Epilogue
EPILOGUE
ELENA
“ I think they’re onto us,” I said, motioning to the car on my right.
Zander glanced in my direction, looking ridiculously hot in his black baseball hat and aviator sunglasses. His forearm rested on the steering wheel, even though the engine had been off for a while now.
“I think they’re onto the fact that you really love that ice cream.” He raised that pierced brow.
“It’s really fucking good.”
“I can tell. That’s the same noise you make when I have my head buried between your thighs.”
“It is not!” I argued, causing him to laugh.
“No?” His eyes heated as he leaned forward. “Should I give you a demonstration?”
“Now, you’re just asking to be caught. If we end up with a mob following us to the inn, I’m blaming it on you.” I playfully tried to shove my ice cream cone in his face, but he managed to dodge it effortlessly.
“God, Molly would have my balls.”
“She would,” I agreed. “And since I’m quite fond of them, you need to behave.”
Zander and I had spent the most amazing six months in Europe and beyond. Touring with a bunch of single rock stars had turned out to be an easier adjustment than I’d anticipated. Traveling in luxury accommodations everywhere we went definitely helped. Seriously, those boys lived the high life in every way.
But it was more than that. After getting over my initial shell-shock of meeting them, I found a certain kind of kinship with the members of Manic at Midnight, and seeing the bond they’d formed with Zander only made me love them more.
None of them had ever seriously dated anyone, so I officially became the adopted sister of the group, and I was all for it. They even asked me to join their legal team, and as tempting as it was, I had to pass. While the leap from criminal to contractual law could technically be considered a career move, it would have hardly been a challenge.
I was done playing it safe.
It had taken months of hyping myself up, but eventually, I had gotten myself in front of a laptop and started plotting a story which lead to an actual outline. Many months of self-doubt, tears, and late nights later, I had my first rough draft. My suspense-thriller was a bit sexier than I’d planned on, but when you had a muse like Zander Green, who could really blame you?
Now, I just had to figure out how to sell the damn thing.
After six months of touring, you’d think I’d get tired of it all, but I never did. Every time Zander took that stage, it felt like the first time. I’d never get over the sight of him, all hot and sweaty, with his mouth against that mic as he played his guitar. He’d turn his head, catch my gaze, and give me the most panty-melting smile, knowing the effect he had on me.
I was fairly certain I’d shoved him in every bathroom, closet, and dark corner I could find just so I could get those post-concert quickies in.
“So, let’s place bets now,” he said as I finished my last bite. “Initial reaction to our big news—happy or pissed? Or maybe a combo situation?”
I grinned as butterflies erupted in my stomach. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
ZANDER
Thanksgiving hadn’t really been a thing when I was growing up.
Let me rephrase that. Holidays hadn’t really been a thing when I was growing up.
My mom had tried—or at least, that was what Macon told me—when we were younger. He said she’d sometimes try to make a fancy dinner for Thanksgiving or buy us a few nice things for Christmas, but quickly learned it wasn’t worth my father’s wrath when he realized how much it had cost.
We couldn’t be wasting money on food and clothes when he had booze to buy after all.
The first time I sat down to a proper Thanksgiving dinner was after I met the Creeds. I had barely started working there, and I was convinced they’d only invited me out of pity, but I didn’t want to upset my boss.
He was mother-fucking Lance Creed.
That was the day that I realized a family could be something more than blood. Their table was filled with other “strays,” as I liked to call them—people who had come into their life and become ingrained in it.
Just like I eventually did.
For a long time, I thought the Creeds would be my only family, and then I went back home to finally burn the bridges of my past.
Instead, I’d found my future.
“We’re here.” Elena looked at me with anticipation in her eyes. It wasn’t the first time we’d been back to Ocracoke since we’d left for the tour a year ago, but it was the first time since?—
“Let’s go, Trouble!” she demanded, throwing the door open. “I want baby snuggles.”
I chuckled, quickly following her. “Okay, but you’re gonna have to beat me there.” I took off in a run, hearing her curse behind me.
Marin and Macon’s daughter, Naomi Danielle Green, had been born this past December and was the perfect mixture of the two of them. Since Elena and I were now home-based in Los Angeles, we didn’t get to see her as much as we would like, but Marin and Elena spoke on the phone at least once a day.
Which was why our little secret was killing her.
We didn’t bother knocking.
The house was filled with people anyway. Molly had been trying to make this particular dream a reality for years—a By the Bay Thanksgiving.
