EPILOGUE
FOUR YEARS LATER
Outside my shop, I look over the ocean just a few feet away, breathing in the salty air, trying to ground myself and enjoy the last minutes of quiet before the exciting part of the day starts.
After Hunter, Nash, Saylor, and North helped fix up this place for me, I started doing readings again in the room Hunter had suggested.
And I love it.
The two things I adore—fixing cars and helping people—are happening under the same roof of a building I’m so incredibly proud of. This dream, now a reality, came true with a little, well, a big help from Hunter.
A month ago, I managed to buy him out. Just like he predicted. Now, this place is completely mine.
Hunter is still running Jones & Sons next door, and Nash is out working the boats.
They both love what they’re doing, and that makes me happy, even though I always worry about Nash at sea.
Thankfully, Hunter has made the wise decision to reduce the workload.
He ensures the boats only head out in good weather.
No one ventures out on the water when a storm is even remotely close to Lubec.
I’m grateful to him for that.
A significant part of my business’s growth is thanks to North.
He’s become my little part-time secretary, handling all the paperwork and, quite literally, working magic for my business.
When Lio is at school, North is in the office next door, scheduling appointments, managing taxes, and doing what he does best—bossing people around.
North is also the one who decides who is allowed to see me for readings. He meticulously vets each person and ensures they’ve signed an NDA. He’s taken every precaution to prevent me from ever being locked away again.
His protectiveness is both cute and deeply reassuring.
He will never let me get hurt again.
Funny enough, despite all the NDAs, word about what I can do has spread throughout Lubec.
Most of the townspeople are okay with it.
Some of them have even had readings with me before.
Sure, there’s chatter, but it’s not the kind of talk that worried me in the past. It’s more curiosity and interest than fear or hate.
I can live with that.
I’m doing what I love, surrounded by people who care about me and support my dreams. Life is good, and I’m profoundly grateful for every moment of it.
I’m just about to turn and walk back inside when someone yells my name from behind me, “Slo!”
I turn, and my smile broadens as I see Saylor jogging toward me.
Thanks to a lot of hard work and physiotherapy, he’s managed to regain most of his strength and mobility.
Aside from the occasional muscle spasm here and there, he’s doing well.
Watching him move with such ease now, it’s hard to believe how far he’s come since waking up.
His determination and resilience have been nothing short of amazing.
He looks incredible, his hair the usual tousled mess that somehow still always seems perfectly in place.
His ocean blue eyes are sparkling with that familiar twinkle, and his grin, revealing those charming dimples, lights up his entire face.
He’s dressed casually yet nicely in his good jeans and a navy hoodie.
Sometimes, when it’s been a few hours since I last saw him, the change in him catches me off guard. I can still picture him as the twenty-three-year-old I fell in love with. But now, he looks his thirty-five-year-old self—more mature, more manly—and one of the men who has a firm grasp on my heart.
“I missed your face,” I say as he comes closer, the warmth in my voice reflecting the depth of my feelings for him. His presence always brings a sense of completeness, a feeling of being exactly where I belong.
The feeling that we’ve made it.
“Then come kiss it…” he grins, leaning in to give me a peck, “… or sit on it, or both.”
“Stop.” I giggle, but he pulls me in for a long, deep kiss, making my heart flutter.
The tingles never stopped.
When he breaks the kiss, he asks breathlessly, “You guys ready?”
“Sure, or at least I am. Let me go fetch North,” I tell him, walking into the shop with him following me inside. He comes to stand next to the car that was brought in earlier today, a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454.
“Well, hello beautiful,” he greets the car, rubbing his hands together.
“Uh-uh!” I point a finger at him. “You’re wearing your nice clothes, and this one is mine!”
He steps up to me and grips my wrist, biting my finger, eliciting a chuckle from me.
Saylor started working for me the day I opened the shop. Initially, he handled only the easy, small jobs, but I taught him everything I learned over the years. Now, he’s as good as I am.
This boy became obsessed with cars and worked his ass off to be able to do this with me.
And I fucking love him for it.
I walk to the back and knock on the office door on the left, expecting North’s rough “Come in.” Instead, the door swings open, and he stands there in front of me.
In all his glorious hotness.
He’s got some gray streaks at his temples, which I find so damn sexy. Whenever I lay in his arms, I love to let my fingers glide through them, feeling the contrast against the rest of his dark, wavy hair. The subtle signs of aging only add to his appeal.
