Epilogue
Lark
Keep reminding myself: perfect isn’t the goal, magical is.
—From Lark’s Christmas to-do list
We are very late.
We didn’t leave until there were only a few hours left to close out the year.
And not until my husband made me almost orgasm… Twice. He brought me to the edge, only to pull back.
Then he straightened my clothes…still without fucking me.
Argh! I can’t believe he left me this needy, but he smirked when he saw the disbelief on my face. “I promise, it’s going to be worth it when you finally come. At midnight.” He kissed me firmly, then led me out of the house.
When we walk into Arthur’s townhouse, Otis half bows. "My congratulations, sir, ma’am." He takes our coats, then seems to melt into the closet near the front door.
"How does he do that?" I ask in awe.
"I have a feeling he was born that way," Brody answers, half in jest.
I chuckle.
He leads me down the hallway into the conservatory. The buzz of noises reaches me. All our friends and his family are here.
Summer sees us and a big smile curves her lips.
"There you are." She walks over to us and leans in. Holding my shoulders, she kisses me on both cheeks. "You look incredible.”
“Thanks.” I smile. “I feel incredible.”
"We were wondering when you newlyweds were going to resurface." Sinclair joins us.
He and Brody half hug, half backslap, in the way that men have.
Brody smirks. "Needed to keep my wife to myself for a little while."
“It must be true love.” James walks over to join us. His attention is on Brody’s cuff links.
They have tiny Santa’s hats on them. I couldn’t resist buying them for my husband. I was touched that he wore them right away.
“It is.” Brody pulls me close and kisses my forehead.
“How disgustingly sweet the two of you are.” James sighs. "I managed not to call or message, so as not to disturb your newly-wedded bliss. I hope you noticed?"
"It was exceptionally peaceful not to see your ugly mug." Brody chuckles.
"Your loss." He turns to me. "Wonderful to see you, Lark, and congratulations on the new position."
"Thank you.” I smile at him with genuine fondness.
I understand Brody enough to know that he doesn’t let too many people close. Not even his own brothers. Perhaps, to some extent, his grandfather. But it’s James who’s Brody’s true wingman.
"I have to admit, when I heard the news, I was taken aback. But then it made sense." He shoots Brody a sideways glance. "She’s smarter than you. More patient. More astute. And you delegated so much to her in such a short period of time, it was logical for you to make her the CEO."
Brody frowns. I wonder if he’s going to be pissed off by James’ words. But I should know my husband better. Not once has he been anything but secure in his talents. He puts his arm around my shoulder and draws me close. "Best decision I’ve ever made."
There’s genuine pride in his words.
"I’m not lying when I say she’s the best person for the job. She’s more patient than me. She has the fortitude to not lose her temper with the team. She’ll foster better relations with them."
"Women are more empathetic; it often makes them better leaders." Summer winks at me.
"You won’t find me arguing that," my husband concedes.
James shrugs. "When it comes to managing a kitchen, I’m not so sure.”
All our gazes swivel in his direction.
"Hey, I’m not being sexist. It’s simply a fact.
" He raises his hand. "Being a chef takes long hours, it’s grueling, it needs complete commitment. It’s physically taxing.
Mentally challenging. It’s more than leading a team.
It’s innovating on the spot, thinking on your feet, planning out, having fail safes in place.
It takes a one thousand percent commitment, to the exclusion of having a family or a personal life of any kind. "
"It’s like being a doctor—" Brody begins.
"Exactly." James nods, pleased.
Brody scoffs, “I was being sarcastic.”
“I wasn’t. Doctors are trained to save a life, but we teach you to indulge it." His phone buzzes, but he ignores it. "It falls to us to stir up emotions, awaken pleasure, and create moments worth living for. And all through the power of food.”
He has a point.
"I’ve never heard you speak this eloquently." Nathan joins us. "Not even when we served together, and we’ve been on some tough missions."
That’s right, Brody mentioned how he met James through his brother.
"Taking lives to protect your country and your fellow citizens, can have the effect of dampening your enthusiasm for a lot of things in life." James and Nathan exchange a look.
Then Nathan slaps him on the back. "But you found food.”
"Now, all he needs is a woman to save his soul." Quentin ambles over, with Vivian in tow.
“Or to crack his facade?” Knox, too, joins the crowd.
James takes in the faces of his friends and holds up his hands. “Why do I sense an intervention?”
"Probably, because it is?" Brody snorts.
"Because we’re all married, settled down, and having babies, and now, it’s your turn?" Nathan chuckles.
