Epilogue
Tessa
Five months later…
It’s another McGuire family end-of-summer lake party and Mother Nature has pulled out all the stops. Early September has never looked so good.
The sun is shining, the water is refreshing, and all the people—and animals—we love are enjoying a well-deserved Friday off. The older cousins ride jet skis, while the younger cousins jump off the diving board in the middle of the lake in their life jackets, with Kyle the turkey and his growing family right behind them.
On our pontoon, Pippa Jane the pig, Keanu Reeves the dog, and our own furry bundle of trouble splash in a kiddie pool amidst a cacophony of oinks, dooks, and rusty barks. They’re making such a racket, I don’t hear Binx shouting for me to join the next bout of Pool Noodle Peril until she throws a beach ball at me from the next boat over.
“Hey, watch it,” Wes says, grabbing the ball and turning to hurl it back at his little sister.
Binx laughs and ducks the projectile, before standing with her hands lifted at her sides. “Tessa said she wanted to play against Mel. I didn’t want her to miss her turn just because Keanu Reeves has volume control problems.”
“He does not,” Wren says from behind her, where she’s busy setting up snack time for the toddler set, including her own precious boy, Reed, while wearing his new baby sister, Riley, strapped to her chest. “He’s just not afraid to speak his truth. Loudly.”
Keanu Reeves throws back his head, making a sound somewhere between a howl and a bunch of silverware tossed into a woodchipper. In response, Freya climbs on his back, reaching around to wrap both paws around his lips, making Wes and I laugh.
“Are you okay on critter duty alone for a little while?” I ask, standing to toss my straw hat onto the bench beside me.
“You bet,” he says, his gaze raking up and down my torso as I strip off my cover-up, revealing my gold one-piece bathing suit. He makes a rumbling sound low in his throat, and I roll my eyes.
“It’s a one-piece,” I hiss.
“It’s hot. You’re hot,” he murmurs, still devouring me with his eyes.
“And you’re incorrigible,” I say, aiming my cover-up at his face.
He catches it easily in one hand and smiles. “Yep. I have no interest in mending my wicked ways. In fact, I think I might need to take you out on the Sea-Doo later. To a little secluded cove, I happen to know about, where no one will hear you scream my name.”
My cheeks heat and butterflies fill my stomach. Even after five months of getting naked with this man every chance we get; I still can’t get enough of him. If anything, I want him more with every passing day.
But not enough to risk getting caught by one of the teenagers out riding their own Sea-Doos.
“Tonight,” I promise. “I have a surprise for you.”
His brows lift. “Yeah? A sex surprise?”
“Let’s just say my treasure chest order finally came in,” I murmur vaguely.
The lockbox we found in Utah didn’t contain Butch Cassidy’s loot, after all. Which turned out to be a good thing, Wes and I realized later. Butch’s treasure would have been protected under a 1979 law that gives the government ownership of all archeological finds. Our treasure—a time capsule buried by a group of high society Ivy Leaguers on a summer adventure in the 1950s—was exempt from the mandate, allowing us to do with the contents what we wished.
We kept the earrings, photographs, and delicate champagne glasses as mementos of our first find. We sold the vintage baseball cards and first edition of The Catcher in the Rye for a startling amount of cash.
And when I say startling, I mean enough to fund our Appalachian Trail adventure three weeks ago and buy the food truck I plan to turn into my full-time gig by next summer. And we still had enough left over for each of us to have five hundred dollars to spend on something nice for the house.
Wes moved in with me just a few weeks after our camping trip, and we couldn’t be happier. Especially since he spent his five hundred dollars constructing a gorgeous brick pizza oven on my back patio. We made wood-grilled pizza all summer, experimenting with new toppings and dough recipes while Freya played in the yard.
Soon, we’ll be able to end magical autumn nights by our brick oven with a visit to the sex swing in our bedroom…
Christian was nice enough to install it for me on the down-low this morning, while Wes and I were out buying drinks for the party before heading to the lake. Christian isn’t the most discreet McGuire brother, but he’s great with tools, and Wes has enough dirt on him that we can trust him to keep his mouth shut about our swing.
