Epilogue
HEAD-TO-HEAD COMPETITION
Veronica
A Year Later
Milo rushes to the door, finger-combing his hair. He’s going to be so late for work. But that’s the risk with morning sex, and I have no regrets.
Sometimes you get carried away when you wake up next to an inked, bearded babe who loves you madly.
I help him along by hooking Trudy to a leash and handing him the strap.
He flashes a dirty grin as he takes the leash. “Is it obvious I just got some?”
I raise a brow. “You want it to be obvious for all your employees?”
“Hmm. Good point. I should be professional,” he says, intensely serious. “Especially since it’s National Solo Flight Day.”
The chalkboard outside his shop will greet customers with the words: Love Yourself a Lily More Today .
“And Felix already texted me and said the online orders are ticking up for lilies,” I say. Felix is the new flower shop manager. My mom recommended him. He trained at her garden shop in Connecticut and wanted to move into the city, so the florist job was a perfect fit. Plus, Mom enjoyed matchmaking—she loves Felix, and she loves Milo, and she wanted to help.
How could she not love my boyfriend? He won her heart when I introduced them nearly a year ago at a dinner in the city at my favorite sandwich shop. He won Hazel’s heart too. And Ellie’s. That’s his style. He’s outgoing and clever, and he likes people.
Good thing I do too.
I also enjoy people-watching, especially when it involves my sister and a certain friend of Milo’s.
One night, when Bryan comes back to town for part of the summer, my boyfriend and I gather the crew at the arcade, then split into teams at the Skee-Ball machines. Drew says he can handle the game solo and it’s only fair to the rest of us since no matter what team he was on, he’d win. Probably true with that arm of his. Ellie grabs Bryan for her team, saying she needs to catch up with him. I go with my guy, which leaves my sister scowling at the tall, broody, blue-eyed Axel Huxley, who’s even broodier in that leather jacket, leaning against the wall by the last Skee-Ball machine, looking dangerous and smart.
“I can play solo too,” Hazel insists, all tough girl.
“It’s your special skill,” Axel grumbles.
“Are you sure about that? I’d say it’s yours, Huxley,” Hazel retorts.
The thriller writer unleashes a killer grin. “Your memory might need some work, Valentine.”
In slow motion, I turn my wide-eyed gaze to Ellie, silently asking, Did you hear that ?
She nods big and long. Yes, I did , she mouths.
“You have a lot of senses that need a tune-up,” Hazel says. “Shall I list them?”
Fear flashes in Axel’s eyes, but then he shrugs it off. “Maybe save it for the next book, sweetheart.”
She doubles down by crossing her arms. “Aww, it still hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Ouch, does someone need some aloe?” Milo cuts in, then gently slides me in the direction of my sister. “Valentine ladies can play together. I’ll take my lawyer .”
Milo teams up with his friend, but all through the game, I catch Axel staring at my sister, and I don’t think that’s anger in his eyes.
More like red-hot lust.
When we finish the round—with Drew winning and the Valentines coming in second—my sister marches over to Axel.
Hazel
This man. I have never known a creature, real or fictional, to inflame me so much. I tap Axel on the shoulder. “We need to talk.”
He arches a cocky brow because of course his eyebrows are cocky. Every single body part is, I bet.
“Sweetheart, I’m not sure you can talk,” he drawls. “You just want to argue.”
“Like you don’t,” I hiss.
“I can be civil. Want me to show you?”
“I can be civil too,” I whisper, but I won’t if I stay here with him while he winds me up in front of everyone. That’s what he does. Pushes all my buttons.
Grabbing his arm — his too-strong, too muscular arm, damn him — I march him into the game room. I stop at an ACDC pinball machine, then wheel around and meet his eyes. He returns my stare with a smirk. A fucking smirk.
Why is he like this? Can’t he just get over what happened? I take a deep breath, try to let it settle me. “Look, Huxley. I don’t like this any more than you do.”
“Like what?” He asks, feigning innocence.
I sigh, aggrieved. Then point from him to me, then out to them . “The fact that you and I have to hang out because my sister’s in love with your friend, who, by the way is an amazing guy.”
“He is. Milo’s good people,” Axel says warmly.
That’s why I have to try to bury the hatchet. But it’s big and it’s thick. “If it were up to me, we’d never see each other again, but clearly we have to. So, we need to find a way to get along,” I say diplomatically.
His lips twitch. “You really want that?”
No. But I don’t want my latent irritation over every single thing that went wrong when we tried to work together to send me over the edge. “Yes. Can we just please put the past behind us?”
He hums, like he’s considering it. “So, you truly want to get along, Valentine?”
I burn inside. When his bedroom eyes roam up and down my body, I burn hot.
