Epilogue LIAM
Epilogue
L IAM
Two months later
“That’s it, we’re fucked.”
Zoe sighed, rolling her eyes as she put the last of the groceries away. “No, we’re not.”
She rolled her eyes at me all the time, so it hardly gave me pause. I held up the box of tea. Generic-brand tea. “This is a sin. My mum will take one look at this and immediately remove herself from the premises. You cannot buy cheap tea when my British mother is about to stay with us for two bloody weeks.”
Zoe turned, her hands parked on her hips and a patient expression on her perfect face. “Liam,” she said.
I tossed the box onto the counter with a grimace. “What?”
She walked closer, setting her hands on my chest. Immediately, I wanted to kiss her. I always wanted to kiss her, whether she was touching me or not, but the moment she made contact, some internal switch flipped on in my head, and I couldn’t function until I tasted her lips. When I ducked down to do just that, she pressed her fingers over my mouth to stop me.
“Did you look in the pantry before having your little temper tantrum?”
“No,” I said, the sound muffled behind her fingers.
Her lips hooked up in a smug fucking grin that meant only one thing.
I yanked her hand away from my mouth and ducked down to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Fine. Rub it in my face later.” I deepened the kiss, slowly sucking on her bottom lip while my hand sneaked around to slide over her backside. “Much later.”
She laughed against my lips, humming contentedly when my tongue teased hers.
Her kisses were my favorite thing in the entire world. The fact that I’d gone thirty years without knowing what they felt like was a bloody tragedy.
Zoe pulled away, swatting at my stomach when I tried to tug her back with my hand fisted tight in her shirt. “Look at the tea in the pantry. She’ll have plenty of options. Now keep your hands to yourself, because we have to leave to pick up your mom in, like, ten minutes, and Mira’s hair is still a disaster.”
I eyed the explosion of curls falling around her shoulders. “Just Mira’s?”
She narrowed her gaze, and I held my hands up while I backed away.
“Whose fault is that?” she asked dangerously.
“Yours, really. You walked through the room wearing that shirt, and you bloody well know I can’t handle myself.”
Even as she let out a beleaguered sigh, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Luckily for me, Mira had been napping, because even after two months—the greatest two months of my entire life—I couldn’t see Zoe in the Denver sweatshirt that bore my name without turning into a raving, greedy beast.
Her hair had been in a neat braid, but I’d followed her straight into the kitchen and pressed her against the fridge for a fierce, brain-melting kiss as I shoved my hands up underneath that sweatshirt. At her pleading, I turned her around for a frantic ravaging against the kitchen island, where I gripped her hips and had to clench my teeth to keep from shouting when she arched her back. She almost had me blacking out because it felt so bloody good.
My girl liked it when I couldn’t get enough of her, as it turned out.
And that suited me just fine.
Everything about our life suited me, really. We’d slid into the regular season with ease, Zoe and Mira becoming fixtures at the home games, usually joining Rochelle in her box. But tomorrow, with my mum, they’d be sitting in the stands.
I loved having Zoe there, watching me do my job. I loved having her wait for me afterward, and I loved scooping Mira into my arms as we left the stadium together. I loved crawling into bed with Zoe, even if my body was too beat up to do anything but hold her.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to play forever, but not playing anymore wasn’t sounding so bad either.
Zoe had taken to adding some of her artwork to the house and swapping out furniture for things that suited our taste. A month after our first date, she’d finally decided to place her home on the market. It made sense, and thankfully, the new neighbors were a kind, young family with a son just about Mira’s age.
Even though we’d kept all the family pictures up, Chris and Amie’s home felt like ours. And there was something very right about that.
Zoe was studying me as she nimbly fixed her braid, tying the end with a black band and a tiny smile on her face.
“What?” I asked, tugging her closer. Her eyes fluttered shut when I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Are you nervous to have your mom here?” She twined her arms around my waist and looked up into my face.
I shook my head. “Nothing to be nervous about. She’ll probably like you better than she likes me.”
Zoe laughed.
“And Mira,” I drawled. “She’s already spoiling her to bits, isn’t she?”
“A little. The dollhouse with the family of ducks was a big hit, though.”
I hummed.
Zoe’s hands fisted around the material of my shirt. “Did you tell her about the letter we found?”
