Epilogue
Jax
Only a few months after the trial, I'm sitting at Hooplas with the guys, trying to act casual while my mind races through proposal plans. The ring has been burning a hole in my sock drawer for two weeks, and we close on the house tomorrow.
"You're fidgeting," Hudson observes, taking a pull from his beer. "You only fidget when you're planning something."
"I don't fidget," I protest, immediately stopping my finger-tapping on the table.
"You're literally fidgeting right now," Kane points out. "What's going on?"
Declan leans back in his chair, studying me. "He's got that look. The same one Hudson had before he proposed to Kate."
"And the same one Kane had before Grace," Reid adds, finally looking up from his phone. "Though Kane's was more panicked."
"I was not panicked," Kane protests. "I was appropriately concerned about the logistics."
"You had seventeen backup plans," Eli reminds him. "Including one that involved a flash mob."
"Grace enjoys dancing," Kane mutters defensively.
I take a deep breath. These are my best friends. If I can't tell them, who can I tell? "I'm going to propose to Kendall."
The table erupts. Hudson actually stands up to hug me, Kane orders a round of shots, and Declan laughs.
"Finally!" Declan says. "Do you know how long we've been waiting for this?"
"Literally years," Reid confirms. "I had given up hope you'd ever get your head out of your ass."
"Thanks for the support," I say dryly, but I'm grinning.
"When?" Hudson asks, sitting back down.
"Tomorrow night. After we close on the house but before we move in. I want to do it at our place, you know? Start our life there with this moment."
"Solid plan," Kane approves. "What's the actual proposal plan?"
"That's where I need help," I admit. "How did you guys do it?"
Hudson grins. "I proposed at the lighthouse at sunset. Had Kate's favorite flowers everywhere, her grandmother's ring reset. She cried. I cried. It was perfect."
"I proposed in the car on the way to the hospital," Kane says, and we all turn to stare at him.
"The hospital?" Eli asks, incredulous.
"Grace was in labor," Kane explains. "Emma decided to come three weeks early. Grace was between contractions, screaming at me that this was all my fault, and I just blurted out 'Marry me!' She said yes, then called me an idiot, then had another contraction."
"That's the least romantic thing I've ever heard," Reid says.
"Grace loved it," Kane defends. "She said it was perfectly us—chaotic and unexpected but real."
"What about you, Declan?" I ask.
"One evening at dinner," he says. "Nicholas helped. He'd been calling me 'Dad' for months already, so I had him ask Riley if I could be his dad officially. When she said yes, I got down on one knee."
"That's actually sweet," I admit.
"Don't let it get out," Declan warns. "I have a reputation to maintain."
"What about you, Eli?" Hudson asks. "Any proposal plans we should know about?"
"I'm single," Eli reminds us. "Happily forever single."
"For now," Reid mutters, and Eli throws a peanut at him.
"So, what's your plan?" Hudson asks me. "Please tell me it's better than proposing during labor."
"Hey!" Kane protests.
I pull out my phone and show them a picture. "I'm getting a puppy."
They all lean in to look. It's a golden retriever puppy, eight weeks old, absolutely adorable.
"You're proposing with a dog?" Reid asks.
"The ring will be on the collar," I explain. "I'm setting up dinner in the backyard of the new house. Lights in the oak tree, her favorite meal from that Italian place she loves, music. Then the puppy comes out with the ring."
"That's either brilliant or insane," Hudson says.
"Why not both?" I reply.
"What if the puppy eats the ring?" Kane asks, because of course he does.
"The ring will be in a secure box attached to the collar," I say. "I've thought this through."
"What if the puppy runs away?" Declan adds.
"It's a fenced yard."
"What if it rains?" Reid joins in.
"I have a tent on standby."
"What if she's allergic to dogs?" Eli asks.
"She's not. She had a golden retriever growing up. She's mentioned wanting one a hundred times."
They all exchange looks.
"This might actually work," Hudson admits.
"It's definitely better than the flash mob idea," Kane agrees.
"Everything's better than the flash mob idea," Declan says.
"One more question," Reid says. "What's the puppy's name?"
I grin. "That's for Kendall to decide. But I'm voting for anything except Gertie."
They all laugh, remembering the chaos of the therapy goat.
"To Jax," Hudson raises his beer. "May your proposal involve zero goats and one yes."
"To second chances," Kane adds.
"To not screwing it up this time," Declan contributes.
"To the puppy not eating the ring," Reid finishes.
We drink, and I feel the nerves settle slightly. These idiots have all been through this and survived. I can do this.