After all, we’ve kept our mouths shut about his sun goddess thing with Starling and the time Wes had to go let a naked Christian and Starling out of their shed after a tree fell across the entrance while they were playing “Love in a Zombie-Apocalypse Fallout Shelter.” (Weird, but whatever floats their boat. After all the hair-pulling and spanking Wes and I get up to on a regular basis, I’m certainly in no position to judge. And the handcuffs and blindfold… And the thing he did with ice cubes on a particularly steamy evening last week…)
I shiver as I blow him a kiss and leap off the end of the boat, grateful for the cool water closing over my head. I need something to cool me off or I’m never going to make it the next four hours until we head for home.
Over at the Pool Noodle Peril obstacle course and battle station, I pull myself up on the floating dock beside Melissa, who is wearing a nearly identical one-piece to mine, though hers is blue and allegedly still maternity wear. She’s only four weeks postpartum, but looks incredible. Aside from her much larger than normal breasts, I would never guess that she’d just had a baby.
But little Jonah James Boudreaux is currently napping in the shade with his grandmother on the largest pontoon, oblivious to the fact that his mother is about to defend her Pool Noodle Peril title just a dozen yards away.
“Don’t be scared,” she says, grinning like the shark she is as we pick our noodles from the garbage bin full of long foam floaties. “I’m not in peak condition. Jonah still isn’t sleeping through the night, and I was up feeding him at four this morning. There’s a chance you might actually move on to the semi-finals this year.”
I laugh and nudge her hip with mine. “Right. And pigs are going to fly out of my ass.”
“Pippa Jane is way too big to fly out of anyone’s ass. And she doesn’t have wings,” she says, her eyes dancing. “Just know I love you and kicking your sweet bottom is going to hurt me as much as it hurts you.”
“Right,” I say, laughing as Binx blows the airhorn to start the next bout and Melissa and I jump into the water, swimming hard toward the first obstacle while batting at each other with our noodles.
I hold my own across the water trampoline—even managing to bounce Mel off her feet once—but by the time we reach the rope swing and the floating foam lily pads on the other side, Mel is pulling ahead. When she bats me off the second lily pad with her noodle, sending me crashing into the water, I know it’s over, but I don’t give up. I pull myself up onto the diving board dock and hurry after her, crossing the finish line a mere fifteen seconds after the reigning champion.
Once we’ve both swum back to Binx’s boat and wrapped up in towels, Mel pulls me in for a damp hug. “Sorry, pumpkin. You know I love you.”
I return the hug. “Love you, too. Even though you’re filled with pool noodle blood lust.”
She giggles maniacally. “I really am.”
“Good job, Mommy!” Chase shouts from where he’s waiting in line for the shorter diving board on the other side of the boat with his stepdad, Aaron. “You kicked booty!”
Mel waves at him, but instead of moving to rejoin her family, she turns to me, catching my elbow. She lowers her voice, her smile fading as she whispers, “Hey, can we chat for a second?”
Frowning, I nod. “Of course. What’s up?”
She reaches down, taking my hands in hers, sending a shiver of apprehension up my spine. I hope she isn’t upset about the food truck thing. I told her I didn’t intend to leave the catering business until next spring, giving her plenty of time to find my replacement.
But she might still feel I’m being disloyal, abandoning her when she has a little one and a newborn and needs to lean on me more than she has before.
She pulls in a breath, her eyes shining as she says, “I just want you to know how happy I am for you, for all the good things happening in your life, both personal and professional. And if you decide you want to launch your business earlier than planned, I’m on board, okay? You’ve waited long enough for your dreams to come true. You shouldn’t have to wait any longer. Not because of me, anyway.”
I squeeze her hands. “Thank you, babes. That’s so sweet, but I can’t afford the renovations I’ll need to make to the truck until next year. I need time to save up.”
“Small business loan,” Binx says, suddenly appearing beside us, a sweating beer in hand. “You’ll be approved. I have no doubt. I mean, as long as you get your butt in and apply before I quit in October.”
My brows shoot up. “What? You’re quitting the bank?”
“I am,” she says, “but that’s not the important part. The important part is that you don’t have to wait to start Easy Breezy Cheesy. Which, as far as I’m concerned, is good news for everyone. I need gourmet grilled cheese in my life like, yesterday.”
“Same,” Mel says, beaming up at me, her eyes still misty. “It’s time to fly the nest, Tessa Marley Gray McGuire.”
I bite my lip as emotion swells in my chest. “Don’t jinx it,” I say with a soft laugh. “He hasn’t asked me yet.”
