Epilogue
EPILOGUE
MEYER
“Honey, I’m home!”
At the sound of my voice, I hear a small mew, and then the ten-week-old kitten we found the other day, in almost exactly the same spot I found Fish, comes running across the room.
I bend down and scoop her up, cooing to her like I did to Atticus when he was a baby.
The kitten starts to purr as I hold her, kneading her paws against my arm. She’s much more affectionate than Fish. I run my fingers over her soft, light-coloured fur while I walk deeper into the house.
“Hi, baby,” Jackson says when I enter the kitchen. He’s standing by the counter, stuffing something in his pocket.
I lower Honey from near my face. “Jackson,” I say, “I didn’t know you were home.”
“You called out to me when you walked in the door.”
I laugh. “No, I called out to her.” I brandish the small kitten in my arms. “Meet Honey. ”
The poor kitten has been nameless since we found her, but I didn’t want to settle for just anything. Then this morning while I was driving to Calderville, the perfect name hit me.
He raises a brow. “You named her Honey?”
I nod. “I did.”
“And why did you do that?”
“Because she reminds me of the colour of your eyes.” With the hand that’s not holding on to the kitten, I loop around the back of his neck and tug his face down to mine. “Hi, honey.”
“That’s going to get confusing,” he argues as his hands find their home on my hips.
I brush my lips against his. “Don’t care.”
He pulls me in closer, deepening the kiss. It’s been a year, but kissing him still feels like the first time, and I don’t ever want that to stop.
Honey mewls in protest to our attention being elsewhere. We draw apart, and then I hold the kitten up to Jackson’s face. She playfully bats his nose with the pads of her paw.
“Isn’t she so freaking cute ?”
“Adorable,” he affirms, stroking between Honey’s ears. “Though I’m not sure Fish would agree.”
The only being not content with the newest member of our family is the orange tabby with a propensity for stealing underwear. We introduced him to Honey last night, and he regarded her with a wary expression, followed by a lot of hissing. Baby steps .
“He’ll get used to her. He got used to you, and Honey is much cuter.”
Jackson slides his hand from the small of my back and gives my ass a light smack. “How are Beatrice and Ilsa today?” he asks. “Did you have a nice morning?”
“We did,” I say, and then I grin. “I think Mom has finally convinced Ilsa to join her book club.”
It took me a while to tell Mom what I had discovered about my birth mother. I wanted to let it all sink in for myself first, but I was also scared. For the same reason I never went looking for answers, I was worried about telling her who Ilsa is to me. I didn’t have to worry, though.
As it turns out, Mom had suspected over the years, so the news didn’t come as a shock. Mostly, she was happy that we didn’t have that unknown looming over us anymore, and then she started including Ilsa in everything. They had already been friends, but folding Ilsa into our little family came even easier.
“Those ladies are going to give Ilsa a run for her money,” he says, amused. “Are you ready to go?”
“Depends.” My eyes narrow playfully. “Are you ready to tell me where we’re going?”
He chuckles. “Nice try, baby. That didn’t work the first ten times you asked, and it’s not going to work now.”
“Fine.” I let out a huff as I head toward the bathroom and close Honey inside. She’s still too small to have full run of the house while we’re gone for extended periods. When I return, I put on my sweetest expression. “I’m ready. But can I check one thing first? ”
Jackson shakes his head, though he smiles. “The inn will be alright without us.”
“I know,” I say. “I just want to double check before we’re off the clock for the rest of the day.”
While Jackson and I would never truly be off the clock as business owners, we had made a concerted effort over the last year to cut down on the amount of time we spent hovering at the inn. Okay, the amount of time I spent hovering. It’s a…work in progress.
“Okay,” he agrees. He grabs my hand and starts leading me out the front door. “But after that, I get you all to myself until tomorrow. Deal?”
I watch him fit his key into the lock on the door. Not the door to my old cottage, but the door to our house. Our home. It needs a lot of work, but it’s ours.
The first step in Jackson’s master plan was finding a house for us to buy. It couldn’t just be any old house, though. It needed to be perfect , according to him. I wasn’t all that concerned—I simply wanted to be wherever he was—but he made lists. Lots of lists, full of pros and cons.
It was an extremely convoluted operation, but I left him to his precious data, and finally, two months ago, we closed on this house just up the highway from the inn. It has aspects we both like, but it’s enough of a blank slate that we can really make it our own.
