Epilogue One Year Later
Darcy
“A nd the trophy goes to Hall’s Belles!”
The four of us squeal and grip each other tight, then I step forward to take the trophy and hoist it above my head. “We won!”
Amanda, Devon, and Agatha surround me, and we cheer once more, jumping up and down and generally losing our minds. It’s probably a little over the top, but I don’t care.
“Smile!” Aaron calls from somewhere to our right.
We all turn, each of us holding the trophy, and grin like maniacs. Winning the Mobile Regional Bowling Tournament isn’t going to put us on the road to professional bowling or anything, but we practiced so hard this past year. Even got another couple of teams up and running at Hall’s Balls, so who knows? Maybe we’ll start our own baby tournament.
We break apart, each of us heading to our respective people. Devon is swept into Aaron’s arms, while Agatha’s daughter Betty coos over her and hands her a thermos of iced tea. My dad stands off to the side, his proud gaze bouncing between me and Betty. She and Dad finally stopped hiding their budding romance, and they couldn’t be cuter. Then there’s Amanda stepping into Harrison’s arms—because that happened, talk about a plot twist!—and my grouchy hot bartender glowers at me from where he stands a little farther away.
I lick my lips as I close the distance, not missing the way his eyes dart down to watch before raising back up.
“Your approach on that last frame was sloppy,” he admonishes.
I bite back a smile. “Was it, now?”
He nods, deadly serious. “It was a miracle you got that spare.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and tuck myself against him, making sure he’s got a good view of my tits. “Sure was,” I agree. Then I sigh dramatically. “If only our coach would just, I don’t know, coach us or something.”
A corner of his mouth quirks. “You little brat.”
I wink. “You gonna spank me later?”
He pretends to consider it. “Only if you’re good.”
“And if I’m bad?” I counter.
He brings his lips to my ear and speaks low. “Then I’ll make you swallow my cock.”
I shiver with delight.
“You two done over there?” Harrison calls, breaking up our party of two.
I turn and Anthony’s hand wraps around my waist before dipping to squeeze my ass. “For now,” Anthony hedges.
We walk outside, with Agatha carrying the trophy like it’s her baby.
“Party back at Hall’s?” Amanda asks.
“Of course,” Harrison answers, pulling her to him for a quick kiss.
“We’re celebrating more than our win,” I say. “I accepted my fiftieth order today!”
My friends shout and whoop, and the smile on my face is probably big enough to crack me in two. This past year has been a wild ride. A celebrity bought one of my pool tables and posted about it on social media, and business exploded. I ended up renting a workshop a block off the main road in our downtown and have been so busy that I’ve had to turn down more orders than I’ve accepted. I’m interviewing apprentices, of all things.
Anthony asked me to move in with him a few months ago, and I agreed. My little cottage was barely getting slept in as it was, so we made it official. No one’s moved in yet, but we all figure it’s just a matter of time before someone does. And who knows? Maybe that guy Chad will finally get a girlfriend out of it.
We’re greeted by a chorus of cheers when we get to Hall’s Balls. Reid and Willa are there, along with Matty and Goldie. Ox and Anthony’s parents are there, too. Even Levi and Charlotte are in the crowd, along with what looks like half the town.
“What’s all this?” I ask Anthony.
“You four are hometown champions,” he says. “We needed to be sure you were properly celebrated.”
I shake my head, grinning. “You’re ridiculous.”
He pulls me into a hug. “Maybe. But I love you.”
I look up at him and wonder how it is that I’ve gotten so lucky. Then again, he’s gotten lucky, too.
Much later, after I get that promised spanking and give Anthony head with my eyes covered by my bandana, we’re curled into each other on the bed. The windows are open to let in the unseasonably cool weather, and the sound of ocean waves drift through the curtains.
“Marry me.”
I blink, then blink again. “Did you?—”
“Marry me, Darcy,” he says again, turning on his side and resting his head in his hand.
I can barely see him in the dark of the room. “Anthony Hall. You can’t ask me to marry you in the middle of the night.”
His fingers caress my skin, roaming down my arm and around a breast, then up my chest and neck before finding my chin and tipping it up to meet his mouth in a kiss. “But I just did,” he counters.
I huff out an adoring laugh. “Ask me in the morning.”
And don’t you know, that’s exactly what he does. When I come to, I find the man looking at me, his hair mussed from sleep, still lying on his side with his head in his hand. Only now, in the daylight, he’s holding a gold and ruby filigreed ring up for my inspection.
“Good morning,” he grins. “Marry me.”
I say yes.