Binx and Mel exchange a look I don’t understand until Binx nods over my shoulder. “I think you should turn around.”
Pulse picking up, I turn to see Wes standing on the deck of our boat and Freya picking her way expertly across the small rope ladder stretching between the two anchored pontoons. She’s wearing her fancy blue bow from the wedding, the one Wes removed earlier so that she could swim without getting it wet.
But it isn’t just the bow. There’s something else tied to the satin. I see it even before she reaches the edge of the ladder.
I reach for her with shaking hands. “Wesley McGuire,” I say, my voice trembling nearly as hard as my fingers as I untie the bow, freeing the gorgeous diamond ring dangling from Freya’s neck. “Did you seriously just trust a ferret on a rope ladder wearing a slippery satin bow with our future?”
He grins, his eyes crinkling at the edges as Freya climbs up to perch on my shoulder. “She promised she wouldn’t drop it. Besides, she’s part of our future, too. She told me she thinks you should say yes, by the way.”
Holding his gaze across the few feet of water separating us, I say, “Maybe I will. Once you ask me.”
Without missing a beat, he sinks down onto one knee, triggering murmurs of surprise from the surrounding boats. Someone shuts off the music and even Keanu Reeves and Pippa Jane fall silent in their baby pool as Wes says, “Tessa Marley Gray Martin, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be. Even on my hardest days, when I’m reminded of all the shittiness in the world, it doesn’t drag me down. Not anymore. Because I know I’m coming home to you.”
I press my lips together, fighting tears as he continues, “You make me a better man, a braver one, and every time I look into your eyes, I know I’m where I’m supposed to be, with my person. I love you more than anything, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it. All you have to do is say yes.”
“Yes,” I say, the word bursting from my chest as I nod so fast it sends the tears in my eyes streaming down my cheeks.
“What’d she say?” one of the elderly members of the McGuire clan shouts from a nearby boat, making us all laugh.
“Yes!” I shout. “I said yes!”
More laughter and cheers erupt from the party at large as Freya begins grooming my hair and ears, doing her part to make me presentable for my shiny new fiancé. After sliding the gorgeous ring on my finger, I hug her to my chest, watching as Wes strips off his shirt—yes, please—and jumps into the water.
A few moments later, he’s on the boat beside me, gathering Freya and me into his damp arms. I shiver and press closer, looping my wrists around his neck.
“Want to elope?” he asks, kissing my cheek. “So we can spend the autumn being obnoxious newlyweds?”
I beam up at him. “Yes. Immediately. Weekend in Vegas? I hear you can get married in less than twelve hours.”
“That would leave another whole day for hunting treasure in the desert,” he says, proving he’s my man.
Mine…
It’s for real now. For keeps.
“It would,” I agree, brushing his wet hair from his forehead. “But I think I already hit the jackpot.”
“Aw, so cheesy,” Binx says, drawing our attention to the group of McGuire adults and toddlers currently watching us from the shade beneath the pontoon’s awning. “But so sweet. You two are the real deal. Can I please throw you a big party when you get home from eloping? We could do it in early October at the vineyard. Before it gets too cold. My friend Trixie said she could get me a discount on the venue as long as we do the catering ourselves.”
“I’ll cater,” Mel says, without missing a beat. “I know all the foods you two like best. You won’t have to do a thing except show up.” She lifts her arms, swaying from side to side as the music kicks back on and Uptown Girl by Billie Joel floats across the lake. “And dance all night. Getting married reminded me how much I love dancing.”
Wes pulls me close, swaying to the song as Freya climbs onto his shoulders, licking the water from his skin. He frowns and shoots her a sideways glance, but doesn’t stop dancing. “I guess this means she approves?”
I grin. “It means she loves you and wants to keep you warm, safe, and dry.”
“I love her,” he says, his gaze softening as he wraps his arms tighter around my waist. “And you. I can’t wait to make you my wife.”
Joy bubbles up inside me, so fierce that it makes me tear up and laugh at the same time. “Sorry,” I say, sniffing and giggling. “I’m just so happy, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“How about we swim over to our boat and start looking for plane flights on my phone? I don’t have to be back in the office until Wednesday. If we fly out early tomorrow, we can stay three nights.”
“Except that I have a banquet to cater on Monday,” I say, my lips turning down.
