Epilogue
Phoebe
Two Years Later
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain. This was a mistake. A huge one. I had no idea why I’d thought this would be a good idea. Obviously, I’d been wrong.
Hannah snickered. “I never knew you were such a wimp.”
“Shush, you.”
“Almost done,” Jett murmured. “Hang in there another couple minutes for me, okay?”
“Okay,” I replied tightly.
It had taken me two years to work up the nerve to get this tattoo, even though I’d known exactly what I wanted almost the entire time. The moment I told Hannah my idea, she’d charged full steam ahead, arranging a girls’ day while Deacon, Remi, and Silas—their little boy—hung out at the ranch.
A couple minutes had turned out to be an eternity. At least it felt that way. Jett finally finished, wiping my inner forearm clean.
“You can open your eyes now,” Hannah said, laughing.
I cracked one eyelid open, then the other, and stared down at the colorful ink decorating my skin. I’d imagined this so many times, seeing it in the flesh—literally—stole my breath.
My lips parted in awe. “It’s beautiful, Jett.”
This man, who’d become my friend since Deacon and I had gotten married, was a true artist. I’d given him a description, and he’d brought it to life. A spray of watercolor flowers was the background for a wooden rolling pin—my weapon of choice.
Beneath it were the words that meant everything to me: Hold the line. They were a mantra, a promise, a reminder to hang on and be brave.
Hidden in the flowers was a little surprise just for Deacon
Jett swiped his forehead. “Phew. If I gave you ink you hated, Deke would disown me.”
I held my sore arm out, twisting it to see from all angles. “Do you think he’ll like it?”
Jett lowered his chin. “I know my boy. He’d love you in any form, but that”—he nodded toward my new tattoo—“he’s going to piss his pants.”
“Oh goody!” Hannah clapped her hands. “That’s exactly the reaction Phoebe was looking for, piss pants.”
He snorted. “You’re sassy. Anyone ever tell you that?”
She feigned surprise. “Me? Never. First I’m hearing it.”
He wagged a finger. “Remember, you’re next to go under my needle. Too much sass and I might accidentally screw up.”
Hannah turned to me. “He’s joking, right?”
“Absolutely. When it comes to sass, you and Jett are pretty even,” I replied.
Once their playful bickering died down, Jett got to work on Hannah’s tattoo—a horseshoe with Remi and Silas’s birth month flowers around it. He left room for more flowers when they added to their family.
We left the shop an hour later, bandaged and ready to head back home. While I drove, Hannah checked her phone.
“They’re on their way to the park. Remi says Silas is in the mood to boogie. It sounds like I’m in for it,” she reported.
I laughed. My nephew, not quite a year and a half, was exactly like his mother—always on the go, keeping his parents on their toes. Hannah had boundless energy, and Silas really pushed it. Deacon and I had babysat him a handful of times, and by the time he went home, we always ended up looking like we’d survived a war. We loved him to bits, but, man, was he exhausting.
Hannah put down her phone, twisting in her seat. “This was it, right?”
“What?”
“The final thing you want to do before you start trying…”
I clamped down on my bottom lip, nerves flitting in my stomach like butterflies. “This was it.”
Deke and I had gotten engaged a month after Richie had taken me, and we were married six months later. We’d decided to focus on our marriage, careers, and healing before trying for a baby.
I loved being Deacon Slater’s wife. Best decision I’d ever made, even better than opening Sugar Rush. He was cut from the same cloth as my father—different origins, but the same kind of man. A family man. Hardworking. A man who loved his woman with every fiber of his being.
Deacon loved me so well, so deeply, I’d never had a single cause to question how strong and unbreakable we were together.
We’d met the goals we’d set for ourselves. We had a house with four bedrooms—one that was Hailey’s for when she stayed with us—and a yard big enough for a workshop. Sugar Rush was thriving, and I’d hired a third full-time employee to lighten my load. Deacon’s carpentry business had picked up so much, he’d been able to quit his roadwork job. We’d gone to baseball games in Denver, taken weekend trips to California, and visited Yellowstone. Deacon had even gotten a passport, and we’d snuck away for a long weekend in Mexico.
There were miles of things we still wanted to do, but we had the rest of our lives for that. This tattoo had been the last box for me to tick before tossing out my birth control pills.
Hannah giggled softly. “Deacon’s going to really love that tattoo.”
I was excited to have a baby with him, but first came the babymaking… “Oh yeah. He’s definitely going to love it.”
And so would I.
We arrived at the park just as the band started playing. We didn’t live close enough for me to listen to the summer concerts from my window anymore, but that was okay. Deacon and I rarely missed one. We always brought chairs, but they usually went unused in favor of dancing.
Hannah and I found Remi, Silas, and Deacon set up on a blanket. For now, Silas was transfixed by the music, his little butt parked in the grass.
As soon as Deacon spotted me, he stood, his gaze landing on the bandage on my arm. “What happened?”
Remi frowned at Hannah’s matching bandage. “You both got hurt?”
Deacon looped an arm around me, dragging me close. “Did you do something?”
I nodded, biting my lip. “It’s a surprise. You can look.”
He peeled back the bandage, head bent close. I watched his body jolt when he noticed the honeycomb hidden in the flowers—his initials etched in the lines.
“That’s…” He raised his head, eyes shimmering. “For me?”
I nodded. “You’re in my heart. Now you’re on my skin, honey.”
It was only right. He’d inked my name into angel wings after we’d gotten engaged. Put it on his ring finger when we got married. And a year ago, he got a bag of sugar tattooed on his thigh. I was all over him. And now, he was on me too.
With a grunt, he wrapped me tight in his arms and buried his face in my throat. Over his shoulder, I saw Hannah being loved in a very similar way. My heart full, I closed my eyes and hugged him back just as hard.
Later, Remi, Hannah, and Silas danced as a trio, and Deacon pulled me close, moving his hand over my back in slow strokes.
“Have I mentioned how much I love sundress season?” he asked.
“You have, but I think it bears repeating.”
His breath warmed my ear. “I love sundress season, but I love my wife even more.”
I smiled. “And I love my husband most.” Closing my eyes, I rubbed my face against his cheek. “This was the last thing I wanted to do before we started trying for a baby. So…if you’re ready—”
“I’m ready.” He pulled back, his eyes locking on mine. “You’re ready?”
I nodded.
“Right now?”
I laughed. “Can we finish this dance first?”
“One dance. That’s it, Phoebe.” He rocked his hips into me. “Can’t wait longer than that.”
“We’ve waited long enough.” I nuzzled his jaw. “I love you so much, Deke.”
He sifted his fingers into the back of my hair. “Love you endlessly, sugar. Always.”
I would never doubt that.
This man was my life. My home.
And as he held me close while the sun set, I knew our greatest adventure was only getting started.