Epilogue
Chandler
Three months later…
“A wedding and a baby shower was a genius idea. Pure genius.” Gigi pulled me in for a strong hug.
“It was all your granddaughter,” I confessed, my gaze sliding over to my wife.
My wife.
More than any sale or acquisition or any number of zeros in my bank account, making Frankie mine was the most rewarding thing I’d ever accomplished. Every day since I’d asked her to marry me right here at the inn, I’d felt lighter. Free.
“She is something, isn’t she?” Gigi looked at her granddaughter with the kind of pride that couldn’t help but fill me, too.
Heat thrummed through my veins, my gaze traveling back to the woman who held my heart…and carried my baby.
Frankie had holly woven into her hair and a fur shawl draped over her shoulders. A winter goddess in a flowing white dress that fit just a little too damn snug over her chest, her breasts so full now that we were in the last trimester. And sensitive. My new favorite pastime was worshipping them until she came.
“Yeah.”
“They both are.” Her gaze softened—saddened—a little when she looked at Lou.
Frankie’s twin was in a deep emerald dress standing by her side. She looked happy, there was no question. But as someone who’d seen her that night at the house after she’d read her own label, there was a weight about her. Frankie still wouldn’t tell me what was on it, and I wouldn’t ask. It was obviously something a whole lot more than the responsibility of the inn that she’d shouldered so effortlessly.
“She’ll figure it out. Whatever it is,” I assured her quietly, knowing it weighed on Gigi to have given her the message.
Four months with the Kinkades were plenty to appreciate Lou’s understated resilience.
“Congratulations, son.” Tom appeared, pushing Mom in her wheelchair over to me, and drew me into a hug.
The last three months hadn’t been a walk in the park. Dozens upon dozens of video conference calls not only to get GC Holdings back on its feet, but to finally hand over the reins of the Collins Corporation to the capable people who’d watched me bury myself in the quest for its success for too long. But thanks to Tom, it all got worked out, and when it did, he officially retired.
“Thanks.” I held him close. I didn’t call him dad because at this point in our lives it didn’t seem right, but out of all the words I could use to describe him—friend, mentor, business partner, love of Mom’s life—it was the qualities of a father he most represented.
I pulled back and looked down at Mom, feeling the familiar pang in my chest.
“What a beautiful wedding. The two of you look so in love.” As she said it, her head tipped back to Tom. “Thank you for inviting us…”
“Chandler.” I smiled, even though it hurt.
“Oh, how wonderful. My son is named Chandler…” She trailed off, her gaze turning foggy like it did every time the present tangled with the past.
She rarely remembered me now; the regression of her memory happened quickly after we’d told her about the baby. I knew it was going to happen—thought I was prepared for it, but I wasn’t sure it was something one could ever prepare for. The first time she looked at me like a stranger, I thought I would break, but Frankie was there, holding me together.
Sometimes light isn’t the only way out of the darkness.
She might not remember, but she was still here. She still smiled every time we brought her candles. She still celebrated every time Frankie told her about the baby and showed her ultrasound photos. And she still loved to tell her stories about Friendship, and the inn, and the monarchs.
Her memories might not be there, just like that first generation of butterflies that migrated south in the fall, but there was an instinct that drew her back to me. Instinct that made her always share memories of when I was a kid. At the park. At the beach. Instinct that brought her back to a place she knew without knowing. A place where I still felt her love.
Only the future revisits the past.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I murmured and bent down and hugged her.
She didn’t remember me, but she hugged me like she had all my life, especially in the moments when she was happy for me.“Me too, Chandler. Me too.”
I straightened, and Gigi, seeing that I needed a moment to collect myself, stepped forward.“Laura, I’m Gigi, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
They’d met a dozen times before, but Mom was always meeting new people nowadays. Except Tom. And for that—for him, I was grateful.
I turned instinctively to Frankie, her gaze tangling with mine.
“Go,” Gigi murmured, shooing me in the direction of my wife, and then gleefully diving into how she and her premonition preserves were responsible for today’s wedding. It was a story she’d told Mom a dozen times, but Gigi loved to tell it and Mom never remembered it, so it worked out for the both of them.
I wove through the crowd, following the string that brought me to her.
“Chan—”
I cut her off with a kiss. One that was heavy and slow like an anchor mooring me to her.
Nox cleared his throat. “You want us to cut the party sooner?”
I looked at Frankie and smiled, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and hooded eyes.
“I think Lou would be pretty mad if you pulled the fire alarm.”
“Who said anything about a fire alarm?” Nox laughed. “I have a better idea.” When I looked at him, he smirked and added, “A little ghosting goes a long way.”
When I looked at Frankie, she drew her fingers across her lips like she was zipping them closed, effectively revealing who had been her accomplice when we’d stayed here all those months ago.
