Epilogue
Preston
TWO YEARS LATER
What a week. We knew when Jax’s publisher picked the first of November as her book’s pub date in an election year, we would be running ourselves ragged. Now that the week had arrived, we were operating mostly on adrenaline and caffeine. I rushed across Salem from a campaign event ahead of the school board meeting to Toil and Trouble Books, who was playing host to Jax’s launch event.
I looked at my watch and swore, glancing up at the immobile traffic to clear. Halloween was over. Why were there still so many people in town?
“You can just let me out here,” I said to the rideshare driver.
“Whatever you need, sir,” he responded, turning his four-way flashers on.
“Thanks,” I said, sliding out of the car and squeezing between two parked cars to hit the sidewalk. Walking briskly the final few blocks, I stopped outside the store to wipe the sweat gathered there despite the cool New England fall air. After cleaning off the glasses I tried to protest I hadn’t needed, but did make life so much easier, I took a peek inside the window. A huge smile broke out on my face. The store was packed. And Jax thought no one would show up.
I opened the door and showed my ticket to the employee scanning them just inside. Jax tried to insist I didn’t need a ticket. She would put me on a list. Why she thought I wouldn’t take every opportunity to support her opening week numbers was beyond me. That’s my girl, that’s my lady, and I’m proud of that.
Charlotte waved to me from the front row and indicated the empty seat next to her. I weaved through the crowd to embrace my sister-in-law to be.
“Can you believe this crowd?” she squealed, her face expressing pure glee at the book loving community gathered around. “And she thought no one would come.”
“That’s what I said,” I said, laughing. “How’s she doing? Nervous? Did she get my tea delivery?”
Charlotte nodded. “She did. I caught her swooning a little bit when she realized you ordered it ahead. But I’m sure she’d deny it if I called her on it.”
A woman stepped to the front of the store, where all our chairs were oriented and a hush fell over the crowd as it tends to in a group of well-trained adults.
“Welcome to Toil and Trouble and thank you for joining us to celebrate the launch of Ride ’em, Cowgirl by Jax Carter.” She led everyone in a round of applause, a few whoops breaking out among the crowd. “My name is Joanie and I’m the Events Manager here at T her best friend planned the holiday festival in the town where my dad and Margaret now lived. She had Charlotte offer all the indie bookstores in the tri-state area these coupons. Jax and I were going to take advantage of our newfound proximity to check it out—Jax had coordinated with Ridge Reads to do a signing next month.
After reading Jax’s bio, Joanie said, “And without further ado, please welcome Jax Carter!”
The applause and cheers were plentiful as Jax walked around the corner where she had been waiting, waving at the crowd. As she stepped up to the podium, her eyes snagged mine. I mouthed, “I love you,” my chest warming as her smile got even larger before she broke my gaze, turning her attention to the rest of the crowd.
“Wow, there sure are a lot of you here. My fiancé and future sister-in-law will tell you I thought no one was going to show up.” The crowd laughed appropriately.
“But seriously, it means a lot to me that you’re here. As little as two years ago, I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to stand up in front of a crowd and claim my work. While I’m not sure I would recommend to anyone the way my work was exposed,” she paused while a few mutters emitted from those who had followed Jax/June’s career prior to this release. “I won’t regret what it’s done for me in terms of standing up loud and proud, and saying I write romance, and anyone who has a problem with it can go—” Jax paused again.
“Am I allowed to swear up here? It’s my first time,” she asked. Joanie laughed, nodding. Jax continued. “Well, they can go fuck themselves.”
The loudest cheer yet erupted, and I may have contributed a wolf whistle to the cause. Once everyone had simmered down, Jax held up the book, an illustration of two cowgirls in an embrace in front of a scenic background on the cover. The ring of the fourth finger of her left hand caught the light, but the diamond’s reflection dimmed compared to the look of joy on Jax’s face.
“Let’s hear a little bit from these two cowgirls, shall we? I promise, no spoilers. Chapter one, Layla: They say never look a gift horse in the mouth, but what if that horse walks right up to you and neighs in your face?”
