Bonus Epilogue
One year later
Daisy
I’m reading my horoscope over morning coffee when Jake emerges from our bedroom, hair sticking up in three different directions and wearing nothing but boxer shorts.
He’s gained back the weight he lost after his heart episode, plus a few extra pounds from my newfound love of cooking—or I should say, our newfound love of cooking together.
If he’s not home, I revert to my old ways of cereal or takeout.
The cardiologist says his numbers are perfect. The slight softness around his middle just makes him more huggable, but he still works out, often with a trainer. I’ve decided he simply loves physical exertion and the personal challenge.
“Morning, sexy,” he mumbles, dropping a kiss on top of my head before heading to the coffeemaker. We upgraded to a proper machine after I realized we were spending eighty dollars a week at the coffee shop.
“Listen to this,” I say, holding up my phone. “Virgo: New life enters your world this month. Prepare for changes that will bring joy and responsibility in equal measure.”
Jake pauses with his mug halfway to his lips. His green eyes sharpen with that particular look he gets when he's trying to read a situation. “Daisy…”
“What?”
“Are you…?” He sets his coffee down and turns to face me fully. “Should I be asking if you’re pregnant?”
I nearly choke on my coffee. “God, no! Jake, I’m on birth control. And trust me, I’d know.” I wave my phone at him. “It’s just a horoscope. They probably mean, like, a new job opportunity or something.”
The tension leaves his eyes, but there’s something else in his expression now. Something softer. “Would that be such a terrible thing? I mean, hypothetically?”
I study his face, noting the way he’s trying to appear casual while asking something that clearly isn’t casual to him. “Are you asking if I want kids?”
“Maybe.” He leans against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you?”
The question hangs between us, heavier than anything should at seven-thirty in the morning.
We’ve been officially living together for over six months now—after spending the first half of the year doing long-distance the best way we knew how.
First in my tiny Chicago apartment, then here in North Carolina, where KOAN established their permanent base. We’ve never talked about kids.
“I…” I set down my mug, thinking. “Yeah. Someday. Not right now—we’re still figuring out the whole living together thing—but someday. What about you?”
“Someday sounds about right.” Jake’s smile is soft, the one he reserves for when we’re being real with each other. “Though I gotta say, the idea of a little girl with your stubbornness and your big brain is pretty appealing.”
“And your height, so she can reach things on high shelves.”
“And my sparkling personality.”
I snort. “You mean your ability to eat an entire pizza and fall asleep on the couch during movie night?”
“That’s a valuable life skill, darlin’.” He moves closer, sliding his arms around my waist. “So, kids someday. What else? The white picket fence? Minivan?”
“I am never driving a minivan.” I still rarely drive, but in North Carolina I find there are times it’s required. I lean into him, inhaling the sleep-warm scent of his skin. “But maybe we should start smaller. Work our way up to tiny humans.”
“Smaller how?”
I grin up at him. “What do you think about getting a dog?”
Jake’s entire face lights up. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. I've been thinking about it for weeks. This place has a yard, we’re both home more often now that the team’s based here, and…” I shrug. “I think I’m ready for the responsibility. Practice for eventual offspring.”
“What kind of dog?”
“I was thinking we could go to the shelter. See who needs us.” I trace a pattern on his chest. “I’ve always been partial to the older ones. The ones other people pass by.”
Jake’s quiet for a moment, his hands stroking up and down my back. “The survivors.”
“Exactly.”
He kisses the top of my head. “You know what? I think your horoscope might be onto something.”
Three hours later, we’re standing in the adoption area of the Blue Ridge Animal Rescue, surrounded by the sounds of hopeful barking and the smell of industrial-strength disinfectant.
Jake’s been crouching in front of different kennels for the past twenty minutes, having serious conversations with various dogs like he’s conducting job interviews.
“What about this guy?” He’s stopped in front of a kennel housing a medium-sized mutt with graying fur around his muzzle and the most soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen.
I read the card attached to the gate. “Ranger. Nine years old. Owner surrender due to housing issues. Good with kids and other animals. Needs someone patient—he’s shy at first.”
Ranger is pressed against the back of his kennel, watching us with cautious hope. His tail gives the tiniest wag when Jake extends his fingers through the chain link.
“Hey there, buddy,” Jake says softly. “What’s your story?”
One of the volunteers, a college-aged girl with kind eyes, appears beside us. “Ranger’s been here for four months. He’s a sweet boy, but most people want puppies. His previous owner had him for six years before they had to move somewhere that didn’t allow pets.”
My heart clenches. Six years of love and stability, then abandonment through no fault of his own. “Can we meet him?”
“Of course! Let me get the key.”
Five minutes later, we’re in one of the meet-and-greet rooms with Ranger, who’s sitting as far from us as possible while still keeping us in sight. Jake sits on the floor, making himself less intimidating, and pulls a small bag of treats from his pocket.
