Epilogue
~ Jasper ~
Five years later…
“Mr. Shaw, where is my sweater?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Shaw,” Beckett called back from the living room.
“Where did you see it last?”
We had married three years ago in a quiet, intimate ceremony with only his parents in attendance, and I still went weak in the knees every time he called me Mr. Shaw.
Pausing in the bedroom doorway, I rested my hands against the frame and frowned at my dear husband.
“You were supposed to wash it.”
“I did.” He froze in the middle of straightening the pillows on the sofa and looked up at me.
“Oh shit, it’s still in the washer. My bad.”
“Beckett!”
“Calm down.” He held his hands up in supplication, a sexy smile on his lips.
“It’ll be okay. Besides, it’s really ugly.”
“That’s the whole point! It’s an ugly Christmas sweater party.”
It had become something of a tradition at the center over the last few years.
We even hosted an event the week before for the kids to decorate their own sweaters, with prizes for the most outrageous designs given out the night of the party.
Everyone looked forward to it, and now I’d be showing up without a crucial piece of my wardrobe.
“Can’t you just wear the one from last year?”
It was like he didn’t even know me.
Huffing dramatically, I spun around and marched back into the bedroom.
Beckett followed seconds later, just like I had known he would.
“So…is that a no?”
“No, my love, I cannot just wear the one from last year,” I countered in the most obnoxious voice I could muster.
“The kids would think I’m not taking this seriously.”
“Is it supposed to be serious?”
“Ugh!” I threw my hands in the air and flopped face first onto the bed.
The mattress dipped next to me, and a wall of muscle and warmth pressed against my side.
“Jazz, your speech is going to be amazing.” As he spoke, he stroked my hair, combing his fingers through the curls.
“You’ve been practicing it for weeks.”
Of course he had realized this wasn’t actually about the sweater.
He always saw right through me.
“What if it’s not amazing?” I asked, my voice muffled against the comforter.
“Babe, it will be. And if it’s not, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Everyone laughs at me, and I have to move to North Dakota.”
And yes, I knew I was being dramatic, but that didn’t negate the real worry.
It had been almost fifteen years since I had opened the doors of Project SafeHouse, and in all that time, I had never given a speech on behalf of the center.
I always left that kind of stuff to my amazing director.
Why the hell had I let Beckett talk me into this?
“You would never survive winter in North Dakota.”
My husband.
Always practical.
Groaning, I rolled onto my side so I could face him.
“I’m having a crisis here.”
“I can see that.”
Damn, I loved that smile.
That cocky little curve of his lips that said he knew exactly what he’d gotten himself into by choosing me, and he still stood by his decision.
“Be helpful.”
“Okay, okay.” He laughed as he leaned in to kiss the tip of my nose.
“What are you really worried about?”
“That I get up there, panic, and forget everything I’m supposed to say.”
“You’ll have notecards. What else?”
“What if I get nervous and say something stupid?”
He arched an eyebrow.
“Such as?”
“I don’t know. I can’t be stupid on command.”
His lips pressed into a thin line, and his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
I didn’t really see what was so funny.
“Listen to me,” he said when he’d composed himself.
“You are going to be amazing. You’re prepared.” He cradled my cheek and bent his neck to rest our foreheads together.
“And if you screw up, you shake it off, keep going, and when we get home, I’ll make you forget all about it.”
I sighed and arched my neck, bringing our lips together in a slow, grateful kiss.
After all this time, he still knew exactly what to say to calm my fears.
“Thanks for putting up with me.”
“It’s kind of my specialty, and I take my job very seriously.” Then he shoved me onto my back and rolled on top of me, pinning me to the bed as he tickled my ribs mercilessly.
“Say it.”
“No!” I yelled between bursts of high-pitched laughter.
“It’s dumb!”
“I’m not going to stop until you say it.”
“Okay!” I screeched, writhing beneath him.
“I don’t have to be perfect,” I forced out through gasping breaths.
“I just have to be real.”
The torment stopped, but he didn’t move off me.
Straddling my hips, he hovered over me, his smile broad and triumphant.
“Damn right.”
“You are an idiot,” I panted.
“But I love you.”
“Aww, you say the nicest things.” He lowered over me to capture my lips in a hard, bruising kiss.
“I love you, too. Now get up, get dressed, and go crush that speech.”
My one-man hype team.
I honestly had no idea what I’d do without him.
