who also love going on big adventures.” They both swung their heads to Tilly and Truffle, and they both cocked their heads at the same time as if to say, Who, us?

  “So we’re doing this?” she asked, her hands curled into his shirt and her per
fect body lining up with his. “You and me and the world.”

  “And then we’ll come back, make this our home together. Maybe make a family, too.”

  She pressed into him, coaxing his mouth open with hers and infusing him with all her love. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

  Epilogue

  One and a half years later…

  Angie crept across the floorboards on tiptoes, dodging the one that always squeaked. It was Jace’s birthday, and they’d officially been back in Patterson’s Bluff for two months. Therefore, it was a special day on several levels.

  And, being a special day, Angie had planned the surprise of all surprises. She bit down on her lip to keep an excited squeal from popping out. They’d talked about this day ever since they got married in a sunlit Tuscan villa after leaving Australia for their grand adventure. It had been a perfect afternoon, with their closest friends and Jace’s family.

  And now, that family was going to be expanded by one.

  She pushed open the door to the bedroom where her husband slept peacefully, unaware that he was about to be surprised again. Angie had a habit of doing that to him. First there was the watch she’d bought him in Paris with the words “I’ll always cross the bridge with you” engraved on the back. Then the fact that she’d secretly arranged for his family to meet them in Tuscany for a real wedding, instead of a simple ceremony with the two of them. Then there was the private tour of Universal Studios when they made it to America. There, on home soil, she’d started to conquer her fears.

  And now…this.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” Angie crawled onto the bed and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek. But Jace wasn’t having it. He crushed her down to him with strong arms and coaxed her mouth open.

  “Mm, you taste like coffee.”

  “And you taste like morning breath,” she teased. He didn’t really—somehow Jace managed to avoid most gross guy-related things like bad morning breath and stinky boxers. Which didn’t do much to dissuade Angie from thinking her husband was actually a god and not a man. “Happy birthday, husband of mine.”