“Not yet.” I kissed her forehead again, letting my mouth brush over her skin. “I don’t know if I need to. I was really the only one who needed to see it, yeah?”
While cleaning out Chris’s desk, Zoe had found the same small container of keys I’d found in one of the drawers. Just down the road at a storage facility, Chris and Amie had a small unit packed with sports memorabilia, some boxes of old Christmas decorations, and three boxes labeled “Chris Important Shit,” written in his horrible penmanship. Why they’d moved the boxes there, we’d never really know. Maybe it was a mistake. Or maybe it was one of those cosmic chess plays, the final move revealed exactly when it made the most sense in all our lives.
Inside one of the boxes were two envelopes: one for me, one for Burke. I’d sent his off as soon as we found it.
In keeping with our friendship, the letter Chris had written to me was short, to the point, and free of bullshit.
Liam,
You’re the best man I know. Don’t fucking fight this, even if you want to. There’s no other man I’d trust to raise her, and eventually, you’ll trust that too. If you’re still pissed at me after you read this, just come shove me a little harder at practice, and you’ll get over it.
Chris
With one hand, I cradled Zoe’s jaw, tracing my thumb over the downy-soft skin of her cheek. “Are you nervous?” I asked.
She sucked in a breath. “A little,” she admitted.
“You’re perfect,” I said in a raspy voice yanked straight from the center of my chest. “She’ll just get to see it now. See why I love you so much.”
Her face was so soft and open and sweet, and she pushed up on the balls of her feet for a lingering kiss. Immediately, I wrapped her in my arms and tilted my head, deepening the kiss as she sighed happily. When she broke away, she exhaled a laugh. “I really need to get that child ready, but now you’re distracting me .”
I was about to distract her more when Mira came running into the room. “Liam, we go get Nanny soon?”
I swept her up in my arms, glancing at the clock. “Bloody hell,” I muttered. “Soon, duck. Zoe needs to fix your hair first.”
She shook her head, the tangled curls whipping around. “It’s so pretty.”
I eyed it skeptically. “Uh-huh.”
She laughed, honking my nose, then wriggled to get down. “Bloody hell, bloody hell,” she yelled as she ran back to her playroom.
Zoe sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “It was only a matter of time,” she whispered.
I scratched the back of my neck. “I’ll, uh, work on that. Better warn Dr. Carol about that one.”
At the look on my face, Zoe laughed, the bright, happy sound filling the room. I tugged her into my arms again and sighed.
“You laugh,” I told her, “but me and the swearing child are your problems now.”
Her eyes gleamed. “Yes, you are.”
“You know I’m going to marry you someday, right?” I whispered against the shell of her ear. She tightened her arms, then tilted her head up for a soft, sweet kiss.
I’d started telling her that about a week after our first date. It couldn’t be helped. We’d already planned so many aspects of our life together. She’d booked my mum’s flights the day after our first date. We’d scheduled a time to go visit Burke at the house in Michigan, to see the place Chris and Amie had loved so much.
We had decided to wait until the spring, mark the passage of a year without Chris and Amie with someone else whose life had been changed just as much as ours had.
Making those plans was easy too, because we knew with complete surety what the future held for the two of us.
“You better marry me,” she said against my lips. “How else are you going to prove me right about picking better for husband number two?”
I growled, swatting her ass as she pulled away on a laugh.
With a playful arch to her eyebrow, she went off in search of our girl.
While I waited for her to return, I dug my hand into the pocket of my pants and pulled out the small box I’d taken to carrying, just in case the moment was right.
The diamond solitaire winked underneath the lights of the kitchen, and I snapped the box shut, tucking it back into place before she returned.
Maybe after the game tomorrow, I thought.
Maybe when it was just us in bed at the end of the day.
Maybe I’d take her out to dinner while my mum was here to babysit.
Maybe while we ate breakfast at the big kitchen island where I’d seen her for the first time.
It was easy to think about the future when all the possibilities felt good and fitting and perfect. I could ask her a hundred ways, and they all felt right, because she was the path I was supposed to take.
Zoe came back into the kitchen, Mira on her back and a smile on her face, and that warm glow sank deep into my chest again.
They were my path, and I couldn’t wait for whatever came next.