His specific brand of pep talk hadn’t eased any of the nervousness I felt, but it did give me the courage to keep going anyway.
So, I did exactly what he suggested.
Well, minus the speech crushing.
That part was still to be determined.
But I did drag myself off the bed, shower, and dress in a pair of faded jeans and my ugly sweater from the previous Christmas.
No one at the party noticed.
“Cool sweater, Mr. S!”
“Not bad yourself, Mr. Sherman.”
Seventeen now, Caleb had grown from a timid, underweight child into the star forward of the varsity basketball team.
While it had been a long, stressful process, his adoption had been finalized the previous year, and he loved when people called him by his new last name.
“Thanks, Sean helped me make it.”
I perked up, glancing around the room.
“Is he here?”
A goofy grin spread over Caleb’s face, and a tinge of pink entered his cheeks.
“Yeah, he’s getting us drinks.”
Ah, young love.
I knew the statistics on high school romances weren’t great, but that didn’t stop me from rooting for them.
Maybe because I saw a lot of me in Beckett in their dynamic.
Caleb had been through hell and come out on the other side, but he still had his days.
Sean helped make those days a little more bearable.
“Where’s Beck?”
I mirrored his smile.
“Getting us drinks.”
We talked for a few more minutes until Sean arrived with two plastic cups filled with cider.
Not wanting to be a third wheel, I took my leave and went to look for my own date.
I found him near the catering table, surrounded by a group of single moms.
I sighed and shook my head.
Some things never changed, but luckily, I had gotten pretty good at these rescue missions.
Pasting on a bright smile, I strode up to the group and wound a possessive arm around Beckett’s waist.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I said, interrupting Hannah Aldermore’s recounting of some injustice at the supermarket.
“I’m afraid I need to steal my husband. Enjoy your evening. The cake is amazing.”
Then I turned and walked away, taking Beckett with me amidst a chorus of protests.
“My hero,” he said once we made it out of earshot.
“You are too charming for your own good. I’m going to start gagging you when we go out.”
“Ooh, sounds kinky. Tell me more.”
He’d started to gray at the temples, which I kind of loved.
His knees creaked a little when he went up the stairs now, and he no longer had the same tolerance for fried food.
And he was still just as incorrigible as ever.
Immersed in the festive atmosphere, we spent the night dancing, laughing, and mingling.
It had been an incredible turnout—almost double from the previous year—and I loved seeing familiar faces from the gala circuit in the crowd.
We didn’t have fancy place settings or gourmet catering, but no one seemed to care.
Wrapped in a tight, neon pink sweater, Elisa Doherty Nolan danced with her new husband.
They had been married for almost two years now, and while I knew her track record, I had a good feeling about this one.
Kendall had come for the third year in a row, and this time, she had brought a partner.
I refrained from intrusive questions about their relationship, but internally, I was dying to know all the details.
Even Winn Carmichael was there—chatting animatedly with her mother about her upcoming art exhibit—looking happier and more at peace than I’d ever seen her.
When the night started winding to a close, I finally made my way to the podium, my hands shaking and my heart pounding against my ribs.
“You’ve got this.” Beckett hooked his finger in the collar of my sweater and tugged me in for a quick kiss.
“Knock ’em dead.”
I nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped up behind the microphone to stare out at a sea of rosy cheeks and smiling faces.
In that moment, it occurred to me that I had done this.
I had built this community.
This family.
Naturally, I’d had a lot of help along the way, and I couldn’t have done it without all the amazing people in my life.
For once, though, I figured it might be okay to be a little selfish.
To feel a little pride in what I had accomplished.
I had fought so damn hard for this, and that was something to be celebrated.
As the room quieted, I glanced to the side to find my safety net.
Meeting Beckett’s gaze, I exhaled as a wave of calm washed over me.
Things weren’t always easy.
Like all couples, we argued, usually about stupid stuff.
I still spiraled more often than not, but he was always right there to drag me back from the void.
Like now.
“Good evening, everyone,” I began, rubbing my thumb across the surface of my notecards.
“I’m a little nervous, so if I trip over my words, please pretend like you didn’t notice.”
Everyone laughed in a show of understanding and solidarity.
Everyone except Beckett.
He didn’t even smile.
Instead, he wore a tender, almost reverent expression, like I had hung the moon and bottled the stars into magic.
While we hoped for the best, neither of us could predict what the future held.
The only difference was that now, with Beckett by my side, I no longer feared the unknown.
I looked forward to the challenge.