Epilogue #2
Carina’s hand slides up my chest, curling into the fabric of my shirt.
“You’re ridiculous,” she murmurs.
“Yeah,” I say softly. “But you said yes.”
Her mouth curves, and then she pulls me down the rest of the way.
The kiss is warm and familiar and somehow brand new all at once, starting soft before deepening as my hand slides to the back of her neck to pull her closer.
Her fingers slide up into my hair, tugging lightly, and for a moment everything else fades into the background.
Behind us, Ivy lets out a loud squeal.
“MAMAMAMA!”
Carina breaks the kiss with a breathless laugh, pressing her forehead against mine.
“Your daughter,” she says.
I glance over her shoulder. Ivy is now wriggling in her highchair, arms raised in a request to be set free.
“Yeah,” I say. “She seems supportive.”
Carina snorts and kisses me again, quick and soft this time, before leaning back to admire the ring once more.
“God,” she murmurs, turning her hand in the light. “It’s beautiful.”
“I had help,” I remind her.
Carina looks toward Ivy. “She has excellent taste.”
I settle into my own seat and slide an arm around Carina’s waist, pulling her chair closer to mine as the quiet of the evening settles around us again.
For a moment it’s just us.
My fiancée. Our kid. Our home.
And the life we somehow managed to build out of all the things we didn’t think we’d survive.
It’s perfect.
Right up until a car door slams somewhere out front. Then another.
Carina’s head tilts slightly. “Did you hear—”
The side gate creaks, and footsteps crunch across the gravel path that runs alongside the house, followed by the low rumble of voices that definitely don’t belong to either of us.
Carina’s head slowly turns toward me. I keep my expression neutral.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing,” I say.
Another car door slams.
This time she doesn’t even bother looking toward the driveway. Her eyes stay locked on mine, narrowing the way they do when she’s seconds away from diagnosing something she doesn’t like.
“Reid Hutchison.”
I shrug one shoulder.
The first person into the yard is Logan, carrying a six-pack of beer he probably thinks constitutes celebratory drinks.
Lulu and Zoe are next, skipping in together as though they’ve already plotted an entire wedding and can’t wait to tell us the details.
Chase is right behind him, already grinning like he’s been waiting all day to be loud about something.
Jake follows at a more reasonable pace, Charlie tucked under his arm and holding Theo in the other, Noah and Meadow excitedly discussing who will get to climb the treehouse first.
Carina slowly turns back to me. “You invited everyone?”
I glance past her shoulder toward the growing crowd filtering into the yard.
“Seemed like a good night for burgers.”
Her jaw drops.
“You invited the entire crew before you even knew my answer?”
Behind her, Ivy spots the newcomers and lets out a delighted squeal, waving the sad remains of her burger like a flag.
Chase points at the ring immediately. “Called it!”
Logan squints at Carina’s hand.
“Well shit,” he says approvingly. “You did good.”
Carina’s gaze snaps back to me.
“What if I’d said no?”
I consider that for half a second, then shrug again. “I’ve already baby-trapped you.”
For a moment she just stares at me, then she bursts out laughing.
Behind her, Charlie reaches the table and scoops Ivy straight out of the highchair like she’s been waiting all day for the job.
“There’s my girl!” She smiles softly, and presses a kiss to Ivy’s sticky cheek.
Ivy squeals again, immediately grabbing a handful of Charlie’s red hair.
Jake claps a hand on my shoulder.
“Congratulations, man.”
I nod once as Carina leans into my side, still shaking her head as she watches the yard fill with people.
“You’re unbelievable, Hutchison.”
I tighten my grip around her waist.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “But you’re marrying me anyway.”
Across the yard, the gate creaks and Viktor steps through, his broad shoulders filling the space as he holds the gate open with one arm.
He pauses just inside the fence, taking in the scene with that same calm, assessing look he brings to the ice—like he’s already calculating the angles of everything happening in front of him.
Heidi slips through next with a nod to him, and the difference between them is immediate.
Viktor stands there like a statue someone forgot to animate, hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket, expression unreadable as he scans the crowd.
Heidi, on the other hand, looks like she’s walked straight out of a rooftop bar somewhere—hair loose, lipstick perfect, wearing a dress that definitely wasn’t chosen with backyard barbecues in mind.
She spots the ring first.
“Oh, shit!” She grins as she crosses the yard. “You actually did it.”
Carina lifts her hand automatically, and Heidi whistles.
“That’s a rock, babe.”
“Don’t encourage him,” Carina mutters.
Viktor reaches us a second later, stopping just long enough to glance down at Carina’s hand. Then he looks at me with a single nod of approval. Which, coming from Viktor, is basically a standing ovation.
Heidi nudges him lightly with her elbow.
“See?” she says. “Some men are capable of commitment.”
Viktor’s gaze flicks toward her.
“I am capable,” he says evenly.
She snorts, grabbing a flute of champagne from a nearby table. “Please. The day you get married is the day hell freezes over.”
“I am Swedish,” he replies, following her. “Hell freezes over frequently.”
Carina bites her lip as she watches them.
Heidi rolls her eyes at Viktor, but there’s a spark in them when she hands him a glass—something sharp and curious and maybe just a little dangerous.
Viktor takes the flute and studies her for a beat, in a quiet, unbothered way of his.
Carina leans closer to me, lowering her voice.
“There’s something weird going on there.”
I watch the two of them for a second. Viktor standing there with his bubbles, analyzing Heidi like a chess board.
“Yeah,” I agree. “Good luck to them.”
Across the yard Chase purposefully shakes and then pops another bottle of champagne so that it fizzes out in a white arc of foam, and the backyard erupts into cheers.
Ivy claps her sticky hands against Charlie’s shoulder like this whole ridiculous celebration was her idea in the first place.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, with my brilliant fiancée tucked against my side and our daughter squealing with delight, I glance toward the treehouse in the corner of the yard, with its ivy climbing stubbornly up the boards the way it always has.
Life’s funny like that.
Loud and messy and somehow still growing anyway.