Epilogue
Epilogue
Drew
Three Months Later
“ H urry or we won’t get the chocolate chip and coconut pancakes. They always run out! Get a move on, you two!” Sarah Beth spills out of the van, running toward the lakefront gazebo, where the monthly biker brunch is already in full swing.
Tatum laughs and calls out, “Only get two! Your eyes are always bigger than your stomach!”
Sarah Beth waves a hand to let Tatum know she’s heard, but I seriously doubt Tatum’s warning will have any effect.
“She’s going to have a stack of six pancakes by the time we get to the table, isn’t she?” Tatum asks, gathering the basket of croissants and orange juice that’s our contribution to the meal from the back seat.
I loop my arm around her waist. “Of course. And then she’ll say her tummy hurts in half an hour. But I brought the Tums this time.”
“So prepared,” Tatum says, tipping her head back for a kiss. “That’s some hot dad behavior right there.”
“I aim to make you hot,” I murmur against her lips. “It’s my main mission in life.”
She smiles, making our teeth bump together. “Mission accomplished, handsome. Is it wrong that I’m super excited Sarah Beth is staying at your mom’s house tonight and we’re ordering pizza for a movie night?”
“No,” I say, pulling back and searching the park for signs of my mom’s car. “Is it wrong that I can’t wait for Mom to drink too many mimosas and start singing karaoke with Fred?”
Tatum giggles. “No. That’s the best part of biker brunch. Your mom is hysterical when she’s tipsy and singing Don’t Go Breakin’ my Heart.”
“Agreed,” I say, a wave of gratitude that Mom and Tatum are now fast friends sweeping through me all over again.
But I think my mom realized when I showed up at her house that morning in February, telling her I’d met my soul mate and was going to do whatever it took to keep Tatum with me in Bad Dog that she had two choices—embrace my girlfriend or see a lot less of her son.
Things were a little rocky at first, but after our first family dinner, my parents both pulled me aside and made it clear they saw what I saw. They realized that Tatum was special, kind, and completely crazy about Sarah Beth and me. She was the missing piece we needed to complete our family.
Hopefully, in just a few minutes, we’re going to take an important step toward making that family official.
A wave of nervousness tightens my throat, but it’s a good anxiety. I just want everything to be perfect.
Most of all, I want her to say yes.
“Oh, there’s Wren!” Tatum lifts an arm, waving with a big grin. “I’m so glad she made it. It feels like she’s been gone forever.”
I take the basket from her. “Go say hi. I’ll take this down to the picnic tables.”
“Okay, thanks,” she says, pressing a kiss to my cheek. She starts for Wren, but pauses, turning back to me to whisper, “Did Barrett tell you if she’s coming back to work or not? I’m dying to know if they’re going to make up and admit they have the hots for each other. The suspense is killing me.”
“Same,” I agree, “but you know Barrett. He isn’t talking. All he said was that Wren was planning on coming back to work after her sabbatical. That’s it.”
Tatum nods and squeezes my arm. “Okay. I’ll see what kind of dirt I can get out of her. And I have to hear all about her travels. I can’t believe she spent three months in Thailand. That’s so incredibly cool. Look how tan she is!”
She scampers off to meet Wren, her arms held out for a hug. I wave at Wren with a grin, then start down to the tables, where my mom has just arrived with the last piece of the master plan.
I deliver the croissants and juice and head over to where she’s joined Sarah Beth in the pancake line, instantly worried by the shine in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur, placing a hand on her back.
She swipes at her eyes with a shaky grin. “Nothing, I’m just so happy for you. And Grammy would be, too.” She lowers her voice to a whisper as she presses the ring box into my hand. “She told me to pretend it was lost when you asked for her ring for Nicky. Honest to God, she came to me in a dream and made me promise to wait to give it to you until you found the right one. You aren’t mad, are you?”
I smile. “No. She was right. And thank you. This means so much to me.”
Mom pats my arm. “Of course, honey. Now, go get romantic. I’ll keep an eye on Sarah Beth and make sure she doesn’t go into sugar shock.”
Sarah Beth, who’s been laser focused on the pancakes, turns to shoot her grandmother a narrow look. “I can handle four pancakes, Grammy. I can. My stomach is five years old now. I’m starting half day kindergarten in the fall!”
Mom nods indulgently. “Yes, I know. But growing stomachs need protein, too. Not just sugar. How about two pancakes and two pieces of bacon?”
“Three pancakes and one piece of bacon,” Sarah Beth counters.
