Page 82 of A Castle in the Sky: Fern & Connor
She closed her eyes and let him kiss the corner of her smile as Coral ran up to show them what she had built.
Chapter 36
Four months later, Connor lingered at the doorway, as if unwilling to let Fern go. He could barely keep his eyes off her. Half the time his hand was on her hip, drifting in unconscious circles. The rest of the time, he was brushing a kiss to her cheek, or letting his palm skim the curve of her breast as he reached past her for a cupboard. Always touching, always tugged toward her like the gravity between them was stronger now. He had become a little needy in these months—cuddly, possessive, pulling her into his chest at night and refusing to let her roll away even an inch. She would tease him about being clingy while enjoying all the attention.
Coral had blossomed like a flower waking from winter. She had won the story telling contest at school. And while she still chose her words carefully, preferring listening to talking, the speech therapy team had discharged her with a smile. There was barely a scar on the back of her hand but sometimes, Fern caught Connor smoothing a careful finger over it. Every night, she curled against Connor's side with his arm pillowing her head as he read to her—sometimes two stories, sometimes three, always with 'funny' voices. She was a daddy's girl through and through, and Fern could not begrudge it.
Harlan was away that weekend, taking a longer run he hadn't attempted in years. Something was blooming between him and Gracie, but Fern didn't pry.
Some things needed time.
Connor had his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, keys in one hand, Fern's waist in the other. When he leaned in for a final kiss, Fern shoved him gently toward the threshold.
"Connor, you're going to miss your train."
"One more," he murmured, dipping in again.
She laughed, pushing at his chest. "You said that three kisses ago—now go!"
"Fine, but—"
"Daaaaa," Coral groaned dramatically from behind Fern, dragging her hands over her eyes. "Stop putting your tongue in Mum's mouth.Yuck."
Fern giggled while Connor pretended to look wounded. "You wound me, poppet."
"You're too much," Coral declared, rolling her eyes. It was a new thing that she and Maisie did. They were just learning to time it right.
Connor bent and kissed the top of her head. "I'll be back before lunch tomorrow. Lock up after dark."
"We will," Fern promised.
He kissed Fern once more—quick and hungry, with his hand on her arse—and finally stepped out. She locked the door, still smiling as Coral skipped toward the stairs, humming something she'd learned in a school assembly that week.
With Connor gone, Fern turned back to the mountain of tasks ahead— boxes to be unpacked, loose screws to be sorted, and half-assembled furniture. The living room looked like a battlefield of cardboard and instruction leaflets.
Fern sighed, hands on her hips. "Right," she muttered. "Let's tackle the wardrobe before it grows legs and starts walking around."
Coral peered into the giant cardboard box looming in the hallway. "Is it a monster?"
"Yes," Fern said. "A monster wardrobe. And we are brave warriors."
Coral grinned and drew an imaginary sword. "I'm the bravest. Da say so."
Fern felt a warm tug at her chest. "Da says many things."
Coral nodded solemnly. "Some of them are silly."
"Most of them," Fern corrected.
They got to work, or at leastFerndid—reassembling the flatpack wardrobe piece by piece. Connor had promised he'd do the heavy lifting once he returned, and Fern's job was to sort screws from dowels, planks from panels, and try not to swear in front of her daughter. That was Connor's job when he dropped something on his toe.
Coral sat cross-legged on the carpet, handing Fern the pieces she asked for.
"Mummy," she said suddenly, "why does Daddy look at you like that?"
Fern paused. "Like what?"
Coral scrunched her nose. "Like... like you're shiny."
