Epilogue
JACK
Several months later
I’d just pulled the lasagna out of the oven when all my carefully laid plans for the evening went to hell.
The knock at the front door was my first clue. Bonnie shouldn’t be knocking on her own front door. It wasn’t even locked.
Then came the muffled voices from the other side. Two distinct voices. Ones that I recognized.
My hand went briefly to my pocket before I turned the oven off. Then I made my way to the entryway—the newly remodeled entryway.
Over the last six months, the house had undergone extensive renovation.
Now we had a beautiful outdoor space, a screened porch, and a large deck for entertaining.
There were even raised beds for a vegetable garden and lattice work beneath the decking for the blackberry plantings Candace and Mercer had given us.
We’d made upgrades here and there throughout the existing interior, but we’d also added a large bedroom, a walk-in closet, and an en suite bathroom.
The new addition on the back of the house would be ours—mine and Bonnie’s.
All the rooms were now bright with natural light and neutral wall paint.
No more dark paneling anywhere. The old carpet had been torn out, and the wooden floors beneath refinished.
And today was the day the crew had completed the kitchen, the last remaining piece in the remodel puzzle.
The bay window and new cabinets made the space feel sunny and open.
The pale granite countertops complemented the walls and flooring.
My eyes snagged briefly on the light fixture over the kitchen table.
Everything was the way Bonnie had envisioned it.
She’d seen the potential, and we’d made it happen. We were celebrating tonight.
At least, we were supposed to be.
I swung the front door open.
Standing on the porch was Brady Judd, supporting a giggling Bonnie.
An unfamiliar minivan sat in the driveway, and MacKenzie Clark hung halfway out the passenger-side window, waving madly and shouting at her sister.
I couldn’t make out the rest of the figures inside the vehicle, but at least two more people were moving around.
I looked between Brady and Bonnie. “What is going on?” I asked.
“Just help me get her inside,” Brady said.
“I am fine,” Bonnie insisted, but the toe of her white sneaker caught on absolutely nothing as she passed through her brand-new front door.
To save time, I scooped her into my arms. She squealed in my ear, and instead of her honeysuckle-sweet scent, I caught something bubbly and dry with a whole lot of orange.
“They got hammered,” Brady said from behind me as I settled Bonnie on the sofa.
I glanced his way, and he tossed his hands up in exasperation.
“I don’t know, man. Mac called me and said they needed a ride.
I had to borrow my mom’s minivan to get all their drunk asses home.
Larry and Becca and Joan are in the car too.
It was like herding cats, I swear. By the time I got one of them in the van, another left to go to the bathroom.
They made me go through the McDonald’s drive-thru and pick up French fries. ”
“And fountain Coke,” Bonnie added helpfully as she leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes.
“That was probably a good thing,” Brady said thoughtfully. “Something to soak up all the alcohol.”
“I thought they were going to happy hour and drinking mimosas at Lonely Mountain?” I asked, baffled by the turn of events.
Bonnie had left my apartment, where we’d been living during the renovation of the house. I’d wanted to surprise her tonight with dinner in the completed kitchen, so I’d told her to have fun with her friends and then meet me here afterward.
Brady winced. “Bottomless mimosas, apparently. They were all trashed by the time I got there. Something about cheering Joanie up. I don’t know.
I didn’t ask. My sister’s sleeping it off in the back of the van.
When I left them, Becca was singing her a lullaby and Larry was taking pictures of her with her phone. ”
I watched Bonnie reach out blindly and grab the blanket off the back of the sofa, eyes still closed.
“Smells good in here,” Brady offered before taking in the scene.
Tall taper candles glowed softly on either end of the kitchen table.
A flower arrangement with roses and sunflowers and carnations sat dead center.
The two place settings were arranged and just waiting for the next phase of tonight’s plan.
“Thanks,” I sighed.
“Sorry, she’s . . .” He gestured to where Bonnie was slumped over on the couch. “Like this.”
Just then, a series of aggressive honks came from outside.
Brady released a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “At least Bonnie gets sleepy when she’s drunk. Mac just gets more Mac-like.” Three more rapid horn honks sounded, followed by yelling. “Shit, I’d better go. See you at soccer practice on Tuesday.”
“Yeah, see you,” I said. “Thanks for bringing her home.”
“No problem, Jack.”