I smile. “Deal.”
Once we get in the car after checking in with Pippa and Trystan, Jackson makes me close my eyes. I’m tempted to peek, but I hold back. Nervous anticipation fizzles in my belly as I think about all the possibilities.
After driving for a few minutes, we come to a stop.
“Where are we?” I can’t help but ask.
Jackson laughs. “Meyer, we’ve been over this. It’s a surprise for a reason.”
I huff, but I let him help me out of the car and lead me to our destination. I can tell that we’re outside—the summer afternoon sunshine is bearing down on us, warming my exposed skin.
“Alright, you can look now.”
My eyes fly open, and I blink as my vision adjusts. “The creek?” I glance back at Jackson and then to the spread before me. “What are we doing here?”
It’s been a full, busy summer, and we haven’t been back since that day last year. The creek would always feel special, though. It was the start of something new for us.
Today, a blanket has been set out on the grass on the bank of the creek. On top of the blanket is a small picnic basket and a bottle of strawberry wine. My heart hammers in my chest.
“Oh my God, are you proposing?” I spin around, meeting Jackson’s wide-eyed stare. “Shit, I messed up your whole spiel, didn’t I?”
His lips twitch in amusement. “I was going to wait until later, but I suppose it isn’t a surprise anymore.”
“Wait, let me turn around. We’ll start over.” I spin again, giving him my back. He laughs, but I can hear him coming closer. I resist the urge to bounce on my toes in excitement. “Ready?”
“Ready,” he says.
This time when I turn, I find Jackson holding something between his thumb and forefinger. The ring glints in the summer sunshine. The oval stone is a gleaming sapphire that sits on a thin gold band, small clusters of diamonds on either side of it.
And it looks familiar.
“Is that—?” I point toward the ring as my eyes shine. “That’s Cherie’s.”
Jackson nods. His throat bobs as he swallows his emotion. “It is. Along with the inn, she also left me her ring.” He shakes his head, though a wistful smile stretches his lips. “She was always scheming.”
My mother had said as much, but I didn’t truly believe it until this moment.
He looks down at the ring for a moment, then back up at me. “She knew what it took me a while to see. She sent me to Dog Days knowing that I would find you. Hoping that I would be smart enough to understand.”
“Understand what?” I whisper.
“That you and me belong together. That our strengths are complimentary. That slowing down was exactly what I needed.”
Logically, I know what’s about to happen, but I still feel a wave of shock when Jackson lowers himself to one knee on the blanket. My heart pounds harder now.
“When I came to Fraisier Creek last April, I had no idea what I would be getting myself into. How tangled up in you and this town I would become. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, Meyer, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. It would be an honour to be your husband.”
My heart stutters as tears well in my eyes. “Jackson…”
“Marry me, baby,” he says. “Let’s make a life together.”
I nod, a couple tears now sliding down my face. “Yeah, okay,” I say through a sniffle. “I’ll marry you.”
I grip Jackson by the shirtfront and haul him to his feet. Then I drag his mouth to mine, sealing our agreement. This time last year, I never would have dreamed this would be my reality. That Jackson Vaughan, my fiancé , would be holding me in his arms. That everything would feel so right.
We eventually pull apart, and Jackson dries the tears on my cheeks. Then he takes my hand, and I suck in a breath. The ring slides over my knuckle with ease, resting at the base of my finger, the perfect fit.
“I’m not changing my name,” I warn. Ellison means too much to me to give up.
He laughs. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
I grin, letting the giddiness I tried to curb finally break free. With a small squeal, I launch myself at my fiancé, my arms snaking around his waist. His arms fold around me in turn, his chin resting on top of my head.
“I love you,” I say.
“I love you, too, baby,” he replies. “Do you want some wine?”
I shake my head, pulling back from his embrace. “There’s something else I want first.”
“Yeah?” His brows raise, a sly smile spreading across his face. “What’s that?”
Planting my hands on his chest, I start backing him closer to the creek. Now, he looks down at me in confusion. Once we’re close enough, I shove him with all my strength. He lands in the water, ass first and fully clothed.
When he comes up for air, shaking out his wet hair, I grin.
“Payback, honey,” I say.
And then I peel off my clothes and jump into the water after him.