Epilogue Wanderlust
EPILOGUE: WANDERLUST
JACK
November, One Year Later
“I can’t believe we had to drive two hours to get to a bookstore,” Aurora said as I pulled into the shopping center parking lot. “ Maybe we just need to open one like Whitney did.”
“I thought Whitney owned a bakery?”
“She does. A bakery filled with books. It’s kind of my wet dream. When we meet up in New York for Rom - Con , Willow and I are going to drive to Rhode Island so we can eat there.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” I said as I craned over and kissed her temple.
Aurora snorted. “ Miss me? You and Drew are going to have a seventy-two-hour bromance. Are you going to braid each other's hair and watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days ?”
“Actually, he’s more of a 27 Dresses kind of guy,” I joked.
Aurora tossed her head back and laughed as she hopped out of the car. The diamond on her hand glinted in the afternoon sun. “ I need to finish packing when we get back.”
She slipped her hand into mine and laced our fingers together. Our wedding rings still had a brand-new shine. It felt foreign to wear one some days, but I loved the constant reminder, especially through the long shifts when it felt like I would never get home to her.
But when I finally made it home, she was there waiting for me with her tender heart and wide arms.
The last year had been packed with chaos, but it was the best kind of mayhem. Aurora split her days between becoming Cedar Island’s favorite waitress and kicking ass in the publishing industry. Instead of business hours, Ernie had a sign on the door listing the hours that Aurora would be there every week. Lucia’s chaotic phone calls—complete with Dump Truck the Dog —were a weekly staple as they moved to publish the Aurora Archer novel and the final book in Aurora’s series, Aurora .
Having the title match a name she had come to love felt so right.
She couldn't stop smiling as we walked across the parking lot of the bookstore to celebrate Publishing Day , which I'd learned was her favorite holiday.
“You’re packing for the honeymoon, right?” she asked as we paused and waited for a car to pass. “ You know you actually have to pack me some clothes. Not just thongs and flip-flops.”
“I won’t be packing any flip-flops,” I said. “ Leave it to me.”
“I don’t think I like the surprise honeymoon thing,” she grumbled.
I grinned. “ I love it.”
Aurora and I had said “ I do” over the summer. But with our packed schedules, the honeymoon had to wait until the fall. That was fine by me. It worked perfectly with my plan.
After today, she would fly to New York for a romance publishing conference with Whitney and Willow , then I would meet her there a few days later to leave for our honeymoon.
“Please,” she whined. “ Just a hint.”
“Nope.”
“But what if my clothes for New York are too warm or too cold for the honeymoon?"
“That’s why I’m packing you a bag and bringing it with me when I fly out. But your clothes for New York should be fine. Not the business-y stuff. But the temperatures.”
“Aha! So it’s somewhere cold!” she exclaimed as she grabbed the handle of the bookstore door.
I playfully swatted her hand away and opened the door for her.
Aurora sucked in a nervous breath.
“Does it ever get old?” I asked as I slid my hand across her back. We had seen the books already. A case of both titles had shown up on our doorstep last month. Still , this was surreal.
Aurora shook her head. “ Never .”
700 Senses of Summer by Aurora Archer was on a display table, front and center, along with Aurora by Wander Whitlock .
A matching publishing day had been the brainchild of Aurora and the editor who had acquired both titles. Even though her Great - Aunt Juniper wasn’t around to see her final book published, Aurora’s family had been over the moon.
Her phone chimed with an incoming text. I peered over her shoulder to see her mom’s smiling selfie as she posed with both books at her local bookstore in Colorado .
Two second cousins and an uncle had done the same throughout the day.
Cedar Island was in a frenzy over it. The realization that Juniper Whitlock had been the prolific legend Aurora Archer , and that my Aurora was famed in her own right, had turned them into local celebrities.
Drew was planning to drive out and get a copy as soon as he got off shift. Ernie had asked Aurora to hook him up with copies to keep at the Fish n’ Fuel . I was certain that the mail truck was going to be weighed down like Santa’s sleigh as it delivered the copies that had been ordered online.
We circled around the table with the books.
Aurora smoothed her fingers over the embossed covers. “ They look so pretty together.” She picked up a copy of each and smiled as I took her picture with them.
We traded, with me holding the books and her being the photographer, so that I could join in the celebration.
Her phone chimed as Whitney texted a smiling selfie with the books from inside her pie shop.
Willow’s smiling selfie text featuring a photo with both books came in next.
Aurora tucked the books in the crook of her arm before grabbing one of Willow’s that she didn’t have yet.
“You’re buying those?” I asked.
Aurora blinked at me like I was an idiot. “ Of course I’m buying them. It’s publishing day.”
“We have twenty copies sitting in boxes at home.”
She grinned. “ Yeah , but I have to buy them from the bookstore. It’s tradition.”
I didn’t argue, just like I didn’t argue when Aurora’s mom showed up for her first visit, driving a rented box truck with Aurora’s things from Colorado .
I had expected clothes. Some furniture. Some household items like pots and pans.
Nope.
It was all books and a few sweatshirts.
The addition to the house that Aurora had initially protested, calling it unnecessary, was actually very necessary.
Our house was ninety percent library, and ten percent living space.
I didn’t mind, though. If she was happy, I was happy.
And we were both really fucking happy these days.
I took the quickly growing haul from her arms, set them on a display table, and pulled her into a hug. “ I’m so proud of you.”
Aurora melted into my arms, sinking into me. “ I’m proud of us. You were there for everything just as much as I was. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Excuse me,” a meek voice said from behind me.
I turned and found one of the booksellers holding a pen.
“Are you Wander Whitlock ?” she asked. Aurora nodded, and the woman beamed. “ I follow you online. Do you have time to sign the books? And could I get a picture for our store newsletter?"
“Of course,” Aurora said, then looked down at the Cedar Island FD hoodie, cuffed jeans, and flip-flops that she was wearing. “ Sorry , these are my fanciest flip-flops.”
But she had never looked more gorgeous to me. There was an unstoppable confidence that radiated from her heart. A drive and determination that superseded all obstacles. A passion for her craft and a love for the community.
I loved her wanderlust and the constant craving for adventure that kept us on our toes.
She loved fiercely, and I was the lucky son of a bitch who got to receive that love.
“Just one hint about where we’re going on the honeymoon,” she begged as she swirled the pen over the title page of a book in the looping WW signature.
“Not a chance,” I said as I picked up one of Whitney’s books from an endcap to read on the flight.
“Please,” she whined.
I chuckled. “ Come on, Roar . Trust me. Live a little. Enjoy the surprise.”
“I hate surprises,” she glowered.
“You loved your surprise birthday party.”
“Yeah, because I didn’t know about it. I know about this.”
“Trust me, baby,” I said, kissing her temple when she had finished signing the last book. “ It’s going to be an adventure.”