I leave them bargaining for nutritional balance and head over to the small table by the gazebo that Fred set aside for me and Tatum. There are already two glasses of champagne waiting, as well as the fairy house Sarah Beth and I made at her ceramics class two weeks ago. Her teacher very sweetly fired it ahead of schedule so it would be ready for the big day.
With a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Tatum isn’t watching, I slip the ring out of the box and tuck it just inside the fairy “door,” the small opening at the front just big enough to tuck a candle in. Then I stuff my hands in my pockets and fight to quiet my racing heart.
I’ve just about pulled my shit together when two large hands clap down on my shoulders, and I nearly jump out of my skin. I spin to see Barrett and our younger brother, Christian, the only actual biker in our family, standing behind me. “Shit, you scared me.”
“You should be scared,” Christian says, grabbing my shoulders again from the front this time. “This is a big deal. This is forever, man. Are you sure you’re ready? I mean, Tatum’s great, but you’ve only known each other three months.”
I know he’s just teasing—Chris loves Tatum, too—but I can’t help but bristle.
Before I can tell my little brother to stuff it, however, Barrett surprises me by saying, “Leave him alone. He and Tatum are perfect together. And when you know, you know.”
I nod his way. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Barrett shoots me a tight smile before glancing over to where Tatum and Wren are getting in line for pancakes, talking animatedly and laughing in the warm May morning. “I’ll go tell her you need to speak with her. I should welcome Wren back, anyway, so…”
I hum beneath my breath. “Yeah, you should. Be nice to her.”
“Nice is a stupid thing to be,” Barrett mutters. “I’m honest. Anyone worth their salt knows honest is better than nice.”
He starts toward the food line and Christian sighs. “Well, that doesn’t bode well. Why can’t he see that she’s crazy about him?”
“Or that he’s crazy about her?” I agree with a shrug. “But it’s none of our business, I guess.”
Christian smirks, his blue eyes flashing. “Since when has that stopped a McGuire from sticking their nose in? I’m going to pull him aside later, after he’s had a few, and tell him I want to date Wren.” His laugh is absolutely diabolical. “See what he has to say about that .”
I exhale through my teeth. “Okay, but if you need a ride to the hospital, don’t come crying to me. I’m going to be on my way to the airport.”
“With your beautiful new fiancée,” Christian finishes, making me shoot him a hard look. He lifts his hands. “I know, I know, don’t jinx it. But you can’t jinx true love, brother. That’s the best part about it.”
A loud gobbling sound fills the air, making Chris turn and curse beneath his breath as Wren’s little sister, Starling—their mom had a bird fetish, apparently—comes walking down the hill with Kyle on his leash.
“Shit, not that thing again,” Christian says. “I keep telling Starling we don’t need a psychotic turkey in the fundraiser flyer picture, but she won’t listen.”
“To be fair, he’s not psychotic anymore,” I say, though I confess I don’t have much love for Kyle. He lost the chance to win my heart when he attacked my woman’s ass. “But I get it. People want to donate to save cute, fluffy things. Not a giant turkey with a big red thing hanging over one eye.”
“I don’t know why Kane thought I needed a fundraiser co-chair anyway,” he grumbles. “I’ve handled this on my own for the past four years. And Starling is practically a fetus. What does she know about fundraising?”
“I think she majored in it in college,” I say, chuckling as Christian curses some more.
“Fine, but I was here first, so I’m the boss,” he says. “Which means no turkeys in the flyer.” He starts to cross the lawn, but stops to turn back with a smile, “Oh, and good luck. But you won’t need it. She’s going to say yes, brother. Anyone with eyes can see you’re the love of her life.”
“Thanks, man,” I say, my throat tight again, as a wave of love for my brother—for my whole family—spreads through my chest. That’s the thing about love, the more you give it away, the more it keeps coming back to you, multiplied and even stronger than it was before.
I sniff, pulling myself together as I spot Tatum crossing the lawn, a plate in hand. She arches a brow as she sees the private table with champagne. “Well, well, isn’t this fancy?”
“I thought we could start date night early,” I say, glancing down at the plate, seeing that she got enough for two and picked out all my favorite things. Because she collects little facts about me like most people collect treasure. I have never felt more loved than I do when I’m with her and it isn’t any one big thing, it’s a hundred little things that add up to a new life that would no longer be whole without her.