“Ready.” He smiles, leaning in to give me a peck. “Sorry, had to finish up the numbers for this month.”
“All good. I just finished up too,” I assure him, taking his hand.
He leads me out to the shop where Saylor is peering through the Chevelle’s window, his hands cupping around his eyes to block out the light.
“How was it? Was she as polite as she was on the phone?” North asks me about the reading I had half an hour ago, and I nod with a smile.
“It was good. I think she got the closure she needed. And yes, she was very nice. Thanks for vetting her.”
“Good.” North nods as Saylor joins us. “Ready for your second birthday party, little bro?”
“It’s your second birthday party too. Are you ready, Thundercunt?” Saylor teases back.
Every year, Hunter, Tally, and Tim insist on celebrating our second birthdays—the day Nash and North returned from sea and Saylor woke up.
I used to argue that I didn’t deserve to have a second birthday, but they always include me, saying it was the day I survived my, as Hunter puts it, reckless rescue mission.
I’ve stopped resisting and now just go with the flow.
After all, we’re celebrating life, something I can wholeheartedly get behind.
As we enter Shannon’s, I’m immediately enveloped by the warm, cozy atmosphere.
Inside, the tables are closely arranged so we can all sit together.
The sound of lively music fills the air, blending seamlessly with the cheerful buzz of conversation.
Balloons in vibrant colors are strung up around the room.
The delicious aroma of food wafts from the kitchen, and I feel my mouth water.
Children dart about between the tables, their laughter and joyful shrieks creating a backdrop of cheerful noise. Their energy is contagious, and I can’t help but smile at their antics.
Hunter and Nash are standing near the kitchen, deep in conversation with Mac. As we walk over to them, they all turn to greet us with wide smiles.
“Happy second birthday, Mouse,” Mac greets me, already holding out a plate with a shrimp burger and fries to me.
“Thanks, Mac,” I respond, accepting the generously filled plate. The others take plates from Mac, too, each expressing their gratitude.
We find a table among the lively crowd, settling in comfortably, with North and Saylor in front of me and Hunter and Nash by my sides.
“How was your day, pretty girl?” Nash asks, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
“Good, but I missed you,” I reply, turning to share a quick kiss with him.
“What about me?” Hunter grumbles from my other side, his hand gently squeezing my knee.
“Oh, I missed you too.” I smile, leaning in as he kisses my lips and playfully nips at my bottom one.
“Get a room. There are children here,” Tally teases from behind me.
“Yes, and half of them are yours,” I tease back, standing to hug her. “Thank you for hosting this.” I’m careful not to put too much pressure on her small baby bump.
“Hey, only two of them are mine. Plus, one of them belongs to you guys,” she laughs.
I glance over to where Lio is playing with his grandfather, handling a model car. Over the years, his toys have become more intricate, and I adore assembling them with him and Saylor. Lio’s new dream is to become a mechanic, a fact I enjoy rubbing in North’s face whenever I can.
Tim approaches us, holding two little hands. “Hey, Jesse,” I greet the mirror image of Tally, with his raven-black hair and piercing light blue eyes.
“Hey, Sloany.” He grins back.
His younger brother, a blond three-year-old with tear-filled blue eyes, looks up at me, pouting. “Hey, mini-me.” I smile, lifting him to my side. “What’s up, buddy?” His bottom lip quivers adorably.
“I told him he couldn’t play with Lio’s big boy toy,” Tim explains, and I chuckle softly.
“What if we buy you your own little car soon?” I whisper to my boy conspiratorially, and his eyes light up.
“I told you not to spoil him, Sloan,” Tally chides with a glare.
“Your fault for naming him after me. I will spoil every kid who pops out of you rotten,” I reply with a shrug. “But this time, try for a girl. I want to buy some pink stuff,” I say, nodding at her belly.
“I don’t think Tim’s swimmers can produce anything but boys, but I’ll keep you updated,” she quips, and we laugh.
“And after that one, stay off her, little Timmy,” I joke, pointing at Tim, who grins back mischievously.
“No promises. There are still rooms to fill in our big house,” he retorts.
“Babe,” Tally exclaims, her eyes widening in mock horror, making me laugh.
Tim takes Sloan from my arms and reaches for Jesse’s hand again, leading them away, “Let’s go see if we can color with Nan.”