With that, Brady hustled back outside to the rest of the women.
I stared down at Bonnie, my hand finding the box inside the pocket of my jeans once more. Just to be safe.
Right then, her mouth dropped open, and a loud snore came from the back of her throat.
Smiling, I shook my head. At least she wasn’t sick this time.
I let Bonnie rest on the couch while I blew out the candles and packed away the lasagna in the fridge. I wiped down the new counters and washed the few dishes I’d dirtied. Then I checked on Oreo and made sure she had enough food and water for the night.
The rabbit was ours now, officially. After winter break, Bonnie had talked to the second-grade teacher, who hadn’t even realized her rabbit went missing every weekend.
She’d been thrilled that Bonnie wanted to take Oreo off her hands.
Bonnie had offered to bring her in once a month to visit the classroom.
I was proud of her for asking for what she wanted. And now the furry little sock destroyer had the best of both worlds, social time and a stable home where she was loved and wanted.
After I finished tidying up for the night, I went back to the sofa and sat down next to Bonnie.
My hand, once again, worried the box’s edge through the denim of my pants.
As I watched the steady rise and fall of her breathing, I tried not to be too disappointed about my big plans.
There would be more opportunities for romantic dinners and nights in.
With the new full-time manager at Magnolia working five nights a week, my schedule had opened up.
Bonnie and I had all the time in the world.
And now we were home, and nothing was going to change that.
I brushed a strand of blond hair back from her face and said softly, “Clyde, it’s time for bed.”
She groaned, and I laughed.
“Come down here with me,” she urged, tugging on my arm, trying to get me to lie down with her on the couch.
“No, let me help you up. You’ll be more comfortable in our bedroom. I can carry you, if you want.”
Sleepy eyes blinked up at me. “Yes, please. You’re so big and strong. And handsome. And sweet. And my favorite person.”
I chuckled as I stood and slid my arm beneath her knees. “And you’re drunk.”
But I knew she wasn’t lying. Bonnie showed me she loved me every single day. It wasn’t so much proving it as it was simply living the truth she held in her heart. She was free and open with her affection. She showed she cared in a hundred ways, big and small, quiet and loud.
Once I lifted her and she was comfortably in my arms, Bonnie slid her fingers through my hair and started kissing my neck.
“Mayyyybe, I am a little drunk,” she singsonged, her breath warm against me.
I cleared my throat and focused on getting her down the hallway and into bed. To sleep. That was all.
Our first time in our new bedroom was not going to be like this.
“Let’s get you into some pajamas,” I said, and placed her gently on the mattress.
I’d been bringing boxes of things over from the apartment to the house all week. Bonnie’s clothes were hanging in the huge walk-in closet and folded neatly in the chest of drawers.
The bed had been delivered two days ago. She hadn’t seen it yet.
Her hand petted the fabric of the bedspread as she gazed down. “This is pretty,” she murmured dreamily.
She should think it was pretty. It was the bedding she’d saved on her Pinterest board under “Wish List for Later.”
I bit down on my smile as I retrieved her favorite pajama pants and my tee shirt that she’d never given back.
With quick, efficient movements, I lifted her blouse over her head. It wouldn’t do to get distracted right now, not even by the black bra she wore. Christ.
She apparently didn’t need my help to undo the clasp and slingshot the lacy scrap of fabric across the room.
Grinning and topless, she leaned back on her elbows. “Okay, now it’s your turn. Take it off.”
I shook my head slowly from side to side, but I couldn’t do anything about the smile on my face. Bonnie pouted adorably.
Well, I supposed I was getting ready for bed too.
With one arm raised, I reached back over my shoulders and grabbed a fistful of fabric. Bonnie clapped in delight, and the movement did very distracting things for her breasts, still fully on display.
But then I recovered and tugged my shirt up and over my head.
“Come here,” she encouraged.
So I braced my hands on either side of her hips and leaned in close. I heard her breath catch and watched her eyes go dark as she reached for me. But I was quicker.
I pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose and said, “No,” then straightened up to standing.
“Booo!” she called while flopping dramatically back on the mattress, one arm thrown over her eyes.
I took the opportunity to slide her jeans down, but before she could get too excited, I pulled her pajama pants on. After I’d urged her to sit up, I slid the tee shirt over her head and passed her a water bottle.