Epilogue
James
My nerves are like tiny gnats, buzzing through my bloodstream. Which is a truly disgusting analogy, and something that would totally make for a great sci-fi movie, but should be banned from my brain forever.
“Are you all good, son?” Tank appears beside me and squeezes my shoulder. It feels like it’s part warning, part encouragement, like he doesn’t know which I need more.
But if he thinks there’s any chance I’m running from this, from today, then he hasn’t been paying attention the last few months. Sure, I’ve got nerves—any man on his business’s opening day would feel the same way. But that’s not why I’m nervous.
I scan the patio area until I find Winnie. The pressure in my chest loosens. Knowing she’s here, knowing she’s mine.
Correction— almost mine.
I give Tank the side-eye. “I’m good. Don’t you have other things to worry about? Perhaps other people ?” I watch as he squirms.
“Naw, I’m all right,” he says, a little too casually, even as he searches the crowd the same way I just did.
If that’s how he wants to play it. Fine. Keep telling yourself that, Pops. And we’ll all keep pretending we believe you.
“I’m proud of you, son. Opening day already looks like a success,” Tank says.
It does. And though I care—a LOT, actually—there’s something even bigger on my mind.
“It’s in no small part to the people standing alongside me. So, thank you.”
It hasn’t been what I’d call easy relinquishing control and letting other people step up and do more with Dark Horse.
Winnie has been integral in helping me, running interference as needed, and putting me in time out when I got overwhelmed with all the peopleing.
The time-out closet got a lot of use in the past few months.
And not just for me to calm down alone. The make-out closet would be just as apt a name.
My eyes find Winnie again. She’s talking to Kyoko and gesturing to something at the bar.
I watch her lips as they curve into a smile, the tiny flash of her tattoos peeking out from one sleeve, tattoos I’m now very familiar and maybe slightly obsessed with.
Winnie tugs on her ponytail, something she does when nervous or excited.
When she sees me looking this time, she throws her arms wide and mouths, WHAT ?
I smile, a full one, loving the way even from afar it seems to melt her. I point toward the building and mouth back, Closet .
Her brows shoot up, and I can see the hesitation that quickly gives way to something else as she bites her lip. I can read her next word clearly since I’m already staring at her mouth.
Now?
I nod, my expression turning serious, giving her no room for argument. She smiles, a secret one just for me, and begins to cut her way through the crowd, slowing only a little to say brief hellos.
“Well, looks like you’ve got somewhere to be,” Tank says with a sly grin.
He grabs me in one of his famous hugs. Ever since I’ve gotten as tall as he is, our hugs have been more of a friendly competition.
He squeezes. I squeeze back harder. He chuckles, which gives me room to tighten my hold. He grunts and his arms become pythons around my middle until my feet are off the ground. This is new.
“Have you been … working out?” I grunt, struggling to breathe.
He gives me a last squeeze and drops me, grinning. “Maybe.”
There’s a sheepish look about him, and I don’t need to ask why he suddenly feels the need to hit the gym again. Why does any man start doing wild things? A woman.
And maybe it’s because I’ve found my own that the idea of my dad with someone doesn’t sting the way it might have before.
“Well, isn’t this cozy? Two of my favorite Grahams having a hug-off.” Chevy sidles up to the both of us.
Over the past six months, he and I have formed a mostly easy friendship. I say mostly because keeping his sister happy—and paying her enough she could move out of his house—has made Chevy happy. He’s also given me two speeding tickets, I think as a way of keeping me on my toes.
Also, I was speeding. So that’s on me.
Tank gives Chevy a hearty back slap and then some kind of complicated handshake the two of them developed. I’m still rolling my eyes when Dad steps back from Chevy, then leans close to my ear.
“Don't be nervous,” Dad whispers. “She’ll say yes.”
When he pulls back, I stare at him, stunned. No one knows. No one.
“How did you …?”
Tank winks. “It’s a dad thing.”
Chevy glances at me and then at Tank’s retreating back. “Hm. A dad thing?”
“Yeah … just brewery stuff,” I say.
Months ago, I took Chevy out to Backwoods Bar, asking for permission to marry Winnie.
I just never said when . He made me wait two days, saying he needed to mull it over .
And I unorganized his pantry the next time I was at his house with Winnie.
We’re in no way even, but I’m trying not to escalate things.
Pat and Chevy can have that as their thing.
And if I don’t tell exactly when I’m going to propose to his sister, well, that’s just too bad.
“Today’s the day, huh?” he asks.
Chevy can’t know too. There’s no way I’m that obvious. “What?”
His smile shifts into a smirk. “The brewery opening?”
“Right. Yes. Hey—I’ve got to ask Winnie about … the servers.”
“Sure. The servers. I’m sure she’ll say yes to whatever you ask about the servers .”
Chevy winks, and okay, so fine. Two people have guessed I’m about to propose. Better get on with it before someone posts about it on Neighborly.
“James,” Chevy calls as I’m starting to walk away. “You still have my blessing. So long as you keep looking at my sister like she’s the only woman in the world.”
I raise my brows. “Isn’t she?”
His laughter fills my ears as I make my way through the crowd to the inside of the building, which is still roped off.
We’re almost out of time, and I’m feeling sweat gather at my lower back as I reach the closed door. My hand slides into my pocket where my fingertips first brush against the seed from Winnie’s very first day of work. So far, it’s made it through multiple washes and outlasted several pairs of jeans.
Today, the seed has company. I was too afraid to carry the ring around in my pocket for too long, though I bought it the same week I asked Chevy’s permission. It’s been hidden in one of my boots in the closet.
