Epilogue #2
“Something like that,” I say, laughing.
“Three years together. It feels like yesterday—but also forever?”
I nod. “I’m not sure I even remember my life before you.”
“Afraid you’re stuck with me now.”
Oh, it could be worse. I could be hiking alone.
I start to turn back toward him when I see it. Just below the bluff, tucked into a narrow crevice between the roots of the same tree I once clung to while moaning Rafael’s name. “There’s a book.”
Not just a book, actually. Last First Kiss is the best second-chance romance I’ve read this year. I told Rafael the hero from that book was the only man who would ever top him, and I stand by it.
“What?” He leans forward. “Oh, damn.”
I crouch, but Rafael’s quicker, reaching for it and holding it like it might bite.
“I’ll open it,” he says.
“Why?”
He shrugs. “It could explode.”
I roll my eyes but know better than to argue.
He flips open the book, and his lips twist. “Scarlett,” he reads. “Page seventy-seven, line twelve.”
I step closer as he turns the pages. Together, we count down the lines until we find: in the place she went to every time she needed to unwind.
“The bookstore,” he says without missing a beat.
I blink at him. “Wait… you think this is about me?”
He shrugs. “Want to spread your legs and check if the next clue’s in there? ’Cause that’s where I go when I need to unwind.”
My face heats as I grab the book out of his hands and flip to the first page. The handwriting isn’t familiar, and half the town could guess I spend money at the bookstore any time life mildly inconveniences me.
“So… bookstore?” I say.
He nods. “Bookstore.”
Goddamn it. Hiking again.
I’m practically lifeless by the time we step into the bookstore, my feet dragging behind me. Rafael, still looking as fresh as if he just rolled out of bed, follows me in and exhales.
“Lots of books in here,” he says, glancing around the shop. “How are we supposed to find the right one?”
Good question.
“Scarlett, hi!” Dana calls from behind the counter. “We just got some new arrivals. I set a few aside for you.”
“Did you?” I ask, suddenly reinvigorated. She waves me over and starts pulling out a stack of books. She’s already mid-description of the first one—a historical forbidden romance—when Rafael steps up and kisses the side of my head.
“I’ll take a look around.”
Right. I forgot why we were here.
“Oh, I can—”
“Stay,” he says, smiling, like watching me around books is better than seeing me naked. “Have fun.” Then, to Dana, he adds, holding out his card, “Whatever she’s getting—it’s on me.”
He walks off, and Dana lowers the book.
“Wow, Scarlett. Does he happen to have a brother or something?”
“Sorry. He’s one of a kind.”
She lets out a low whistle. “That I believe.”
We go through the pile, and I’m not even ashamed to say I’m taking all of them home. He offered, didn’t he? And he always does—which is why he had to build me another bookshelf. It’s only polite that I fill it.
After thanking her, I wander back to him. I can already tell from his expression that he hasn’t found anything.
“There’s gotta be another clue, right?” he says, rubbing his jaw. “Something we missed?” When I smile, he smiles back. “Yes, I’m invested now.”
I scan the shelves, my mind spinning.
If this is about me, then the book has to be here. But if this is about me… then why was the first book in his office?
I turn down the aisle, Rafael trailing behind, and stop in front of the romance section.
“This is where we were, right?”
“What?”
“When we read The Love Alibi together? It was…” I look around and tug him closer. “Right here.”
“Okay?”
I turn toward the shelf—and there it is. A copy of The Love Alibi staring back at me.
I pick it up as Rafael mumbles, “Holy shit” beside me. Flipping to the first page, I find my name again. Scarlett. Then: Page 276, line 22.
“Seriously?” Rafael groans. “How many of these are we doing?”
He takes the book, flips through, and reads aloud, “There’s coffee on the counter, and the whiskey’s in the fridge.”
“Hmm… The Oak?” I say. “Maybe it’s a reference to the night we got whiskey and coffee—”
“—and you ended up drinking both.” When I chuckle, he takes my hand. “Worth a try.”
I follow him to the counter, and holding the book out to Dana, he asks me, “How’d you know it would be there? The book?”
“Because I don’t think this is about me,” I say as Dana starts scanning the stack. “I think it’s about us.”
“Us?” Rafael blinks, thoughtful. “Hey, Dana, did anything weird happen around here in the past twenty-four hours?”
“The past twenty-four hours?” I say before Dana can answer.
“It rained on Tuesday. The book at the lookout would’ve been soaked if it had been put there before that.”
Right. God, his brain is so hot.
Dana furrows her brow. “Weird? Not really, no.”
“No break-ins? Shady customers?”