She sets the plate on the table and reaches for my hand with a worried look. “Are you okay?” She bites her lip. “Did Barrett tell you something? Is he firing Wren? She’s planning to go back to work, but I should warn her if?—”
“No, it’s not about Barrett or Wren,” I say, deciding I can’t put this off another second. I wanted to wait until she found the ring herself, but I can’t hold it in a second more. “It’s about you. And me.”
She blinks, nodding slowly as she says, “Okay.”
“I need to discuss something serious with you.”
She nods again, pulling in a deeper breath. “Okay, but first, I have to give you something.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a plastic bag with a white and pink stick inside. Her lips curve in a nervous smile as she lifts it up and says, “Surprise, my serious thing is more serious than your serious thing! And I guess they weren’t kidding when they said missing one pill could result in pregnancy?” She swallows audibly and babbles on, “I’m so sorry to spring it on you like this. I was going to wait until pizza night tonight when we were alone, but you looked so serious that I wanted to give you some good news. At least, I hope this is good news to you? It’s amazing news for me, because I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than having a baby with you and raising our little one with Sarah Beth, but I could be?—”
I cut her off with a kiss, a deep, grateful, elated kiss that I break only when I have to come up for air.
“I’m so happy,” I say, tears streaming down my cheeks. But they’re streaming down Tatum’s, too, so I think it’s okay. “I can’t imagine better news. Unless it’s you telling me you’re having my baby and then saying you’ll marry me.”
Her eyes fly wide.
“Look in the fairy house. And happy belated Mother’s Day. Sarah Beth and I wanted to have it done by last weekend, but we couldn’t get it fired in time.”
“Oh my God,” Tatum whispers, dropping the positive test on the table with shaky hands as she bends, looking into the fairy house. “Oh my God, Drew. Oh my God.” She pulls the ring out, holding it up and immediately dropping it in the grass, she’s shaking so hard. “Oh no!”
“No worries,” I say, bending to collect it and staying there on one knee as I hold the ring up between us. “Margaret Tatum O’Leary, you are the missing piece I longed for every day until I met you. You are my light and my laughter and the best mother any kid could wish for. I’m so grateful you’re in my life. Words can’t express all the things I feel for you. But my actions can, and I intend to show you how deeply you’re loved from this day until the last day I’m lucky enough to breathe the same air as the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Beautiful, inside and out.”
She’s openly crying now, but her smile is still the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen when she says, “Yes. Yes, baby. There’s nothing I’d rather do with this one precious life than spend it with you.” She sniffs, adding with a grin, “And Elvis.”
It’s the perfect thing to say to get us laughing again.
But then, she always knows the perfect thing to say, a fact she proves when I tell her I booked us a three-day weekend in Austin to celebrate and she says, “I’m going to ride you wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and smile, future husband.” She arches a brow. “But that was kind of cocky, I’m not going to lie. Just assuming I’d say yes and planning a celebration trip.”
I grin. “The fact that you’re already sleeping in my bed every night and telling me you love me first thing every morning gave me hope. A little bit.”
She laughs. “Valid.”
I take her hand and nod toward the crowd of biker friends and family who are trying—and failing—not to stare at the scene we’re making. “Shall we share the news?” I whisper. She nods and I lift our joined hands into the air and shout, “She said yes!” A cheer erupts, making it clear all the people we love are overjoyed.
Sarah Beth runs over, her jaw open. “She said yes to what?”
“Tatum said yes to being my wife,” I say. “And your mom. We’re going to get married.”
The joy on my daughter’s face as she runs to Tatum, screaming, “You’re my mom for real! For real for real!” is enough to make me start crying all over again. I watch them hug and swipe tears off my cheeks with the backs of my hands, feeling so lucky it’s pouring out of my eyeballs.
Basically, I’m a hot fucking mess.
But Fred, ever an unexpected source of strength and wisdom, has a hanky and a word of wisdom for me, “You’re doing it all just right,” he whispers, patting me on the back. “When I proposed to Perry last month, I cried, too. There was snot everywhere. Snot proves it’s real love.”
I laugh and give him a hug, thanking him again for the part he played in helping me win the girl.
“My pleasure, buddy,” he says. “I had to. Any fool with eyes can see you two belong together.”
“Okay, let’s let Daddy and Tatum eat and get ready to go,” my mom says, putting an arm around Sarah Beth. “Remember, I told you they’re going on a surprise trip for a few days and you’re going to stay with me.”
Sarah Beth nods, still beaming like she just got her Christmas presents early. “I’m so excited. I get to be the flower girl, Grammy, Tatum said!”