“I bet your boss would give you a day off,” Wes says, raising his voice as he glances Mel’s way, “Wouldn’t you, Mel?”
“Wouldn’t I what?” she asks.
“Give Tessa an extra day off, so she doesn’t have to come in until Wednesday?”
“I told her,” Mel says. “She can quit and start working on her food truck tomorrow if she wants.” She spins, slapping a hand to her forehead before she continues dancing, bumping hips with Binx, who’s also getting into the groove. “Actually no, you can’t quit until November 1st. We have that huge fish banquet for the Bad Dog Anglers Club the last weekend in October, and you know I don’t do fish. At least not without wanting to vomit the entire time. But yes, take the extra day, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.”
“November 1st sounds perfect,” I say, my blood fizzing with excitement. “And Vegas sounds even better.”
Thirty minutes later, Wes and I have booked the last two seats on the seven a.m. flight to Vegas, Freya has a sleepover date with Binx for the next few nights, and we’re loading up our bowls for ice cream sundaes amidst an abundance of well-wishing family members.
Family…
This is my family. Mel, Chase, Binx, and all the other sweet and crazy McGuires, they’re mine now, too. I’m not just getting the husband of my dreams, but dozens upon dozens of incredible people to love.
“I’ll never be lonely again,” I whisper to Wes on our way home, tears pricking at my eyes.
He reaches across the car, threading his fingers through mine. “Me, either.”
I’m so happy, so in love and busy thinking of all the things I need to pack for our last-minute wedding/treasure-hunting trip, that I totally forget about my surprise. It isn’t until Wes shouts—“I thought I couldn’t love you more. I was wrong”—from the bedroom while I’m feeding Freya that I remember.
Giddy and grinning, I dash down the hall, laughing as I spot him by the swing, his eyes glittering like he just got all his Christmas presents early. “You like?” I ask.
“I love,” he corrects, moving toward me. “The things I’m going to do to you on this swing, Mrs. McGuire.”
I sigh. “I can’t wait, Mr. McGuire.”
“You don’t have to,” he says, shutting the door behind me with a shove of his palm and pulling me into his arms.
My clothes vanish as we kiss like we’re starved for each other, like we’re never going to get enough. I know I won’t. I could make out with this man every day and never get tired of his taste, his touch, the way he makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the world.
By the time he lifts me into the swing, adjusting the straps so my shoulders are lifted high enough for me to watch as he fits us together, there’s nothing but him. He’s my focus, my center, the rock I know I can depend on today and every day, for the rest of our lives.
He grips my hips, letting the momentum of the swing send me gliding forward, until he’s buried deep, filling me the way only he can.
And wow, the swing is fun, but it’s the connection between us that makes our love life so explosive. It’s knowing I can trust him with every part of me and he can do the same.
Later, after we’ve showered, packed, and made sure all our bags are by the door, ready to go for the early flight, we snuggle with Freya on the couch, watching trashy reality television about hot people trying not to have sex with each other in order to win money. Just a few minutes in, Wes and I decide we would definitely be kicked off the island the first week.
“I can’t keep my hands off you,” he says, proving it as he curls his fingers around the thigh I’ve stretched across his lap. “No amount of money is worth a week away from this pussy.”
I grin. “Agreed. And I’m pretty sure treasure hunting is more lucrative than reality television. At least so far. I’m excited for our next adventure, Preston.”
“Me, too, Lady Gray,” he says, his hand creeping up my thigh. “Especially now that we’ve had our rabies shots. Bats don’t scare me anymore.”
Humming beneath my breath, I murmur, “They still scare me. A little bit. But I’ll wear my hair in a braid, give them fewer places to get trapped when they fly for freedom.” The words make me wonder… “Speaking of freedom…” I trail my fingers up his muscled forearm. “Are you worried about that at all? Are you sure you’re ready to be a one-woman man?”
He smiles, a relaxed grin that leaves no doubt he means it when he says, “I’ve never been more certain of anything. As long as the woman is you.”
Freya chuffs and stretches across our laps, wiggling as if to say, Less cheesy love talk; more petting the ferret, please.
So, we do, spoiling our little girl with affection to make up for leaving her with her auntie Binx for the next three nights.
And then, bright and early the next morning, we load our things into Wes’s car and embark on our biggest adventure yet.
The one that’s going to last the rest of our lives…