From there she was off, the crowd laughing at her witty one-liners and groaning in disappointment when she stopped for the question and answer portion of the evening. She first answered questions Joanie had prepared, before opening things up to the audience. Jax answered questions about the difference between indie and traditional publishing, whether she would continue to write under June Kennedy, and what she had planned next.
“I think we have time for one more question,” Joanie said as she and Jax exchanged what could only be described as a conspiratorial glance. Charlotte’s hand raised beside me, increasing my suspicion they were up to something.
“Yes, you there in the front.” Jax pointed to Charlotte.
“As someone who obviously cares a lot about the local community and supporting local businesses, by choosing to have your launch party at an independent bookstore, do you have any comments about the upcoming Election Day?”
My cheeks warmed and I willed myself to not turn red.
“I do, in fact. If you’re visiting from outside of Salem, you may not know that my fiancé, Preston Brandt, is running for our local state Senate seat in next week’s election. Preston, would you come up here?”
Charlotte led a round of applause that was far more lackluster than any Jax had garnered so far that night.
“Do you have anything you want to say to your future constituents and honored guests?” Jax handed me the microphone, and I took it begrudgingly.
“Hi, I am Preston Brandt, and I am running for the district’s state Senate seat. I’d appreciate your support if you’re voting next week, but this is Jax’s night and I don’t want to take away from it...” I glanced back in her direction and read the command in her gaze only a former Communications Director could give to someone screwing up an opportunity for free facetime with their voters.
“But, after you’ve supported this lovely bookstore and gotten any books signed and pictures taken, if you wanted to stop by and chat, I’ll be over there.” I pointed at a corner that seemed out of the way enough it wouldn’t clog up the flow of traffic, though I was sure no one would take me up on the offer.
“Jax and I moved here almost two years ago because I planned to run for the House of Representatives. While representing the state of Massachusetts in Congress is still a goal of mine, once I got here and began to really know this area and the people in it, I knew I wanted the chance to live in the community I was elected by on a more regular basis first. So again, buy books, so Jax can sign them, and then, if you’re not exhausted and ready to head home, you can see me.”
Jax lead a more enthusiastic round of applause as I walked over to my area. Joanie gave instructions on forming the signing line, and the crowd started to fold up chairs and disperse, some to the cash register, some to browse, and some got right in line to be among the first to chat with the woman of the hour.
Charlotte made her way to me. “Sorry, she asked me to do it.”
I looked at her and shook my head. “You don’t look very sorry.”
“I guess I’m not.” She shrugged. “I want you to win, and I agreed with Jax that you had an opportunity here. This time next year, I’ll officially be a Brandt, you know. I have to support my team.”
“So that means you all decided where to do the wedding?” I asked. Hayden and Charlotte were having a tough time deciding whether they wanted to get married in Holly Ridge or in Washington, DC.
She laughed and shook her head. “Not even a little bit. But we did decide we wanted a wedding in September, so we’ll have to make a decision soon. I know Blaire would take care of a lot of the planning if we did it in Holly Ridge, but Duncan has offered to hire a wedding planner if we do it in DC.”
I snorted. “Of course he has.”
“My Mom and I have a plan to sit down and talk things out over Thanksgiving this year. Maybe I’ll make her decide.” Charlotte tapped her chin, musing over that idea when her eyes caught on something behind me. “But I’m going to go circulate. I am technically here for work. I think you have a few people wanting to take you up on that offer.” She flashed me one more smile before moving into the crowd and striking up a conversation with another book lover.
I turned around and tried my best to hide my shock at the small group that waited for me. “Hi,” I said, sticking my hand out to the man closest to my left. “Preston Brandt, nice to meet you.”
“I’m Billy. My daughter Olivia loves Jax’s books, so we drove in to catch the event. I think sixteen is a bit too young for adult romance books, but she picked up her mom’s collection after her mom passed a few years ago.” He shrugged. “I can’t break that connection—it’s one of the parts of her mom she’s got left, you know?”
I nodded. “I do know. Olivia and Jax will have a lot to chat about. She got her start with her grandma’s collection.”