The next day, everything almost falls apart before it begins. The closing gets delayed because of a paperwork issue, and we don't get the keys until four PM instead of noon. That gives me exactly three hours to set everything up before Kendall gets there at seven.
Hudson and Kane show up to help, because that's what brothers do.
"Where do the lights go?" Hudson asks, holding a box of string lights.
"Everywhere," I say. "The tree, the porch, around the dinner area. I want it to look magical."
"On it," Kane says, grabbing a ladder.
While they handle the lights, I set up the table Declan dropped off earlier. White tablecloth, her grandmother's china I secretly borrowed from our apartment, candles in hurricane lamps so the wind won't blow them out.
"Flowers are here!" Kate calls out, arriving with three bouquets of peonies—Kendall's favorites.
"You're a lifesaver," I tell her.
"I also brought backup food in case something happens to the Italian," she says, holding up containers. "And Grace is on puppy pickup duty."
"The puppy!" I check my phone. "She should be here soon."
As if on cue, Grace arrives with a wiggling bundle of golden fur.
"One ring-bearing puppy, as requested," she announces, setting the puppy down.
The puppy immediately runs to the newly planted flowers and starts digging.
"No!" I lunge for the dog, scooping it up. "Not the flowers!"
"Maybe keep him inside until the actual moment?" Kate suggests.
"Her," I correct. "It's a girl."
"She's adorable," Grace says, scratching the puppy's ears. "Kendall's going to die."
"Hopefully in a good way," I mutter.
My phone buzzes. A text from Kendall.
Kendall: Leaving work now! Can't wait to see our house!
"Twenty minutes," I announce. "Everyone out except the puppy."
"You good?" Hudson asks, finishing with the lights.
I look around the backyard. The lights twinkle in the approaching dusk, the table is set perfectly; the food is staying warm in containers, and somewhere in the house, there's a puppy with a ring box attached to her collar.
"I'm good," I say, though my hands are shaking slightly.
"You've got this," Kane says, clapping me on the shoulder. "She loves you. She bought a house with you. The yes is guaranteed."
"Nothing's guaranteed," I say.
"Her yes is," Kate says firmly. "Trust me. She's been doodling 'Mrs. Masterson' in her planner for weeks."
"Really?" I ask, hope flooding through me.
"Would I lie about that?"
They file out, leaving me alone with the puppy and my nerves. I do a last check—ring secured to collar, puppy reasonably calm, dinner warm, lights working, music queued on my phone.
I hear Kendall's car pull up, and my heart rate triples.
"Okay, puppy," I say to the golden retriever. "Don't mess this up for us."
She wags her tail and tries to eat my shoelace as I hide her in one of the spare bedrooms.
"Jax?" Kendall calls from the front door. "Are you here?"
"Backyard!" I call back.
I hear her footsteps through the house, the pause when she sees the lights through the window.
"What's all this?" she asks, stepping onto the back porch.
She's still in her work clothes—pencil skirt and blouse—but her hair is coming loose from its ponytail, and she looks beautiful.
"Dinner," I say. "To celebrate our house."
"Jax, this is gorgeous," she says, taking in the lights, the flowers, the set table. "When did you do all this?"
"I had help," I admit. "Hudson and Kane did the lights."
She walks down the porch steps, turning in a slow circle to take it all in. "It's perfect. It's like a fairy tale."
"Are you hungry?" I ask. "I got Italian from that place you love."
"In a minute," she says, wrapping her arms around me. "I just want to enjoy this. Our house. Our yard. Our tree with the lights."
"Our life," I add, holding her close.
"Our life," she agrees, and I know this is the moment.
"Actually," I say, pulling back slightly, "there's something else."
"More surprises?" she asks, smiling. "Jax, this is already—"
A bark interrupts her. The puppy, tired of waiting inside, has pushed through the door I apparently didn't latch properly.
"Oh my god," Kendall breathes as the golden retriever bounds toward us. "Whose dog—"
She stops mid-sentence, seeing the box on the collar. Her hands fly to her mouth.
"Jax," she whispers.
I drop to one knee as the puppy reaches us, tail wagging furiously. With shaking hands, I unhook the box from the collar and open it, revealing the ring I've been hiding for weeks—a vintage setting with a center stone that catches the light from all the strings above us.
"Kendall," I start, my voice not quite steady. "Ten years ago, I made the worst mistake of my life when I left you. I've regretted it every day since. But maybe we needed that time to become who we are now—people who know what we want and aren't afraid to fight for it."
She's crying already, the puppy jumping at her legs.
"You've taught me that rules are meant to be broken when love is on the line," I continue. "That home isn't a place but a person. That second chances are precious and shouldn't be wasted."
"Jax," she whispers again.