“I can do without you lot butting into my life.” James scoffs.
“I don’t think it’s us you need to worry about.” Knox nods over his shoulder.
We follow his gaze to where an older woman, with a sleek bob of hair, dressed in a Chanel suit, is seated next to Arthur and Imelda. The three of them have their heads bent close.
“What’s Margot doing here?” James does a double take.
“Who’s Margot?” I take in the wary look in James’ eyes.
“His grandmother.” Brody watches James as if to monitor his reaction. “Thought you didn’t get along with her?”
“She’s a shark, is what she is.” James frowns.
A ripple of surprise runs through the assembled crowd.
“Nothing very grandmotherly about her then?” Nathan lowers his chin.
“If you thought Arthur was manipulative, you haven’t met my grandmother.”
“Ooh, that sounds not very pleasant,” I offer.
“If it’s any consolation, Arthur apologized to me.” Brody draws me closer to his chest.
Nathan does a double take. “The old coot apologized?”
“He said he had our best interests at heart. And that he realized that he might have been a little overzealous with his meddling and trying to get us married.” Brody raises a shoulder.
“And you believe him?” Knox strokes his chin.
“No reason not to.”
“He hasn’t apologized to the rest of us,” Nathan points out.
“Not yet,” Brody agrees. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he's waiting for the right opportunity to apologize to each of you separately.
“The fact he apologized is out of character.” Quentin purses his lips. “No doubt, he hoped you’d convey his sentiments to us.”
“He seemed genuine. And he did it right after our wedding ceremony.”
“He did?” I glance at my husband in surprise.
He looks down at me, a tenderness filling his gaze, the kind which never fails to send a thrill down my spine. I’ll never get used to this strong, proud man, not hiding his emotions when it comes to me.
I feel privileged and cherished and protected and happy. And it must show on my face, for he tucks me closer.
“Let’s say, it was when I was filled with self-doubt. When I was riddled with questions about what I was doing. And you should know”—he tightens his hold on me—"it was in another time. When I was someone else. Before I was changed by my love for you.”
“Aww.” Summer sighs. “That’s so romantic.”
“He is, isn’t he?” I cup his cheek. Then, because I can’t help it, I rise up on tiptoe and kiss my husband. It’s meant to be a quick peck on his lips, but Brody deepens the kiss, and by the time he releases me, I’m flushed and panting. And applause breaks out from those watching.
“You guys are practically oozing happiness.” James’ tone is disgusted.
“That’s what you could have, too.” Quentin nudges him.
"I don’t begrudge you guys your contentment." A haunted expression crosses James features, one that crosses over the border to jealousy, perhaps? Is James jealous of his friends’ happiness?
It’s almost as if he thinks he doesn’t deserve it. But nah, that’s not possible. James is such a confident man. Surely, he’s not the kind to fall prey to such misgivings.
“But?” Brody prompts him.
"But my restaurant is a jealous mistress. It doesn’t leave space for any other woman in my life and"—his phone buzzes—"excuse me." He pulls out his phone and takes in the message.
It must not be good news, for he tightens his upper lip. A scowl darkens his features.
"This… This is what I mean. I put a woman in charge of my kitchen, and what I get is disaster.”
"Do you mean Harper?" I frown.
"Who else?" He grips his phone like he’s about to throw it on the floor and jump on it. For someone who’s always so composed, it’s a startling revelation to see his features twisted with frustration.
His mouth is set in grim lines. He seems furious.
Whoa, whatever Harper has done, it must be serious. Apparently, she can silence the chef who’s well known for speaking his mind.
"First time I’ve seen anyone get under the skin of Hell’s Chef,” Brody drawls.
Now, that’s a nickname I haven’t heard before. But having heard of his legendary temper, I can guess where he gets it from.
James cracks his neck. “For one day, could she hold things together without everything falling apart? Of course, not." His nostrils flare.
"Maybe you’re building things up in your head? You know how persnickety you can be," Brody drawls.
"It’s because I’m persnickety that I have three Michelin stars." He narrows his gaze on Brody. Anyone else would wilt under James’ fierce scowl, but not my husband.
He inclines his head. "And you worked hard to pull that off. It makes me wonder, though, how many you need before you’re satisfied?"
"Satisfied?" He snaps it out like it’s a dirty word. "I’ll rest when I’m six feet under, and not a moment before. Now, I’d better bring this fire under control, otherwise I may not have a restaurant to go back to."
I slip out into the garden.