Epilogue
Lucy’s collarbone wasn’t broken. She had an angry purple bruise for a while, and it turned into a mottled mess of yellow, green, and black, but it healed quickly. The blazer had done its job.
Inside the hunting cabin, the police found bomb-making supplies, printing supplies, and a huge stash of one-dollar bills. Aaron and his gang had been bleaching the ones and reprinting them as hundred-dollar notes. They sold them for twenty dollars each, making a tidy profit. Aaron admitted to it all, telling the police he hired the Wendells for muscle. The bomb had been Aaron’s idea, which Lanky had been all too happy to carry out.
Rhonda refused to name her boss, which frustrated the police officers to no end. Lucy could tell Rick wasn’t ready to let it go. He came to see her and Cormac at Cormac’s apartment about a week after the arrests were made to explain what they’d found so far. He warned them that until they knew who was buying the counterfeit bills, someone might be looking for retribution.
Cormac didn’t like the sound of that. His face was grim, his eyes dark. Lucy watched him absorb the information, waiting until Rick left to wrap her arms around her man.
“Hey,” she said, “I don’t like that look on your face.”
He held her tight, meeting her gaze. “If anyone were to hurt you…”
“I’ll elbow them in the solar plexus.”
Cormac’s touch was gentle as he brushed it over her bruise. It wasn’t nearly as sore as it had been the day it happened, but the skin was still tender.
“Cormac,” Lucy said, placing her hand over his. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” he said.
Cormac’s personality would never change. He would always be protective. He would always have more than one lock on his door. But he wasn’t blaming himself for what had happened; that was progress. Just like Lucy discovering her inner strength, Cormac had finally begun to let his childhood wound scab over.
Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. They made it to the couch before their clothes came off.
Work-wise, Lucy won the contract with Juniper and Sage. Working with the big company gave her something to focus on for the weeks that followed the arrests and helped her find her footing again.
Ruby introduced Lucy to her wedding planner friend, and Lucy quickly gained three new clients from the introduction. There was an influx of inquiries from the Wedding Expo—and the drama that happened after didn’t hurt her notoriety, either. Her brand got more exposure from the explosion and subsequent arrests than she’d ever been able to get on her own. She made the national news and got so swamped with orders that she had to scramble to hire an assistant. Business was good.
Similarly, Cormac completed the big Hampstead family contract in time for Marlon to come back, and the two of them continued on as if nothing had happened. After Cormac got chewed out for taking the Crown Vic and driving a significant piece of evidence across town, no one mentioned it again. Cormac didn’t seem sorry at all.
When her lease ended at the end of the summer, Lucy moved in with Cormac. She’d never envisioned herself moving in with a man after only dating him a few months, but things with Cormac were different. He was hers, and she was his. The certainty of it was imprinted on her soul. There would be no other man for her, so why would she hesitate? Most of her stuff was at his place, anyway. Making the move official was like turning the page on a difficult period of her life. Now she could finally move on.
They continued their early-morning self-defense classes, which often devolved into vigorous lovemaking. Lucy wasn’t complaining about any of it. Her life was busy and brimming with happiness. It was hard to imagine things getting any better.
But they did.
A year passed in bliss until Cormac came home carrying a giant garment bag. Lucy, who had been lavishing Princess Snowball with affection on the couch, turned to watch him approach and frowned.
“What’s that?” she asked.
Cormac dumped the garment bag over the back of the couch beside her and stood back to cross his arms. “It’s for you.”
She gently coaxed the cat off her lap and stood, smiling hesitantly. He’d already had a bespoke bulletproof suit made for her, and she doubted he’d get her another one. “What is it?”
“You have to open it to find out.”
Lucy came around to the back of the couch where Cormac stood, gave him a searching look, then turned to the garment bag. It was black, and a little clear window in the breast showed her a patch of white fabric inside. Her heart began to thump.
Hands shaking, Lucy grabbed the zipper, tugged it down—and gasped.
Reverently, she pushed open the two sides of the opening and ran her hands over the intricately beaded dress within. It twinkled silver and white under the living room lights, all the way down to the froth of tulle at the bottom.
It was the dress. The dress. The one that had stopped Lucy in her tracks at the Wedding Expo, the one that Cormac thought was hiding an enemy. The one she’d babbled about because his hand had been on her elbow and she hadn’t been able to think straight.
“Cormac,” she whispered, tracing the sweetheart neckline with the very tips of her fingers.
“I know you said you’d have nowhere to wear it, but you’re wrong. You don’t need a fancy venue to wear a dress. You don’t need any excuse at all.”
“Well, it is a wedding dress,” she said, slightly sardonically. “I might need that excuse.”
She turned to Cormac, grinning, only to see a strange look in his eyes. There was vulnerability there, and a trembling sort of hope.