I hesitate outside the closet, which means I get noticed.
“Hey!” Kyoko calls from the bar across the room. “Shouldn’t you be …” Her eyes go to the closet door, and she smirks. Hiring her at Winnie’s insistence might be the single best decision I’ve made. “Never mind. I can stall for a few minutes if needed.”
I nod, but before I can answer, the closet door flies open and Winnie drags me inside by my shirt collar. I let her move me where she wants, happy to be manhandled by this woman. She slams the door before pushing me up against it and yanking my mouth down to hers.
She’s greedy and desperate—or, knowing Winnie and her detailed brain, just very aware how little time we have.
She pulls back, breathing heavy. “You ask me to meet you five minutes before opening and then hesitate outside the door. Pull it together, boss .”
I’m torn between wanting to kiss her some more, wanting to drop to my knee immediately, and wanting to postpone this for a less rushed time.
I catch sight of OC, now the official Dark Horse brewcat, by the window, licking one paw and staring at me with a look that says, Get on with it.
I thought about attaching the ring to his bow tie, but that felt like a few steps too far.
Winnie’s eyes contain an ocean of meaning, an ocean of love, behind her glasses. Her fingertips trace my jaw, one of her favorite things to do. I can’t say I mind it either.
And in that moment, I know I can’t wait.
“Winchester Boyd, you’re my everything. My fire, my tender warrior, my brilliant partner.”
“Aw, I love it when you go all mushy on me.”
“I’m not mushy,” I say, putting the deep growl in my voice I know she loves. “Okay. Only a little. Only for you .”
“Well, is that all the mush, or do I need to prepare to be more twitterpated?”
“I don’t know what that means. But no, I’m not done.
” I draw in a deep breath. “Winnie, you’ve been the best partner I could ask for with Dark Horse.
You’re creative and full of brilliant ideas, resourceful and scrappy.
I couldn’t have done any of this without you.
But I think it’s time for you to take on a new role.
This one just doesn’t suit you anymore. Which is why—”
Her eyes suddenly go wide and she interrupts me. “I quit.”
My hands tighten on her hips. “What? You … don’t want to work with me any more?”
“I promised myself I wouldn’t let you fire me again, that I’d quit first. This sounds like a firing speech. Much nicer than the other two, but still.”
Her eyes go a little watery, and I sigh heavily, digging in my pocket for the ring.
I manage to get it and the seed, too, and I grab her hand, dropping both into her palm.
She stares down at the ring, a square cut black onyx in a vintage setting—what I thought was the perfect ring for Winnie’s signature style.
I drag a hand through my hair. “Clearly, I still fail with words. I was trying to ask you to marry me, not firing you.”
“Oh,” she breathes, taking a small step back.
Still cradling the ring in her palm, she picks up the seed between two fingers.
“Is this—”
“What you gave me on your first day. I’ve kept it in my pocket ever since. It grounds me when I’m stressed. Just like you ground me. And you help me …”
I jam my mouth closed, and Winnie tilts her head. “I help you what?”
“It’s stupid.”
“Tell me.”
I can’t deny her. Especially not when she gets bossy. “You ground me, and you help me fly. See? It sounds stupid.”
“It’s not stupid,” she whispers. “I love it.”
Winnie’s eyes well up with tears, and I want to wipe them away, to wrap her in my arms. But this whole conversation has gone in a very different direction from what I imagined, so I’m still not sure where we stand. I did propose, right?
When she holds out the seed to me, my stomach drops. “You’re giving it back?”
“Only so you can keep it in your pocket. And so I can better examine this gorgeous ring.”
I take the seed, tucking it safely back in place. Winnie turns the ring over in her hands, and though I don’t think she’s the type to say yes or no because of the size or kind of jewelry, I really want her to like it.
I’d also REALLY like to move to the part where she says yes.
“So, you just thought you’d spring this on me five—now TWO—minutes before the grand opening?”
Okay, so yeah. The timing sucks. So does my proposal. If I were grading, I’d give me a solid D+.
But I’m done waiting and second-guessing. I step forward and wrap my arms possessively around Winnie’s back. “I don’t want to take one more step toward my future without securing you as a part of it.”
“Oh,” she says again, a little breathlessly. But then she smiles up at me, an overwrought, vulnerable smile that shoots straight through me in the best way. “In that case, same.”
“Same? Does that mean yes?”
Winnie slips the ring on her finger, and it is a perfect fit, just like I hoped it would be. I’ve been sneaking measurements and secretly working on the design with Val. Winnie slides her hands up my chest and around my neck, beaming with the brightness of an exploding star.
“Yes. James Graham, I would love to marry you.”
I can breathe. I mean, obviously, I was breathing, but it was like going through the motions.
Now, I take in breaths of air that feel fresh and new.
Because Winnie said yes to being my forever.
And I do mean forever. I want the kind of love my parents had.
Hopefully, Winnie and I will have more time.
“I love you,” Winnie says, leaning up to press a kiss on my lips. “But I have to ask—can I unquit?”
“I’ll take it under consideration with the board. Collin may have paperwork for you to fill out.”
She groans. “Collin and his paperwork.”
There is a frantic banging on the door. “Guys!” Kyoko says. “I held off and now Pat has the mic. I think he’s about to start singing.”
Now I groan, starting to pull away, taking Winnie with me. Because this woman definitely isn’t leaving my side anytime soon.
“We’re coming,” I say, but Winnie pulls me to a stop as my hand grabs the doorknob.
“One last question,” she says. “How do you feel about VERY short engagements?”
* * *
THE END
(but keep reading for a bonus epilogue…)