“The most excitement I get in here is Scarlett,” she says with a smile. Then her expression shifts. “Although… Mrs. Brattle came by this morning. She usually only visits on weekends. Looked kind of frantic, said she was late for her post-Pilates gossip.”
“Mrs. Brattle?” I echo. Sure, she knows everything, but I can’t imagine her setting this up. Or hiking all the way up to the lookout with her bad back.
“Thanks, Dana,” I say as Rafael grabs the bag of books with an “Oof.”
We step out of the shop, tuck the books into the trunk of his car, and decide to walk to The Oak. The sun’s high, the air is finally bearable after a long winter, and… God, we haven’t done this in forever, have we?
“It’s good to be out,” I say, sliding my hand into his.
“We’ve been busy, huh? These past few months?”
So busy. Between the podcast taking off and spending weekends helping Paige get her event-planning business off the ground, I haven’t had a second to breathe.
I glance up at him, brows knitting. “Oh my God, are you mad at me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ve been so busy, and… did I put our relationship on the back burner? Are you unhappy? Oh my God, are you break—”
“Whoa, Freckles.” He stops short, gently hooking two fingers under my chin to tip my face toward his. “All I said was ‘We’ve been busy.’ ”
“But you meant I’ve been busy.”
“No, I’ve been pulling late nights, too,” he says, rubbing his hand down my arm.
“But we have lunch together almost every day. I order takeout for you every Friday night. We spend nearly every evening together, and I get to tuck you in when you fall asleep reading on the couch.” He smiles.
“I love your podcast. I love that you help everyone. And I love you. I only ask that you come back home every day and let me squeeze you in my sleep.”
“Deal,” I say—way too fast. On the rare nights he’s away for a case, I can barely sleep. I need him in my bed.
He nudges his nose against mine. “Come on. This prank—or whatever it is—can’t last forever, can it?”
The Oak is just five minutes away, and we’re grateful to slip inside, out of the heat.
The bar smells like wood and warm bread. After Quentin’s arrest the place closed for a bit, but the mayor eventually convinced him to sign over power of attorney. Now Josh runs it, and everyone loves him—mostly because he hasn’t quite figured out proper serving sizes.
“Welcome, welcome!” Josh calls as he darts behind the bar to serve Steve, who gives us a cheery wave. “I’ve got your book—no worries.”
I frown. “You’ve got our what?”
“Your book!” Josh bends, rummaging under the counter before presenting us with a worn paperback. Love, Late Fees, and Other Disasters is printed across the front. “You left it here, didn’t you?”
“I—what? No!” I whirl toward Rafael, who raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t!”
Rafael looks back at Josh. “Did you actually see her drop it off?”
“Well, no,” Josh admits, handing Rafael the book. “But her name’s on the first page, so I set it aside.”
“Thanks, Josh,” Rafael murmurs, already flipping through the pages.
“I don’t get it,” I say, scanning the room as if I’ll see someone recording us or something. “Why is someone taking us on this book hunt? And why these places? Or better yet… what are we supposed to find at the end?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure I get this one.” Rafael turns the book and shows me a highlighted line:
Finally, they’d said it. And it was over—it had to be—but they both knew it just meant they’d have to find each other again.
I remember this scene. Both main characters had ulterior motives when they started dating each other, but they ended up falling in love. The fallout was brutal, written in the most excruciatingly painful way. I loved it.
I shake my head. “I don’t get it either, but I think the next location is the last one.”
“It was over,” he echoes, thoughtful. “You might be right.”
Great. But where? There’s no clear clue this time—the line’s just about feelings.
“A place where… things end?” I say aloud. “Or where you find something again?”
“And it’s about us,” he adds, quietly.
A sudden ache blooms in my chest. I remember those three awful days at the hospital being unsure if Rafael would ever wake up. But I never believed it was over. I was ready to be there forever if I had to be.
“Wait—hold on,” I gasp, locking eyes with his.
I can almost still see the guilt and pain flashing in his eyes when I told him I wished he’d never come back.
I regret it to this day. “They’d finally said it,” I quote, pointing to the line.
“And then it was over. But they had to find each other again.”
“Uh-huh,” he says slowly, still not putting it together.
“It’s the library,” I breathe. “That’s where we told each other the truth. I thought you might’ve been the killer. You were investigating me.”
“And once it all came out, we lost each other—only to find each other again.” His eyes widen with a soft laugh. “Holy shit, Freckles. Are you looking for a job? I could use another PI.”
“Sorry, I’m fully booked.” After stealing a kiss, I tug on his hand. “Come on. We have to go.”