“Yeah,” he said, “but that could be arranged.”
Her heart punched her ribcage, and all the air left her lungs. She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “Are you—are you proposing to me?”
Reaching over, Cormac grasped her hand and pulled her close, as if he couldn’t bear to not be touching her. “Yes,” he finally answered. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Bottom lip trembling, Lucy launched herself at him the same way she had at the Wedding Expo all those months ago. He caught her, laughing, his eyes full of tears. She cupped his face in her hands and felt her heart swell.
“Is that a yes?” he asked, gaze flicking between her eyes.
“It’s a hell yes,” she confirmed—and kissed him.
When they finally broke apart, Lucy slid to the floor and turned to the dress, pulling it out of the garment bag to admire it.
It was as gorgeous as she’d thought that first day. Dramatic and elegant and loud . It was the opposite of what she’d ever allow herself to buy if she were to go out shopping for a wedding dress.
It was perfect.
“If you want something different, I won’t be offended,” Cormac said as he wrapped his arms around her stomach. “It was just the look on your face when you saw the dress…the longing… Lucy, I want to give you everything you could ever want.”
She leaned her head back against his chest, her eyes on the dress. “I love the dress,” she said.
“But?”
“I just never imagined having a wedding. I still… I just don’t like being stared at. I’d have to walk down the aisle, and say my vows in front of all those people…”
Cormac squeezed her, his lips brushing her temple. “I was thinking, maybe we could get married with just the two of us, somewhere outdoors, a photographer, the officiant. We could throw a party for everyone else if you wanted, but maybe…maybe the ceremony could be just for us. You and me.”
Lucy’s heart melted. This man—this big, stoic, stubborn man—knew her so well it staggered her. What Cormac was proposing sounded so perfect she couldn’t think of any way to improve it. She’d get the dress and the party, but she wouldn’t have to deal with any of the pressure. They could have their special, intimate ceremony exactly how they wanted, and Lucy wouldn’t have to be uncomfortable being the center of attention.
“You and me,” Lucy answered, whispering. She turned in the circle of his arms and looked up at him, a tremulous smile curling the corners of her lips. “How soon can we do it?”
They got their license from the town clerk the following day but had to wait a little over a week to have their ceremony. Even with a simple wedding, arrangements had to be made. The dress fit perfectly—Cormac’s tailor had her measurements from when he made the bulletproof suit—but they had to find an officiant and a photographer, explain the plan to their families and friends, organize rings and a tuxedo, and check the weather. Then, on a balmy September Saturday, Lucy pinned her hair into a low chignon, put on her makeup, and slipped on the dress of her dreams.
She stared at herself in the mirror, a mix of nerves and excitement and pure love sloshing in her stomach. She turned to admire the back of the dress, with its row of tiny buttons and intricate detailing. She felt more beautiful than she ever had before. The dress was perfect. The lining brushed against her skin when she moved, and she found herself reaching beneath the bodice to feel it between her fingers. It felt familiar, somehow.
Cormac appeared in the bedroom doorway, looking dapper in his black tuxedo. She saw him from the corner of her eye, but she was busy staring at her dress, frowning.
“Lucy…” Cormac let out a gust of breath, the emotion in his voice making it tremble. “You look… You look incredible. I can’t believe… I love y?—”
She straightened and faced him, and something in her face made Cormac pause.
“What?”
“Cormac,” she started, narrowing her eyes.
“What is it?” Something like fear entered his expression. “Are you—you’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
Silly man.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she answered, putting her hands on her hips. “But tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“Is this dress bulletproof?”
Cormac’s face went blank. “I, uh, might have asked for some…um…modifications…when I was getting it made. It’s the lining, specifically, that… They told me it would be imperceptible, so…” He trailed off, then set his jaw. “Listen, they still haven’t found who was buying that counterfeit money, Lucy. I’m not taking any chances.”
They stared at each other for a beat—and then Lucy began to laugh. She laughed so hard she had to redo her makeup before they could finally leave.
So, Lucy wore a bulletproof dress to marry the man of her dreams. The ceremony was performed in one of the many parks in Stirling, under the leaves of maples and oaks and elms that were bursting with a million different shades of autumn. The air smelled fresh and crisp, and Lucy’s heart overflowed. She held Cormac’s hands as the officiant proclaimed them man and wife, a sacred, special moment that would forever belong to just the two of them.
Their first kiss as a married couple made Lucy’s toes curl. She clung to her husband, smiling against his lips.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“You’re my world,” he replied.
They got in Cormac’s car and headed across town to a purple Victorian, where all their loved ones had gathered. There were hugs and teary kisses and many congratulations, and then Lucy and Cormac went inside to see Lucy’s parents’ house transformed.
