Epilogue #2
The taller guy elbows Milo slightly and murmurs, “ Griffin’s just nervous, I think. He wants everything to go well.”
“I know.” Milo casts an affectionate look in the direction Griffin just disappeared.
“But when he gets like that, he needs his lumberjack.” He smiles at me and Ames.
“Oh, hey, you guys haven’t met my friend Merritt yet, have you?
Merritt, this is Ames—the littlest Axford.
And that’s Robbie… the, uh… biggest , I guess you could say. ”
I snort, amused.
Ames rolls his eyes, very much not .
Merritt sticks out his hand to shake ours, and when he lifts his head?—
I hear Ames’s sucked-in breath, and I get it. Holy fuck. The guy’s beautiful . Not gorgeous like Ames, with the irresistible bright fire of a meteor storm, but fine lines and dreamy eyes that are very nice to look at.
After Ames and I both shake his hand, Ames wraps a possessive arm around my waist and catches two fingers in my belt loop, like he wants to make sure the guy knows we’re not actually brothers and that I’m very much not available.
I lean into Ames’s side, knowing he’s strong enough to support my weight and needing to be closer.
Fuck , I really need to get Ames alone. At least for a minute.
“You boys having fun?” Vivian asks Milo.
He nods. “A shocking amount, actually. The guy at the library table nearly convinced me to join the romance book club. And there’s a woman who custom-crochets tank tops. I need one in every color?—”
As Milo’s talking, I’m scanning the crowd, mostly looking for an excuse to extract Ames from the conversation. Which is why I notice when Merritt’s gaze drifts too, and his attention gets caught.
Curious, I follow his gaze and nearly laugh out loud.
He’s watching Holden, who seems to be having a serious discussion with Deputy Sharin as they walk past Flora Buchanan’s pet adoption tent, where she’s got a bunch of brightly colored birds in cages who need good homes.
Holden’s still wearing his sling as he recovers from his bullet wound—a look Ames claims he pulled off way better than his brother—but he’s got his hair slicked down, and he’s wearing his sheriff’s uniform, probably so he can take a shift at the Emergency Services booth.
Whatever the deputy’s telling Holden has him scowling down at her while waving his good arm in annoyance.
And then all of a sudden, Holden lifts his head, like he can sense eyes on him.
His gaze locks with Merritt’s.
His whole face goes completely blank.
And he walks directly into the front pole of Flora’s tent.
The pole clatters to the ground, and Holden stumbles but manages to right himself. He catches the top edge of the tent before any damage is done, but every one of Flora’s birds immediately begins squawking, chirping, flapping, and cawing like some kind of avian Armageddon has been unleashed.
A dozen people turn to see what the problem is, and I can see Holden’s red face from here.
“Oh my word!” Vivian shoves her balsa wood birdhouse at Merritt, who fumbles it slightly before catching it, and rushes over to calm the commotion .
“That’s the sheriff?” Merritt asks quietly, cheeks flushed pink.
Milo laughs. “That’s him, alright.”
“He’s usually more coordinated than that,” Ames says with a frown, having missed the whole inciting incident.
I can’t wait to fill him in later. But for right now, I have other plans.
“We should go,” I say, tugging on Ames’s hand. “Booth duty calls.”
We say quick goodbyes, and I tow my boyfriend away. Since everyone’s distracted, I manage to pull him into a narrow alcove behind the Historical Society’s display, partly hidden by a banner about Winsome’s founding.
“Finally,” I breathe, pressing him against the side of the booth. “Been fucking ages since I got to kiss you.”
“Less than an hour,” Ames teases. But when I run my nose against the curve of his jaw, he tilts his head to allow me better access, and his breathing hitches.
I kiss him hard, and his mouth opens under mine immediately, his arms wrapping around my neck to hold me in place. My hands find his hips and pull him flush against me.
“You have to be at the booth in ten minutes,” he says breathlessly.
“I know.” I press another quick kiss to his lips. “This will tide me over.”
He laughs and pulls my head down for another drugging kiss. “A little extra, just to be sure,” he whispers against my lips.
We emerge back into the crowd, hands linked. The sun’s warm on my shoulders through my T-shirt, and everywhere we go, smiling Winsomefolk wave and greet us by name.
My whole family’s in this crowd somewhere. The Axfords, who’ve claimed me. The crew who fights beside me. The nieces and ex-sister-in-law I’d do anything for.
It’s the kind of day I dreamed of when I moved to Winsome sixteen years ago…
but better. Because back then, I hadn’t imagined a future where I’d wake up beside my very best friend every morning, give him goodbye kisses before work, or have movie nights with our nieces.
I hadn’t imagined how good it would feel to know Ames’s shirts hang beside mine in our closet, that our plans for the summer include building him the outdoor kitchen of his dreams in our backyard, and that every night I get to sleep with his breath in my ear and my arms around him.
Turns out the future’s ten times brighter when I let myself want things and work to achieve them.
“Hey,” Ames says, squeezing my hand. “Where’d you go?”
“Just thinking about how happy I am.” I smile. “And how much I love you. How glad I am you walked up to me sixteen years ago and said, ‘What’s your story, new kid?’”
“Is that so?” He grins up at me, and I let myself get lost for a second in those blue eyes. “Does that mean tonight might be a good time to soft-launch my new spice cabinet reorganization plans?”
I laugh out loud. “Hell, no. Hard launch or nothing, baby.”
Ames laughs. “I love you. Come see me later? I’ll save you the good focaccia.”
“Best friend privilege?” I tease .
“Hell no.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “ Boyfriend privilege, which is even better.”
I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and kiss him in the sunshine, just because I want to. Because I can.
Because he’s mine.