My mom smiles. “And you’ll be a beautiful one.” She reaches for Tatum, pulling her into a hug, “Congratulations, sweet girl, and welcome to the—” She breaks off with an excited yelp and pulls back, pointing to the table behind Tatum’s back. “Is that what I think it is? Are we having another baby?”
Tatum laughs and nods. “We are. Surprise!”
My mother is apoplectic with joy and Sarah Beth does a spontaneous dance around the entire group gathered around us, singing, “I’m going to be a big sister! I’m going to be a big sister!” in a lovely voice she definitely didn’t get from me.
But that’s okay. My serenade still helped me win a chance at this woman’s big heart. And now she’s mine, and I’m hers, and we’re going to be a family for real.
A tight, loving, growing family.
No more waiting. No more faking it until I make it.
From now on, I get to live the life I’ve always wanted, with the woman of my dreams.
“We’re having trout pinball at the wedding,” Tatum says as we share a big stack of pancakes. “And you’re going to play inappropriately close to me and fondle my butt. For old times’ sake.”
I grin. “I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you, baby.”
She grins. “Good. That’s very good.”
And it is.
Barrett
M aybe it’s the romance in the air.
Maybe it’s the three glasses of champagne with too little orange juice.
But for some reason I can’t stop thinking about that night with Wren, that night that never should have happened. The one I swore I would forget the morning I got that text from her, the one stating that she was taking a three-month sabbatical and had arranged for Kinsey to take her place as head nurse until she returned.
I tried to text her back, to insist we talk about what happened before she ran away from me like a child, but she’d blocked my number.
Blocked. My. Number.
I was so angry; I swore I’d fire her the second she came back. But she’s the best nurse I have, the office hasn’t run properly since she left, and then there’s the irritating fact that I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her.
“Fucking ridiculous,” I mutter, making Christian jab me in the ribs with his elbow.
“Stop it,” he says. “It’s not ridiculous. It’s awesome. Drew and Tatum are so happy and in love. Drew’s weeping with joy, for fuck’s sake. Since when have you seen anyone in our family weep with joy?”
“Not them. They’re fine, it’s…something else,” I say, as I watch Wren with her sister, petting that contemptible turkey we should be fattening up for Thanksgiving dinner. “How can she coo over something that tried to kill her? Multiple times? The woman’s deranged.”
Christian hums beneath his breath. “You think? I think she’s gorgeous. I mean, Wren’s always been cute, but with a tan and that little sundress…” He exhales a breath. “She’s smoking hot. I was thinking I might ask her to the shelter benefit, actually. If that’s okay with you.”
“Why wouldn’t it be okay with me?” I snarl, sounding like one of the stray dogs Christian volunteers to socialize.
He shrugs. “I don’t know. I heard a rumor you two might have had a thing at some point?”
“No, there was no thing,” I grumble, managing to sound slightly less murderous, but only slightly. “And there never will be. Even if I was interested, which I’m not, I learned my lesson the first time. I’m not a man who can make marriage work and Wren’s the kind of woman you marry. That’s it. No need for you to speculate, or meddle, any further. If you want to ask her to be your date, knock yourself out.”
“Okay, I will,” he says, sliding his hands into his pockets with that effortless cool of his, the one I could never duplicate, even if I tried.
And I won’t try. I’m done trying. I’m done letting myself—and the people I want to love—down. There’s something broken in me, something that makes me very good at keeping my head in a crisis in the operating room and very bad at realizing that I’m letting people down before it’s too late.
Too late to stop my wife from leaving me for another man.
Too late to stop the woman I’m not sure I want to live without from moving on to my brother. Christian’s on his way over to Wren with his dazzling smile and easy charm. She’s going to say yes to the date. And then they’ll dance and flirt and laugh and it will be his cock she’s coming on come midnight next Saturday.
She’ll be in my brother’s bed and there’s not a damned thing I can do about it.
So, I do the only thing a man with any self-preservation instincts can do. I turn and I walk away.
Except that I don’t.
I mean to turn and walk away but suddenly find myself storming down the hill toward Wren Marie Baxter, ready to kidnap her like that asshole on the dance floor last February if that’s what it takes to keep Christian from getting his hands on her.
A part of me realizes I’m being unreasonable.
But another part, the part that took Wren against the wall at her house last February, doesn’t give a shit. It wants what it wants, and it wants her, even if I know full well this is going to end in disaster.