Billy shot a look at the line, his face brightening with a smile when he found who he was looking for. “She’s there in the purple shirt, with that whole stack of books to be signed. So while she’s waiting, I thought I’d asked you a few more questions about your plans for assisting first-generation college students.”
And with that, we were off. As the store emptied, several more people stopped by to say hello, ask a question, or even wish me luck in the election next week. Charlotte waved from the door, the look on her face saying she didn’t want to interrupt, as she headed out to drive to the next town on her Massachusetts independent bookstore tour.
Eventually the store emptied of everyone but Jax and me and a few employees. They waved us out after Jax finished signing the rest of their stock of her books.
“Have I told you how proud of you I am?” I asked as we left the store, almost ninety minutes after Jax started signing books. We turned to the left, walking toward our car.
“I think only approximately fifty-three times, but I could hear it once more,” she teased, her eyes sparkling in the reflection of the streetlights lining the sidewalk.
“I’m so proud. These people came to see you, they waited in line, wanted to tell you how much your books have meant to them. You’re making a difference in people’s lives, telling stories where people can see themselves reflected. Your grandma would be so proud.”
Jax blinked through her tears. She dedicated this book to her grandma, something that had resonated with a lot of readers online who grew up stealing their grandma’s romance novels off the shelves too.
While Jax was no longer as averse to emotional moments and we talked a lot about our memories of our loved ones we lost, I knew this was a night for celebrating. I tried to pick the mood back up.
“Let’s go home and you can ride me, cowgirl?”
She groaned, wiping her eyes, a grateful smiling crossing her face. “Okay, that’s it. That joke will officially expire at midnight tonight. Release day is over. That was the deal.”
I laughed, throwing my arm around her shoulder, bringing her to my side and laying a kiss on the crown of her head. “Okay, fine. You’re right, I promised.”
She wrapped her arm around my lower back. “And just remember, after next week, you’ll be Mr. State Representative, and I’ll be the concerned constituent you need to assuage.” Jax gave her voice a fake breathy quality, twirling her free hand in her hair.
I laughed. “Did you use an anagram for sausage on purpose? If so, well done.”
Jax took a little bow.
“And c’mon, don’t jinx me. There’s a lot of race left to go,” I continued.
Jax stepped in front of me, her hands on my face.
“You’re right. You haven’t won yet, but I believe in you, and I know everyone sees what I see. A caring man who is dedicated to his principles and will give his all to represent the people who elected him. That’s what they want, not someone who’s doing to take away their rights and smoke cigars down at the good old boys club.”
I let out a breath. “I sure hope so.”
Jax pulled me down for a kiss. After a moment, I broke away. We stood there for a moment, our gazes locked. I counted myself lucky I got stood up in the Capitol Visitors Center that day. The story of how we got here may not be like anyone else’s, but it was perfectly and uniquely ours.
We started walking again, Jax’s arm looped through mine this time.
“So, what else do you see in me?” I asked, my voice light and teasing.
“The type of stallion this cowgirl can’t wait to mount,” she said, drawling in a terrible country accent. We laughed the last few feet to the car. I opened the passenger door for Jax to climb in and navigated to the driver’s side. Starting the car, Jax connected her phone to the audio system.
“I know we haven’t set a date or anything, but I did have a suggestion for our first dance.”
“Yeah, what’s that?” I asked, looking over at her expectantly.
She swiped across her screen a few times, and the opening chords played to a song that never failed to put a smile on my face. Not being able to resist though, I played dumb.
“Why, what’s this song?” I asked, putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the road.
“This is the first song we ever danced to, in your apartment the day I moved in. Oh, if those kids could see us now.” I caught her look over at me in my peripheral vision. “You really didn’t rem—” She paused as she caught the size of my shit-eating grin. She shoved my leg gently. “You remember.”
“Of course I remember. How could I forget the first time I got to dance with the most beautiful girl in the world?”
She laughed, putting her hand back on my leg, but leaving it to rest there this time.
“Take me home, Mr. Brandt.”
“As you wish.”