Epilogue
One year later
Savannah picked up a first edition of Spurred and Spanked and placed it on the display ledge right next to Amy’s newest book, Forever Outlasted.
She’d done the book critique after all, which had promptly caused half her followers to lose their minds in her comment section while the other half praised her for remaining so ruthlessly impartial, especially considering the author was her fiancée.
“I can sign that for you if you’d like.” Amy’s voice danced from across the sun-drenched living room. “If you ask me really nicely, I might even write, To my biggest fan and my favorite muse.”
Savannah glanced back just in time to see Amy weave past the shamrock-green occasional chairs to set a vase overflowing with leggy yellow black-eyed Susans on the coffee table. She was wearing an oversized button-down and nothing else.
“You know, you didn’t have to be so critical about the velvet saddle scene in chapter fourteen. It’s completely anatomically possible,” she said, sliding up behind her. She rested her chin on Savannah’s shoulder and curled her arms snug around Savannah’s waist.
“Is it, though?” Savannah asked, tilting her head back just enough to press her jaw into the curve of Amy’s neck.
“Because unless both Lee and Chrissy are professional contortionists and they have no hip joints, one of them should’ve ended up in the emergency room.
” She turned into Amy’s arms and flicked a blonde curl out of Amy’s eyes.
“It’s completely unbelievable and unrealistic. ”
“How about we go upstairs, and I show you?” Amy asked, then she kissed just west of Savannah’s lips while her hands moved down. And down. She gave Savannah’s butt a squeeze. “We might need to place a quick order, though. There’s no way we can pull it off without a real horse saddle.”
Savannah laughed so hard her voice carried through the open glass sliders and right out over the shimmering blue water.
“I love your laugh,” Amy said, reaching for Savannah’s hand.
Then she spun the two of them around the living room while “If I Say Please” played from a small Bluetooth speaker standing atop a moving box labeled Amy’s Sentimental Things Handle With Care.
“It still feels unreal that I get to listen to you say please forever.”
“You should use that line in your new book,” Savannah said. “Your fans will go—”
Suddenly, there was a loud bang that sounded like the back door thwacking shut. Then footsteps clapped against the hardwood floor, and a second later, none other than Luna’s head popped through the doorway, followed by her body, dressed in all black.
“When Kate told me we got new neighbors, I thought she was talking about the Lindells. They’ve had their eye on their aunt Marge’s house for years.
” She came to a standstill beside a tower of half-unpacked U-Haul boxes and shook her head.
Her dark bob flapped around her head. “Never... ever... did I think the two of you were moving in next door.”
Amy chuckled, her grip loosening on Savannah’s waist. “Why not?” she asked. “You’ve been spamming my inbox with Sylvan Lake listings for the last five months.”
A breeze sweeping in from the open doors leading out onto a deck lifted Luna’s bangs right off her forehead.
“Well, yes, but I didn’t think you’d actually buy Sylvan’s architectural crown jewel.
Do you know how many people have tried to buy this place?
” Her gaze drifted upward toward Douglas fir timber beams crisscrossing against the ceiling.
“Let’s just say Aunt Marge is a fan of Amy’s work,” Savannah said, remembering how the elderly lady’s face had brightened when Amy had mentioned Outlasting Love. “And mine,” Savannah added. “She particularly liked my critique of one of your books.”
“Which one?” Luna shot.
But Savannah didn’t get a chance to reply because there were more footsteps.
Before Savannah could ask why the door hadn’t been locked—nobody locked their doors on Sylvan Lake—Kate appeared, then her wife, Nickie.
Then Wyn waltzed into the room with a completely intact ankle and her lovely wife, Quin.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Wyn said, folding her arms over her chest. “I thought Kate was pulling my leg.”
Quin rolled her eyes. Savannah had met Quin during the Outlast Her Reunion episode three months ago. “Ignore her,” Quin said. “She’s actually baked you guys brown sugar and blackberry thyme muffins. We left the tray on your kitchen counter.”
“Thank you,” Savannah and Amy said at the same time.
Then Nickie chimed in. “We have mandatory Sunday mimosas, and every other Tuesday we have a game night. The kids usually go to their grandparents, so there are plenty of drinks.”
“We don’t play any games,” Kate admitted, leaning against the buttery leather sofa Amy had convinced Savannah they desperately needed. “We basically just drink and talk.”
“It’s our turn this week,” Quin said as she slung her arm around Wyn’s shoulder. “And since it’s your first time, you don’t have to bring anything.”
Savannah didn’t know what to say. In the ten years she’d lived in her New York apartment, she’d barely exchanged a dozen words with her neighbors. This level of welcome was overwhelming.
Kate must have sensed it because she pushed herself away from the sofa and tugged at Luna’s arm just as she was about to plop down into the cushions. “Come on, everyone, let’s leave these two lovebirds alone. I’m sure they’ve got a lot of unpacking to do.”
“Yes, please,” Amy said, slinging an arm around Savannah’s waist. “We’d like to christen every room in the house.”
“Ugh!” Luna grimaced. “TMI.” Then she winked over her shoulder.
Five seconds later, the back door clicked shut. The only sounds in the air were the soft lap of lake water against the shore and the rustle of a warm breeze through the pines outside. This house, this lake, was the definition of relaxing.
“So, how often did we say we’re visiting the lake?” Savannah asked, resting her forearms on Amy’s shoulders. “We can’t completely abandon our New York apartment.”
“Only as often as I need to write,” Amy replied.
“So, basically, every day.”
Amy laughed and pulled Savannah closer. “Hey, Barnaby loves it.” They both turned toward the orange tabby stretched out in the strip of afternoon sun warming the wide pine floorboards. “And besides, the view is perfect for your book critiques. You might get a whole new set of followers.”
Savannah laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around Amy’s waist. “I don’t care about the followers. As long as I get to sleep with the author.”
“Well, you’ve got me forever, baby.” Then Amy cupped Savannah’s chin. “Now should we have sex on the butcher block in the kitchen, or on the top step of the oak staircase next?”