Hotter still when he steps closer to me.
“I do want to,” I say, breath catching dangerously, pulse surging.
“Then I have some good ideas,” he says, and the way I react to his smoky voice is entirely unfair.
Must. Resist. At. All. Costs.
Veronica
With Hazel off in the game room, I spin around and head straight for Ellie and Bryan at the bar.
“So, that’s what he said,” Bryan remarks as I near them.
Ellie slugs his shoulder playfully. “And then? What did you say?” She’s on the edge of her seat.
Bryan takes his time answering, giving a half smile, maybe a little resigned. “Well, it’s complicated.”
They stop talking when I arrive. I tilt my head, like c’mon. “It was just getting good. Are you freezing me out?”
Bryan laughs, then shakes his head. “No. It’s just that it’s really complicated.”
I grab a stool and park my chin in my hand. “I’m listening.”
“So, Sebastian Lowe hired my company . . .”
As Bryan unravels more of the story, my breath hitches.
“Complicated barely scratches the surface,” I say, a little amazed and pretty damn intrigued to hear how their story plays out.
“Maybe you could write the rest of it, Ellie,” Bryan offers.
Ellie’s ventured down the scriptwriting path after all, trying her hand at writing TV shows. Future-proofing against the inevitable , she says. At Bryan’s suggestion, her eyes spark. “Not a bad idea. Thanks so much for giving me the rights in advance to your sexy tale,” she says, adding a wink.
“Did I say it was sexy?” Bryan smiles.
Ellie laughs. “No. I figured that part out on my own.”
Milo’s brother just smiles, then turns the tables on her. “And what about you and your guy?”
Ellie sighs, a little wistful. As she updates him, I listen, grateful my love life isn’t complicated anymore.
It’s simply wonderful.
One morning, a little later that summer, I settle in at the table. I work from home, with my dog and my cat, and I don’t usually wear any pants.
This is the life—writing my column and putting together orders for Date Night for One, curating a delicious box of treats for the ladies who want a little help from a battery-operated friend.
Business is thriving, and I don’t miss publishing. Pleasure is where my heart lies.
But it also lies with my man and our dogs.
When I finish working in the evening, I put on a sundress, say goodbye to the cat, and leash up StudMuffin. After I head down the stairs, I grab my custom bike from the storage closet in our building—Milo moved in with me months ago.
Then I wheel my ride to the sidewalk and set my dog in the tiny bike seat Milo built for him. StudMuffin used to hate bikes, but living with a bike lover has turned him around. Well, my little man doesn’t love bikes per se. But he sure does love riding in the front and checking out the city as we go. When my blond babe is buckled in, I strap on his little helmet, then kiss his wet nose.
After I clip on my own helmet, I zip across town to meet my boyfriend for a picnic in Gramercy Square Park.
It’s a gated park, but Milo has a friend with a key, so he waits for me outside, on his bike, with his pooch in her seat. We lock up the bikes, then bring our dogs into the park.
We grab a bench and dive into the picnic dinner Milo brought along as the pups sit at our feet.
“So I had this one customer today who asked for a recommendation for something extra strong , and then said, And Veronica will know what I mean ,” Milo tells me. “You’re basically famous there. It’s Bikes, Blooms, and Buzz.”
“And I’m sure I have just the thing for her,” I say with a smile. “You’ll give me her info?”
“I always do,” he says, then he snaps his fingers. “Oh, and there’s one more thing I forgot to tell you.”
I meet his gaze again, curious. “What is it?”
“Actually, it’s something I wanted to ask you,” he corrects, then slides off the bench, and in one fluid move, he’s dropped down to one knee.
I gasp, my hand flying to my mouth as he reaches for my other hand.
“Veronica Valentine, I thought the day you walked into that cake shop was the best day of my life. Then, the day your dog attacked my bike was an even better day. And then the next day became the best when we talked on the street. And every single day we spend together is better than the last,” he says, and my heart thumps wildly in my chest. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a blue velvet box. “I’m so glad we kept crashing into each other’s world and so thrilled our timing was a hot mess, because when we finally came together, I knew . You were the one for me . I want to keep having the best days with you because you’re the greatest part of my life. And I love you madly.”
As he takes a beat, a tear slides down one of my cheeks, then the other.
He leans in, kisses them gently away, then meets my gaze once more. “Will you be Mrs. Sexy Pants?”
And I smile and cry as I throw my arms around him. “That’s the most perfect proposal ever,” I say, then he slides a sapphire solitaire on my finger.
I gaze at it in joyful wonder. I love that it’s unique, like him, and like us.
I truly have the best guy in the world.
I kiss him once more as my dog licks my hand and his dog kisses his cheek.
Fine, we have the best dogs too.