Scarlett had provided gorgeous flowers to decorate the space. Drinks began to flow, and everyone gathered in the backyard and the sunroom to celebrate the union of two people who were destined to be together. The meal was a barbecue, and their cake was a tower of donuts made by Camilla. Lucy wore her gorgeous, glittering, elegant dress the whole day, and she realized Cormac was right. She hadn’t needed a fancy venue at all. All she’d needed was him.
Scarlett had never been to a wedding quite like this one, and she loved it. Love thrummed in the air as people gathered in Lucy’s parents’ backyard, everyone happy to celebrate the couple however Lucy and Cormac chose.
She’d worked hard that week to put together flowers for the reception, their sweet, fragrant perfume permeating the air. After just over three years in this town, Scarlett was beginning to feel like one of the locals. She adjusted one of the bouquets on the banquet table in the sunroom, plucking a wilted leaf from one of the stems.
“They’re so gorgeous, Scarlett,” Dolly said, approaching the table to deposit a tray of fresh-cut fruit. “You have a real talent.”
She smiled at the older woman. “There’s something special about flowers, don’t you think? They’re pure beauty, and you’re forced to enjoy them while they last.”
“A good philosophy for life in general,” Dolly replied, smiling. She came closer and wrapped her arms around Scarlett. “Thank you for doing this for my daughter,” she said, her voice muffled in Scarlett’s hair.
Throat tight, Scarlett nodded. “Lucy and the girls made this town feel like home,” she admitted. “I haven’t felt that in a long time.”
Dolly pulled away and cupped Scarlett’s cheek. The touch was motherly; it made Scarlett’s chest ache. “You belong here,” she said, and for the first time in many, many years, Scarlett believed her.
She’d been through a lot, this past decade, but things were finally looking up.
Behind Dolly, Amelia and Leo were setting up a microphone and a projector. It was nearly time for speeches.
Dolly left Scarlett to continue restocking the food table, and Scarlett drifted toward Amelia and Leo. The two of them were frowning at the laptop on the side table just inside the sunroom door, pressing the power button and watching the screen remain black and lifeless.
“Everything okay?” Scarlett asked.
“Laptop died,” Amelia said, huffing. “I can’t hook up the projector now, and I had a whole slideshow prepared.”
“If you have the slideshow saved on the Cloud, we could use my computer? It’s in my car,” Scarlett offered.
Leo and Amelia met her gaze, eyes full of hope. Leo nodded. “That would be great.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Amelia added.
“Be right back!” Scarlett hustled to her car and grabbed her laptop bag. Her heels sank into the earth as she crossed the front lawn to get back inside, and she had to brush a few blades of grass off her shoes before reentering. When she made it to the back of the house with her laptop. Amelia and Leo were ready for it. Within moments, the projector was hooked up, the microphone was on, and Leo was tapping a knife on the edge of a champagne flute to get everyone’s attention.
Amelia had successfully gotten her slideshow working, so pictures were beaming onto a projector screen set up against the house. Photos of Lucy, Cormac, their families, and their friends faded into each other, drawing murmurs and laughs from the crowd. One particular photo made everyone say “aww” in unison: a candid photo taken just a few months earlier at Camilla’s birthday party. The two of them were on the couch, holding plates with thick slices of birthday cake, and Lucy was lifting her fork like she wanted to feed a bite to Cormac. She looked mischievous, grinning. Cormac smiled softly at Lucy in the photo, enamored, the two of them oblivious to the world around them.
Scarlett smiled, happy for her friends. It was a bittersweet kind of happiness, though. A secret part of her felt sad that she’d never have a man look at her like that. She’d never be loved as deeply as Cormac loved Lucy.
“You want to go first?” Amelia asked quietly.
Scarlett smiled. “Sure,” she said, happy to be able to share this day with the people who had become important to her.
So, after Leo had finished getting everyone’s attention, Scarlett took the microphone from him. Movement from the sunroom doorway drew her gaze briefly, where she saw Archer Jones leaning against the jamb. The late-afternoon sunlight gilded his strands of brown hair, highlighting all the angles and hollows of his face. His skin was rough from the sun and wind and rain, its ruggedness making him look slightly dangerous. This was a man who worked with his hands, who spent time outdoors.
Their eyes met; she could read what was in his gaze. He was replaying the events that had happened seventeen months ago, after Camilla’s wedding. The night that no one but Archer and Scarlett knew about. The night that had made Scarlett swear off men for good.
Eyes still on the man at the door, Scarlett swiped her thumb to unlock her phone. She’d saved the speech on the device, and everyone was waiting. She couldn’t have predicted that with one swipe of her fingers, she’d invite disaster into her life once more.