She and Jake had invited their entire family, their friends, and their friends’ families.
It was chaos, and I was pretty sure the blonde dictator was loving every minute.
There were screaming kids everywhere, and I narrowly missed one colliding with me the second we walked through the threshold.
Elena snorted out a laugh. “You’re no superstar here, Trouble.”
“Thank God for that.” I grinned.
“We’re here,” Elena hollered. “Where’s my niece?”
“Outside,” I answered her, seeing everyone gathered on the lawn, enjoying the mild fall weather.
I knew the moment Marin spotted us when we stepped outside.
A high-pitched feminine squeal filled the air, and the two best friends met in a giant hug.
A smirk tugged at my lips because I knew what was about to go down.
Macon came up to us with Naomi on his hip.
Elena immediately reached out with her hands. “Gimme.”
Naomi gave her a slobbery smile, her fist halfway shoved in her mouth as Macon handed her over. I’d thought it would be weird to see my brother as a father, but he was sort of a natural at it. Considering neither of us had been shown, growing up, what a good father was supposed to be like, it gave me hope that I might be up to the job.
When the time came, obviously…
“How was your flight?” Macon asked as I took a look around the lawn.
Molly wasn’t kidding. Everyone was here. Dean and a very pregnant Cora were playing a game of cornhole with their daughter while Lani and Taylor watched on. Their son was in his arms, half asleep.
“It was good. Quiet.”
“I can’t believe you flew here on a private jet.” He rolled his eyes.
“Asher insisted,” I told him, shrugging. “He wasn’t using it, and I doubt I would have made it here unscathed otherwise.”
“He has a point.”
“Oh my God! It’s?—”
“Are you going to do that every time I see you?” I turned to see Millie coming up with Aiden.
She held his arm as his service dog flanked the other side.
“Hell yes, I am,” she teased. “Got to keep you humble.”
“That’s what I have my w?—”
Her eyes widened as her head snapped down to look at my left hand. Marin must have heard as well because, suddenly, she was staring at Elena, her mouth gaped wide open.
“What the fuck is that?” Marin pointed to the glittering diamond ring on Elena’s hand—and the platinum band beside it. “Did you?—”
I looked over at Elena and broke out into a giant, shit-eating grin.
“We got married.”
“You got married?” Marin practically shouted.
“When?” Macon asked.
The lawn went silent.
Well, I guessed that was one way to tell everyone.
“Last month,” Elena answered.
“You’ve been married for a month, and you didn’t tell me?”
I had to hold back a laugh, noticing the way Marin hadn’t included Macon in that sentence.
“We wanted to tell you in person,” I explained.
And we were kind of enjoying our month-long honeymoon…
But that was clearly irrelevant right now.
“Why didn’t you tell us, you know, when it happened? We could have been there.”
“You know I never really wanted a wedding, Marin,” Elena said, her voice softening as she placed a tender kiss on our niece. “I know it’s not how you would have wanted it, but believe me, it was exactly how I did. It was perfect.”
It was perfect.
I’d been wanting to propose for a while. I just didn’t know how. That fucking ring had been burning a hole in my pocket for weeks. One particularly tame day in LA, we were walking down the street and happened to pass a bridal shop, and it hit me.
I sent her off to go grab us coffee—something I hated doing because I always got recognized—and I darted into the bridal shop.
I pulled out my phone and showed them the photo of Elena in that black dress, and sure enough, they had it.
When she came back, I had the dress and the ring and a proposal.
We had flown to Spain, and I’d married her in the same dress she had worn when we shared our first kiss.
Luckiest man in the damn world.
Marin eyed her friend for a moment, and then, suddenly, tears were falling down her cheeks. “You’re really married?”
Elena nodded, her own eyes glassy. With all the emotions flowing, Macon decided it was time to snatch back the precious cargo and pulled Naomi into his arms.
“So, we’re sisters again?”
“We never stopped being sisters,” Elena pressed. “But, yeah, we even have matching last names again.”
Marin let out another squeal and then launched herself at me, throwing her arms around me. I grunted from the impact, making everyone laugh.
“You’re the best brother-in-law ever!”
“Thanks?”
She let me go and turned back to Elena. “You must tell me everything. Do you have pictures? You didn’t do a courthouse thing, did you?” The questions kept coming as the two of them headed for the house.
Elena flashed a mischievous smile over her shoulder, and I laughed.
Wait until they find out she’s pregnant.
Thank you for reading The Bridges I’ve Burned .