“When did you—”
“Stopped at the front desk while you were filling out paperwork,” he says without taking his eyes off Ranger. “Figured we might need these.”
He tosses a treat halfway between himself and the dog, then settles back against the wall. “No pressure, boy. We’ve got time.”
I sit beside Jake, marveling at his patience. This is the same man who once disarmed a bomb with thirty seconds left on the timer–at least according to one of his Navy teammates who visited two months ago–but he’s willing to sit here for as long as it takes for a scared dog to trust him.
It takes fifteen minutes. Ranger creeps forward for the treat, then retreats. Then comes a little closer for the next one. Finally, he’s close enough for Jake to extend his hand, letting Ranger sniff before attempting any contact.
When Ranger finally leans into Jake’s touch, pressing his graying head against Jake’s palm, I feel something in my chest go soft and warm.
“I think he likes you,” I whisper.
“He’s got good taste.” Jake scratches behind Ranger’s ears, rewarded with the dog’s first real tail wag. “What do you think, Daze? Ready to give this old boy a new start?”
I watch as Ranger, growing braver, steps closer to investigate me. His tail starts wagging harder when I offer my hand, and when I scratch under his chin, he makes a soft huffing sound that might be contentment.
“I think,” I say, looking between Jake and Ranger, “we found our plant upgrade.”
Jake’s smile could power half of North Carolina. “Ranger Ryder. Has a nice ring to it.”
“Ranger Jonas-Ryder,” I correct. “We’re not married yet.”
“Yet,” Jake repeats, grinning. “I’ll take it.”
An hour later, we’re loading Ranger into the back of Jake’s truck along with enough supplies to outfit a small army. Dog bed, food, toys, leash, collar, and approximately thirty different treats because Jake couldn’t decide which ones Ranger might prefer.
“You know,” I say as we pull out of the parking lot, Ranger settling into his new bed like he’s been riding with us his whole life, “my horoscope was right. New life entering our world.”
Jake reaches over to squeeze my hand. “Better read tomorrow’s for clues as to what we’re adopting next. A cat. A goat. Lots of plant upgrades out there.”
I glance back at Ranger, who’s watching the world go by with quiet curiosity. “Actually, I think I’m good with letting the future surprise me.”
“Even better,” Jake says, bringing my hand to his lips. “I was getting tired of competing with horoscopes for your attention.”
He’s being ridiculous. “Jealous of astrology now?”
“Darlin’, when it comes to you, I’m jealous of everything that takes your focus off me. Give it time, and I’ll bet I get jealous of ole Ranger.”
Ranger chooses that moment to poke his head between our seats, sniffing Jake’s neck and giving him a lick.
“Looks like I’m the one who’ll have to learn to share,” I tell Jake, scratching Ranger’s ears.
“Nah. He’s gonna be a momma’s boy. But I suppose I can make room in our relationship for this old survivor. And what is it they say when couples have a kid? You don’t think you have it in yourself to love more, and an additional child arrives, and you just do.”
I suppose he’s right. There are days I feel like I can’t possibly love him more, and then I do.
As we head home with Ranger snoring in his bed and Jake’s hand warm over mine, I realize life doesn’t need to be predicted to be perfect.
Some futures you don’t read in the stars—you build them, one ordinary, extraordinary day at a time.
The End
Brie’s story is up next in Only the Lovely…
She vanished from Monaco without a trace. Now she’s back—and she might be the only one who can save everything I’ve built.
Three years ago, I met a woman who made me forget the world expected me to be a polished, controlled heir to a billion-dollar empire.
Sophie was brilliant, captivating, unforgettable—and gone by sunrise.
I searched half of Europe for her, but the woman I fell for might as well have been a fever dream.
Until today.
Because the woman sitting across from me in a KOAN security briefing isn’t Sophie at all.
She’s Brie Anderson—an undercover operative assigned to investigate the blackmail ring threatening to destroy my newest venture, The Sanctuary, the luxury Manhattan club I built to prove I’m more than my last name.
Someone inside my organization is weaponizing desire, using The Sanctuary to steal corporate secrets from the country’s most powerful people.
They’re selling that intelligence.
They’re escalating their threats.
They must be stopped.
Working with Brie means stepping straight back into the fire—into the connection I’ve never been able to replicate, the woman who looked at me once and saw the man beneath the curated facade. But she’s here on assignment, keeping her distance while we navigate a web.
The problem is simple: I’ve never stopped wanting her.
And now that she’s real—Brie, not the ghost I chased—I’m not letting her disappear again.
Even if protecting her means risking my family’s name.
Even if stopping this conspiracy means tearing down the life I’ve built.
Because some things are worth any price.
And she’s at the top of that very short list.