My eyes widened, and then I laughed. “You know,” I said, “we never got Frankie’s sleeping bag back from when you took it.”
His head cocked, and he grinned. “I never took a sleeping bag.” With that, he winked and walked away.
“Seriously?” I turned to Frankie.
She shrugged. “He insists it wasn’t him.”
“Interesting,”I murmured and pressed my lips to her forehead, wishing I could carry her upstairs right now and finally get her alone, but I wouldn’t.
“Thank you for everything, Lou. You, too, Max.” I smiled at my sister-in-law and her cousin, who’d supplied all of the flowers for the celebration. “This is incredible.”
Today—our wedding was the soft opening for the Lamplight Inn. Lou had spent two weeks of sleepless nights and endless preparation to open its doors for tonight and welcome friends and family for our wedding celebration, and when the weekend was over, it would be the public’s turn.
“Of course.” Lou smiled back.
“Anything for family,” Max added, and then tipped his head to Lou. “You’ve got a good setup here. I really think you should add wedding services to your business plan.”
Lou blushed. “Let’s just get it open to the public first and see where it goes.”
“Speaking of opening day. How many arrangements did you say you needed?” Max was supplying fresh flowers for the lobby on Monday.
“I’ll show you.” Lou hooked her arm in his and led him away, leaving Frankie and me alone in the sea of people.
And I wasn’t going to waste a second of it. I pressed my mouth back to hers, my tongue sliding along the seam of her lips that instantly melted open for me. The preparation…the ce remony…the whole day had flown by, and having to share her with other people for most of it wasn’t something that I was used to anymore.
“Chandler…” She sighed and pulled back, catching her breath in small bursts. “We can’t.”
“It’s our wedding. We can do whatever we want,” I said, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her to my front.
“No, we can’t,” she murmured, her face glowing.
I lowered my head and rasped next to her ear, “I never hear you complaining when I do whatever I want to you.”
She shivered and reached for my hand. “You’re right. I’m convinced,” she said, pulling me toward the hall. “Let’s go upstairs.”
“Are you sure? You’re supposed to be the resilient one.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Her head tipped up, her eyes smoldering. “You’re my husband, and I want you now.”
Fuck. Well, there was no staying now—not without every wedding guest getting a front row show to how fucking hard I was for my wife.
She took my hand and started to lead me toward the stairs.
“Francesca!” Gigi called, her swash of freshly dyed red hair appearing in front of us.
I stepped behind Frankie, using her and our baby as a shield for my arousal.
“Where are you two off to?”
My and Frankie’s eyes collided, and then she had an answer. She always had an answer.
Frankie leaned forward and said in a loud whisper, “We’re making sure there are no ghosts left upstairs.” That was my wife. “Don’t tell anyone. We don’t want them to worry.”
Gigi’s eyes went round, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Your secret is safe with me.”
I caught the old woman wink before Frankie pulled me up the stairs. We made it to the first landing before Gigi’s voice rang out once more.
“Oh, Francesca!”
I bit back a groan and watched Frankie look back.
“That reminds me. I have your sleeping bag.”
My and Frankie’s eyes crashed together. Gigi had been the one to take Frankie’s sleeping bag that first day? By the time we looked back, Gigi’s bright red perm was bobbing through the crowd.
“The whole time…”
Frankie threw back her head and laughed as she pulled me the rest of the way to the second floor.We made it without any other interference, but we didn’t make it into our room before my mouth was back on hers.
We bumped and banged into walls and doors, our hands too busy unraveling our clothes to pay enough attention to our surroundings. I was panting by the time I closed our door, and Frankie’s dress had fallen so low on her shoulders, the edges of her nipples peeked out from the fabric.
“You’re incredible,” I rasped, drinking in the sight of her, my very own flushed Greek goddess.
“Chandler…”
I pulled her back into my arms, my mouth branding hers. Desire burned away space and clothes. It charred sounds and surroundings. It engulfed everything until there was nothing left but the way our bodies melted together. The way Frankie rose up over me, my hands roaming her stomach and breasts as she rode my cock hard, chasing the release we both needed.
Hopefully the music below hid the way she screamed.
“I love you, Mrs. Collins,” I said a little while later, the two of us lying in bed, listening—feeling—the happiness surrounding us .
“I love you, too, Mr. Collins,” she murmured, giving her ass a little wiggle where it was pressed against my cock.
I let out a low groan, feeling my body start to stiffen. “Frankie…”
“Do you think they’re wondering where we went?”
“Gigi has our excuse,” I grunted and pressed my lips to the corner of her neck. “We’re ghost hunting before the grand opening.”
“And if no one down there believes in ghosts?” She shivered and turned toward me.
I lowered my mouth to hers. “Then I guess I should make you scream again to prove that there are.”
The End.